The Resident Sociopaths of 221B
by Calenithlon
Summary: Baker Street will never be the same when Lexi MacKenna walks into the lives of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Sherlock, a difficult man and consulting detective who gave up caring, John, an ex- army doctor who misses the battlefield, and Lexi, an Irish girl on a mission who will end up rescuing them from their worst enemies, themselves. Begins in ASiP. Eventual Sherlock/OC.
1. Prologue

**(A/N) So I've been writing this little beauty steadily. I have finally written enough to post the first chapter which I am very happy about because I have been dying to post this. Let me know what you think. Cheers! This first part does follow the episode nearly word for word, but I promise that the next chapter won't be at least in terms of my OC!**

**Song that inspired the chapter/ I listened to on an endless repeated loop obsessively while writing the chapter: Bad Boys by the Inner Circle. **

* * *

><p>Prologue~<p>

"**It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."-****Arthur Conan Doyle**

Detective Inspector Lestrade sat at the table looking uncomfortable as his colleague sitting beside him, Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan, addressed the gathered press reporters. It was a necessary police conference. There had already been three suicides and he was no closer to figuring out exactly what linked them. He was way out of his depth. He was loath to admit that he needed help, but he didn't want to go to him for help as that would only inflate his already large ego. He couldn't ask her for help either, she had told him enough times already that she didn't work on cases any more.

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson and James Phillimore. In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?" The reporter asked the already uncomfortable man.

"Well, they all took the same poison; um, they were all found in places they had no reason to be; none of them had shown any prior indication of ...," Lestrade fumbled around with his answer unsure of how to respond properly to the question.

"But you can't have serial suicides," The same reporter said interrupting him.

"Well, apparently you can" Lestrade shot back sounding annoyed.

"These three people: there's nothing that links them?" A second reporter asked Lestrade and the man sighed heavily before answering.

"There's no link been found yet, but we're looking for it. There has to be one," He said just as everybody's mobile phone trilled a text alert simultaneously. They all looked at their phones. It read the same message for everyone.

"_**Wrong!"**_

Donovan looked at the same message on her own phone briefly before looking up at everyone else in the room again. "If you've all got texts, please ignore them."

"Just says, 'Wrong'," The first reporter remarked sounding slightly confused.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that," Donovan responded huffily before regaining her composure. "Okay, if there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."

"But if they're suicides, what are you investigating?" The second reporter asked getting a final question in.

"As I say, these ... these suicides are clearly linked. Um, it's an... it's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating ...," Lestrade said before he was once again cut off by the sound of everybody's mobile trilling another text alert.

Once again every message read _**"Wrong!"**_

"Says, 'Wrong' again," The first reporter remarked while Lestrade looked despairingly at Sally. It was going to be one of those days. Of course it was always one of those days around Sherlock bloody Holmes.

"One more question," Donovan told the reporters as she tried to wrap up the press conference before anything else could happen to make them look bad.

"Is there any chance that these are murders, and if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?" Another reporter asked Lestrade bringing up the subject he was really hoping to avoid.

"I ... I know that you like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The, um, the poison was clearly self-administered," Lestrade told him sounding completely unconvincing.

"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?" The reporter pressed causing Lestrade to lose his composure which had already been cracking.

"Well, don't commit suicide," Lestrade retorted causing the reporter to look at him in shock.

Donovan covered her mouth and murmured a warning to him "Daily Mail."

Lestrade grimaced and looked at the reporters again before trying to cover up his blunder. "Obviously this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."

Again all of the mobiles in the room trilled their text alerts, and once more each message only read "Wrong!" Lestrade's phone took a moment longer to alert him to a text. He looked down at his phone and read the text he had received.

_**You know where to find me. -SH**_

Lestrade exasperatedly put his phone back into his pocket before looking at the reporters as standing up. "Thank you," He said simply before leaving the room.

A short while later, Lestrade and Donovan were walking through the offices of New Scotland Yard together.

"You've got to stop him doing that. He's making us look like idiots," Donovan told him sounding irritated.

"Well, if you can tell me how he does it, I'll stop him," Lestrade shot back sounding more tired than annoyed. This recent case had meant many long hours for him. "Besides he's all we got."

"She was a much of a freak as he is," Donovan said pulling a disgusted face.

"She was bloody brilliant on cases though, you had to give her that," Lestrade remarked in the girl's defense.

"She was even more unpredictable than he is," Donovan pointed out snidely.

"Yeah, God help the poor sods who ever cross her," Lestrade remarked thoughtfully. God help anyone who ever truly crossed that woman. She was even more unpredictable than the world's only consulting detective. She had breezed into Scotland Yard one day. Unlike the others, Lestrade actually managed to get along with her bombshell of a personality. She was there and then she was gone. Yes, she was certainly even more unpredictable than Sherlock Holmes.


	2. My Mind Rebels At Stagnation

**(A/N) Here is the first chapter in which I introduce my OC. Please don't make any assumptions. I promise you she isn't just like Sherlock. She may seem that way at first, but she really isn't.**

****Song that inspired the chapter/ I listened to on an endless repeated loop obsessively while writing the chapter:Young Blood by the naked and famous****

* * *

><p>Chapter One ~ My Mind Rebels At Stagnation<p>

"**My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation."- Arthur Conan Doyle**

* * *

><p>The sound of an alarm clock going off repeatedly was the first sound to grace my unconscious mind. In a sleep induced haze, I reached one hand out and fumbled around for a second before my hand came in contact with the infernal device. I wrapped my hand around the offending object before I chucked it as far away from me as possible. The sound it made when coming in contact with the wall was evidence to the fact that another alarm clock had met its demise. I groaned loudly as I buried my face deeper into my pillow and snuggled down into my sheets in an attempt to encourage sleep to return to me. I made another annoyed sound before I rolled over onto my back and opened my eyes knowing that trying to go back to sleep would be a lost cause at this point. My brain was already active. I blinked blindly for a few seconds staring up at the dust motes floating through the patches of sunlight coming through my curtains before my vision finally cleared.<p>

I rose slowly into a sitting position before I surveyed the damage that my tantrum upon waking had induced. Save a smashed alarm clock there seemed to be no other casualties. I pulled myself unwillingly from my bed and padded over to the kitchen. I set about making my morning cup of tea. The methodical process of making tea was just what my brain needed to start waking up. At the current moment my brain still felt sluggish and weighed down by the effects of the almost comatose like sleep state I had so recently been blissfully engaged in. When the kettle started screaming I took it off the heat and poured the boiling hot water into a mug before adding the tea bags and waiting for the brew to steep.

I made my way back into my bedroom and crossed over to my dresser stepping over the mess of the alarm clock. I would deal with that later. I pulled some clothes out from my drawers before returning to the kitchen to pick up my mug of tea. I brought it into the bathroom with me and set it down on the counter as I started the shower. I sipped my tea and finger combed my hair as I waited for the shower to heat up. The plumbing in my flat was shotty at best. This fact, along with many other reasons including that my land lord was a sleazy creep, are what had led me to be looking for a new place of residence. The search had provided to be less than fruitful. This of course was mostly due to the fact that I could hardly afford a flat on my own. I only could afford this flat because of said sleazy landlord who was doing me a "favor".

I stepped into my now somewhat steamy shower and proceeded to complete the methodical process of bathing. My own inner dialogue was screaming at me to not even bother and just go and curl back up in bed. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my tall, thin frame before crossing back into my bedroom. I smiled in satisfaction as I left a trail of water behind me on the wooden floors. I quickly pulled on my black skinny jeans and a cream colored kami. I pocketed my mobile as I passed my night stand before I hopped around the room pulling my tan riding boots on. I pulled on my hunter green jumper as I returned to my bath room to quickly dry my hair.

I had flat hunting to do if I was ever going to get out of this place, but I had already made plans to meet with a friend of mine, Mike Stamford, for lunch. My copper locks fell in waves to my waist as soon as they were dry. I yanked a brush through them roughly before pulling my hair back into a pony tail. The ends of my hair still reached the middle of my back, but at least my hair wouldn't fall in my face constantly. I swiped a little brown eye shadow over the lids of my hazel eyes, which looked greener today than brown, and brushed a little blush over my high cheekbones. I narrowed my eyes at my reflection for a second before clicking my tongue and cocking my head to the side. I nodded once happy with the way I looked before I left my bathroom and walked to the door pulling on my coat as I made my way into my kitchen. I snatched my wallet off of my cluttered kitchen table covered in various half-finished experiments. I slipped it into my pocket before returning to the door and grabbing my hunter green scarf off of its peg by the door slinging it on around my neck.

I briefly took a second to straighten myself out before I nodded it satisfaction and opened the door to my flat. I locked it securely behind me, though I doubted that would keep my landlord out if he really wanted to get in, before stomping noisily down the stairs and out to the curbing. I proceeded to hail a cab which was relatively easy. Cabbies were more willing to help young women out than men. It did help that this particular cabbie had a daughter around my age if the picture I caught on his dash as he pulled to a stop alongside me was any indication. I slipped inside the back of the cab and gave the cabbie the address for St. Bartholomew's Hospital.

I used to frequent a lot of my time at St. Bart's, but now I only graced it with my presence when I had reason too. I used to be something of a consultant for the police back in the day, but I had left that all behind and had taken up writing as my profession. I still kept up on my experiments and every so often I would use my friendship with Mike to gain me access to the morgue. Maybe I could twist his arm enough today to get him to let me examine the bodies from the triple suicide case that had been in the papers recently. I had been following the case even though I didn't work with the police anymore. It was interesting to say the least, serial suicides. So far the police had yet to connect the dots in the cases, I contemplated the idea of calling Lestrade to give him anything I had on the case, but I didn't want to get involved with that type of work anymore.

I chatted with the cabbie on the ride over. It only took a little prompting to get him to talk about his family. Cabbies could be the most interesting people to talk to. Every day they met all manners of people. They saw us at our worst and in some cases they could even be better to talk to than psychologist. This particular cabbie was a family man and he couldn't help but talk proudly about his children. His daughter was in Uni, a straight 'A' model student studying to be a doctor. People could be so fascinating to me. I paid the cabbie and tipped him for his company before steeping out into the cold air of London once again. I turned up the collar of my coat as I pulled it closer around me before I strode forward to the doors of the hospital.

I paused with my hand on the door for a brief second glancing down at my bright blue polished fingernails. My nail polish was slightly chipped which was evidence to my bad habit of biting my nails. It was an anxious habit of mine which I was trying to get rid of. I opened the door and stepped inside the hospital. I greeted the ladies at the reception desk who knew me well enough before I made my way over towards the lifts. I was almost there when I was suddenly roughly walked into. By the time I had looked up and brushed myself off from my sideways stumbled. All I saw was retreating figure of a man in a black coat.

"Oi, watch where you're going mate!" I indignantly shouted after the black clad figure. Whoever it was completely ignored me and continued walking on. I grumbled under my breath before deciding on taking the stairs instead of the lift.

I stomped down them angrily, letting each foot fall express the inner rage I felt over the injustice I had been shown. By the time I made it to the floor where Mike's office was located I felt a little bit better. Life was too short to let little things get to you. I might be generally easy to get along with, but I had a rather bad temper which was probably connected to my Irish bloodlines. I had the fiery locks of a bonny wee lass and the temper of an angry Irishman. My Irish heritage also led to some other bad habits. I knocked on Mike's office door before opening it with a big grin on my face.

"Mike," I greeted the man behind his desk as I skipped into his office. The man in question laughed heartily as he got up from his desk and made his way around it to greet me.

"Lexi, perfect timing as always. How have you been?" Mike asked me as he pulled me into a one armed hug.

"All I heard was Lexi and perfect in that sentence," I teased Mike with a laugh as the man returned behind his desk and sat down. I sat in the seat in front of his desk and crossed my legs after putting them on the corner of Mike's desk. "I've been rather good. Looking for a new flat. I can't seem to find one in London that is in my price range," I complained to Mike with a loud theatrical sigh.

"Why don't you find a flat mate then?" Mike asked me with a hearty chortle. He was used to my personality by now.

"Oh come on Mike, who would want me as a flat mate? I mean I know I am a joy to be around, but not everyone sees it that way," I told the man with a roll of my eyes before smirking.

"You know you are the second person to say that to me today," Mike mused and I snorted before shrugging.

"I'll look around for a flat mate, but I rather doubt I'll find anyone who would be willing to live with me. Who is going to put up with a girl who sings opera loudly, plays the viola at all times of day, and does dangerous experiments at their kitchen table?" I asked Mike with another dramatic sigh.

"You'd be surprised. I'm sure you'll find someone you can get along with Lexi."

"Suuuure," I drawled out lazily. "When that day comes, you'll be the first person I call. Well actually the second person. I already promised to call someone else first."

"Come on let's head out. I can't stand the sight of this office for another second," Mike suddenly said as he got up from behind his desk. I sighed again before smiling brightly and hopping out of my seat.

I took Mike's offered arm and we made our way out of Bart's together. Mike was one of the only people I had ever met that seemed to be able to get along with my winning personality. I was fluent in sarcasm and I was prone to dramatic displays. Combine that with my constantly changing moods and people wondered why I didn't have many friends. We stopped in a park by Bart's to catch up for a bit before going to lunch. It had been a while since I had seen Mike. I wasn't exactly busy, but I had been keeping myself occupied with various things.

"So what have you been up to?" Mike asked me as we sat down on a bench together.

"Oh, this and that you know. Writing, composing, doing experiments. I keep myself busy," I remarked as I played with my hands. I picked at my nail polish for a second before throwing my hands away from me and looking up at Mike with a grin. "How about you? How is the teaching going?"

"I'm teaching the biggest group of smart arses I think I have ever seen. Remind me a bit of you," Mike teased me with a laugh.

"I'm really gutted Mike, I thought you liked me," I said pretending to wipe away a fake tear before I snorted and grinned brightly. "Actually I take that as a compliment. My talent is finally being recognized."

Mike laughed at my antics before we sat in companionable since for a few seconds. I watched the people milling about the park. I made my silent deductions about everyone. It was something I had started to do when I was younger. I liked to watch people and deduce things about them. I didn't have the best of childhoods and I would often hide away for hours watching people. People fascinated me. Everyone was completely different. As humans we labeled each other based on our personalities, but if you took the time to sit and observe people you began to see what was beneath the surface.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. _Step, clink, step, clink. _ I closed my eyes and let my brain make its deductions by only auditory cues. The person was walking with a cane relying heavily on it. The person in question was stepping down heavily on their left hand side. I opened my eyes just as the man passed by us. Mike stared after the man and I saw the flash in his eyes that always accompanied recognition.

"John! John Watson!" Mike excitedly called out to the man who turned back as Mike stood up and hurried toward him smiling. From the way Mike was smiling I deduced that he knew the man well. He was probably an old friend of his.

The man, John apparently, was short in terms of height. He had sandy blond hair cut short and bright blue eyes. He wore casual jeans with a checked shirt and he had on a coat that screamed military man. He was leaning heavily on his cane which meant he had a limp, probably psychosomatic. So military man with a psychosomatic limp meant wounded in action. I smiled to myself as I watched to two men's interaction.

"Stamford. Mike Stamford. We were at Bart's together," Mike told the man who looked very surprised that someone had recognized him. I frowned to myself as I calculated John's posture. He seemed slightly uncomfortable like he didn't want company, but didn't know how to refuse it.

"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike," John said as he took Mike's offered hand and shook it. "Hello, hi."

"Yeah, I know. I got fat!" Mike told him grinning as he gestured to himself. I snorted as I watched John fumbling for a response that didn't sound rude. I had seen the pictures of Mike in his younger days, it didn't surprise me that he was hard to recognize. People certainly changed in the course of just a few years.

"No," John said after a second trying to sound convincing. Mike seemed to buy it and I smiled to myself. John Watson… I think I liked him already. I was seriously going to have to do something about his attitude though. He just needed a little bit of encouragement. It couldn't be easy coming back from a war.

"I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?" Mike asked John still grinning and I rolled my eyes at his lack of tact. Sure, ask the man with a cane why he was no longer in the military. It was so obvious that John might as well have a sign plastered on his back.

"I got shot," John told him awkwardly before both me looked embarrassed and stood in the most awkward silence I had ever witnessed. I jumped up from the bench and decided to ease the tension before it got worse. I bounced up to Mike's side startling both men. I stood there grinning madly with my hands linked behind my back swinging slowly from side to side.

"Hello," I said brightly as I smiled at John. The man looked surprised before Mike cleared his throat and chuckled at my display. Both men looked slightly relieved at my sudden presence. Defusing a situation was my specialty.

"John, meet my friend Alexandria MacKenna. Alex this is my old friend Doctor John Watson," Mike introduced us as John offered his hand out to me smiling tensely. Hmm I would have to fix that. Maybe a little dose of my sparkling personality would sort him out.

"Pleasure to meet you Dr. Watson," I said cheerfully as I shook his offered hand. Firm hand shake meant confidence in meeting new people. So he was find with meeting new people, but just didn't want any company. He was quiet a conundrum, but that just made him even more interesting to me.

"Just John please," He offered up as I continued to smile at him. Yes, I did indeed like John Watson. I cocked my head to the side studying him for a brief second. Not long enough to make him feel uncomfortable, but just long enough to fully take in his appearance and make silent deductions about him.

"Lexi," I told him after a moment's thought having finally come to a conclusion. Mike chuckled beside me knowing exactly what it was I was thinking about. I had a process when meeting new people. Either I liked them right away or I didn't. John was certainly one of the people I liked.

"Lexi helps me out over at Bart's," Mike explained to John who smiled back at me seemingly more genuinely. It was a start at least. I made it my personal goal for the day to cheer up John Watson. He seemed at odds with the world which was completely understandable.

"So you're a doctor?" John asked me making small talk. He seemed genuinely curious which showed that he was one of those people who truly cared about others. I liked him more and more with every passing sentence. Perhaps he would survive my scrutiny

I laughed and flashed him a grin before answering him. "Nope," I said popping the 'p' sound. "I dabble in a lot of things. I'm a writer," I answered him quirking one of my eyebrows up as I thought. Yeah, that sounded like a pretty good explanation for what I did. I was sort of a writer, though not exactly. I didn't have the capacity to sit still for too long to write.

"That must be fun," John remarked for lack of a better response. If only he knew the truth. I liked writing to be sure, but I had recently begun to miss my old job. I didn't like staying holed up in my flat for hours writing endlessly. I needed to be up and moving all of the time.

"It actually sounds a bit better than it is. Not that I care, gives me more time to annoy this guy," I told John as I pointed back at Mike. Mike and I had a rather odd relationship. He was one of my only friends mostly because he seemed to be one of the only people who could deal with all of my mood swings. I had worked with him a few times and now saw him only for social calls. He had seen all of my moods by now and nothing I did any more ever seemed to surprise him. He had told me once that he found my personality refreshing because I didn't care what people thought of me when I burst out with something.

"We were about to head out to lunch, why don't you join us? We can sit and catch up," Mike offered as John looked at me baffled by my personality. Oh John, that's not even the half of it I thought as I continued to grin at the man.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," John said carefully and I rolled my eyes at that. That was not his reason at all for not wanting to come. Well, I wasn't going to let him just walk off on his own, he wasn't going to get away from me that easily.

"You wouldn't be intruding. Besides I'm sure you have some good stories about Mike you could tell me. I always like having a little dirt on him," I mused as I flashed Mike a cheeky grin. Maybe I could use anything John told me as leverage to get into the morgue and see the bodies from the serial suicide case.

"Well, if you're sure," John mumbled before I smiled widely at him in encouragement. I unclasped my hands behind my back and patted Mike on the arm who had been watching John and me with an amused look on his face.

"Perfect!" I said before skipping slightly ahead of the two men allowing them time to chat and do those things that guys did. I heard Mike laughing behind me and I assumed that John probably had a look on his face that most people had after meeting me. I didn't even look back to see if they were following me. I was still heading to lunch whether they were coming with me or not.

"Yup, she's always like that," I heard Mike tell John behind me. I smirked to myself as I skipped ahead of the two men with my hands linked behind my back again. It was slightly cold today but other than that the day was rather nice. I really had to get out more often instead of spending a majority of my time in my flat. It was depressing in there, but it was quiet cheerful outside even if the sky was a dull gray color.

"Are you two…?" I heard John asking Mike and I snorted at his implication. I couldn't blame him though. I regarded Mike as the friend that I could always tease because he was one of the only people who really got my humor. He knew that I didn't mean anything by my teasing.

"No, God no. I met Lexi when she used to work with Scotland Yard. She was always coming into the morgue and I ended up meeting her one day. She keeps you on your toes. Strangest girl I have ever met, but she's bloody brilliant. You've made quite an impression on her I dare say," I heard Mike teasing John who spluttered for a few seconds in surprise.

"Really? Have I?" John asked after a second sounding a little gruffer like he was trying to hide his true feelings. Nice cover Watson I thought. I noticed that his foot falls seeped less heavy like he was relying less on his cane as he walked now. I had been right, his limp was psychosomatic. I hadn't lost my touch.

"She only introduces herself as Lexi to people she decides she likes," Mike explained to John as we made it back to the main street. I waited on the street corner for both men, joining their company again. I took Mike's offered arm as we crossed the street to the café across the way that we frequented on our visits with each other.

Mike opened the door for me and I entered the café with John following behind me. He seemed to be a little more comfortable around me now than before. I sat down at our usual table by the window and Mike winked at me as he sat across from me, forcing John to have to sit next to me. He was a sneaky blighter. A waitress brought us over some menus and I hid behind mine as John shot looks my way. I hummed the song La Habanera from the opera Carmen under my breath as I glanced over the menu. We ordered our food before settling into silence. I knew what was coming next if Mike's behavior was any indication. I wasn't surprised when a moment later he caught my eye and nodded his head in John's direction. It was an open invitation. I smiled deviously at Mike before I leaned with my hands under my chin and looked at John expectantly.

"So, John, Afghanistan or Iraq?" I asked the man who almost spit out the sip of tea he was drinking at the time. I smirked, unable to hide my amusement at having caught him so completely off guard. I had almost forgotten why I used to do this.

"Excuse me, sorry?" John asked me in shock as he put his cup of tea down on the table. Mike sat back in his chair getting ready for the show. I didn't often show off my skill. I had found quiet early on that people generally didn't like it when you could tell them everything about themselves. It had been a while since I had played this little game with Mike.

"Was it Afghanistan or Iraq?" I asked John again with a bright smile. He looked at Mike confused before looking back at me. I continued to look at him expectantly as I awaited his answer. The bewildered expression on John's face made me only smile wider, I loved these sort of reactions.

"You told her about me?" John asked Mike sounding surprised and Mike answered him with a chuckle. He grinned at me as I picked up my tea cup and took a sip of the hot beverage never taking my eyes off of John's face all the while.

"Not a word. I told you she was brilliant," Mike commented as I put my cup back onto the table. I threw my hands over my cheeks and made an overly dramatic shocked expression as I gasped.

"Oh Mike, you flatter. You made me blush," I teased him before smacking him lightly on his shoulder in jest. "I deduce people. Not as much as I used to, but Mike can't get enough of me showing off," I explained to John who was still looking at me dumbfounded.

"It was Afghanistan," John answered me after a second seeing my expectant expression as I still waited for his answer. Oh yeah I was good. I mentally patted myself on the back. Someone had to do it.

"Still got it," I said triumphantly as I looked at Mike and pointed at him. Mike rolled his eyes at me in mock irritation before he grinned back at me. "Pay up you," I told him as he pulled his wallet out and handed me a fiver.

"Wait sorry, did you have a bet?" John asked me as I pocket the money and looked back up at him. He looked even more baffled by me now than he had been before if that was even possible.

"Of sorts. Mike has to pay me every time he wants me to read someone and I get it right," I explained to John with a grin. "You are keeping my record straight. Never once has this man won," I told John as I nodded at Mike.

"You can't help showing off," Mike accused me with a grin as we bantered back and forth confusing John even more than before. Poor John. At least he seemed to not be completely put off with my personality just yet.

"But of course, it's my specialty," I told him sweetly with a seated bow as our waitress came back with our food. We ate in silence at first which was completely fine for all of us. John seemed more comfortable than before and after a while I got him to tell me a few stories about his and Mike's old endeavors. John Watson was an interesting man. He wasn't adjusting to civilian life well though. I could tell that he missed the danger of the battle fields. Life did seem a lot duller when you went from the action of war to the quiet humdrum of everyday life. I did miss the work I used to do. I had left for a reason though and I couldn't bring myself to getting back into that.

By the time we left the café with to go cups of coffee in hand, John had become more at ease around me and we had settled into a friendly companionship. He still looked at me bemused whenever I displayed my more exuberant parts of my personality, but he was smiling genuinely as we walked back across the street to the park. I held onto John's offered arm as we made our way back to the bench. I sat down on John's left hand side. I had determined that is limp was defiantly psychosomatic. It was more apparent when he was thinking about it, but it was nearly nonexistent whenever he forgot about it.

Mike caught my eye over John's head before looking back at John worriedly. He didn't have to be able to deduce people like I could to tell that John was not taking his discharge from service well. John took a sip from his coffee before looking at Mike seemingly oblivious to his concerns.

"Are you still at Bart's, then?" John asked him breaking the silence. I went back to observing people as I listened to their conversation. There was a man cutting through the park. He was a business man, married and having an affair. Those were the easiest sort of deductions. People often assumed that they could keep those secrets so well hidden, but if you knew what to look for their discretions were so obvious that it was like they had signs plastered all over them.

"Teaching now. Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!" Mike told him as the three of us laughed together. Mike had switched to teaching around the same time I had met him around five years ago. That was when I was still working on cases. No matter how much Mike complained about his students I could tell that he actually enjoyed teaching. "What about you? Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?" Mike asked John as I sipped at my coffee in quiet contemplation.

"I can't afford London on an Army pension."

"Ah, and you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know."

"Yeah, I'm not the John Watson ...," John said uncomfortably not even finishing his sentence as he shifted in his seat beside me. Mike looked awkwardly away from him and just sipped his coffee. I watched as John switched His own cup to his right hand and looked down at his left hand. He clenched it into a fist trying to control a tremor that had started in it. I sipped my coffee slowly as John glanced my way, trying to look like I hadn't just noticed what had happened. Mike looks round at him again and hesitated for a brief second before speaking again.

"Couldn't Harry help?" Mike asked John as I watched a young couple stroll through the park together. They looked so happy together. I frowned inwardly. There had been a time when I was like that, but those days had long since passed.

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" John said sarcastically and I snorted at that. I only knew too well how that was. My family, if you could even call them that, were the last people I would ever turn to for help.

"I dunno you could get a flatshare or something," Mike suggested shrugging. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head at Mike over John's head. That seemed to be his only piece of advice today.

"Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?" John remarked and Mike chuckled thoughtfully. I perked up at John's words. What were the odds?

"What?" John asked him confused as Mike looked at me bemused. I grinned at him widely at our own inside joke.

"Well, you're the third person to say that to me today," Mike told him as he and I shared a knowing look. Maybe meeting John Watson had been fate, an act of the gods.

"Who were the first?" John asked him and Mike pointed at me. I smiled brightly at John and waved at him while grinning.

"Hi," I told John grinning as Mike chuckled at John's priceless expression. He was making the sort of expression you normally associated with goldfish. It was actually slightly cute to see him looking completely bewildered.

"Come on you two. I have someone I want you to meet. I'll probably regret introducing you Lexi, but it might at least be interesting," Mike told us as he suddenly stood up and waited for the two of us to join him.

I raised an eyebrow at Mike before standing and looking at him pointedly. "I'll have you know that I am a joy to be around," I told him in mock offence as my mobile alerted in my pocket. I pulled it out as John got up from the bench beside me. I heard him chuckle quietly at my comment as I unlocked my phone and scrolled to look at my text message.

"_**Enjoying your day?"**_The text message read.

"_**Oh just peachy. I think I made a new friend. You'd like him, he's an ex-army doctor. The sort of person you would approve of.-L**__" _I texted back with a grin on my face before stowing my phone away again in the inner pocket of my trench coat.

I followed after Mike who had started leading us away back towards Bart's. I threw my empty coffee cup away on the walk back over as I caught up with John and Mike. Mike was being very secretive about who he was bringing us to meet which meant that he didn't want me to figure out anything before he introduced us. I walked along with my hand on John's arm. John was quiet a gentleman. The two of us followed Mike into the hospital and from the direction he was headed I could tell that we were heading towards the labs. I raised my eyebrow steadily higher as we got to the door of one of the lab rooms and Mike knocked briefly before walking in without waiting for an answer.

John and Mike entered ahead of me before I stepped in behind them with my hands clasped behind my back. I took in the man standing at the far end of the lap who was using a pipette to squeeze a few drops of liquid onto a Petri dish. I admired his precision. He clearly wasn't a doctor, but he had skill over what he was doing that came with personal experience. The man was, well, he was handsome. He was wearing a slim fitting suit that showed off his tall, thin frame. I guessed his height to be around six feet about four inches taller than my 5'8 height. His hair was black and curly and his eyes were a mixture of blue and grey. He was quiet pale, like me. Unlike him though I had freckles that gave me a bit of color. He had rather high cheekbones that I swore could have cut steel. Pair that with his perfect cupid bow lips and you couldn't help but find him attractive. The man glanced across the room at us briefly before looking at his work again. His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds longer before he turned away.

John limed further into the room, looking around at all the equipment. "Well, bit different from my day," John remarked as he looked around the room.

"You've no idea!" Mike told him chuckling. I snorted at Mike's response as I walked further into the room. It was just like I remembered it from my younger days. I confined most of my experiments these days to the table in my kitchen.

I watched the man sit down at the far end of the room. As I brought my attention back to him "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine," He asked Mike without even glancing up from his work. His voice was a deep baritone and I quirked my eyebrow up in interest. I studied the man who Mike had wanted us to meet. I couldn't place him entirely. Some things were obvious to deduce, but I couldn't figure out everything about him. I would need to engage him in conversation in order to make my final deductions about him.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked him. The way he spoke hinted that he was used to this sort of behavior from the man. So Mike knew him well enough. From the way he acted I wouldn't say they were exactly friends, but they were on good terms with one another.

"I prefer to text," The man told him sounding bored. He was interesting I would give him that. I couldn't figure out Mike's comment yet though. I couldn't see any reason why Mike might regret introducing the two of us.

"Sorry. It's in my coat," Mike told him not sounding sorry at all. I walked over to John's side and glanced around the room looking briefly at what he was working on. He was skilled in Chemistry, but not a chemist. He certainly didn't work at Bart's either and yet he had been given access to one of the labs. This man seemed even more interesting by the second. What I found the most interesting however was that I couldn't deduce anything about the man save a few obvious facts.

John fished in his back pocket and took out his own mobile. "Er, here. Use mine," He offered breaking through the silence that had settled over the room.

"Oh. Thank you," The man said sounding genuinely surprised by the offer. He glanced briefly at Mike before standing up and walking towards John and me. I regarded the man in front of me with a quirked eyebrows as I cocked my head to the side and studied him further. It was very rarely that I ever met someone I could not deduce. It both infuriated me and interested me at the same time.

"An old friend of mine, John Watson and a good friend of mine Alexandria MacKenna," Mike introduced the both of us as the man took the phone from John. He turned partially away from us and flipped open the keypad before starting to type on it. He glanced at me for a brief second our eyes meeting for the barest of seconds.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man asked suddenly and I smiled brightly as John frowned beside me. I looked at Mike at the same time as John did and he just smiled at the two of us knowingly. John looked back at the man as he continued to type. I contemplated the man with a new inquisitiveness as I remained silent.

"Sorry?" John asked him as I shared a look with Mike. Now I understood why he said he might regret introducing the two of us. I couldn't help but grin madly, it wasn't all the time that I met someone who could deduce people like I could. I had only met one other person actually.

"Which was it …Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asked again as he briefly raised his eyes to study John before looking back to the phone. John hesitated at being asked the same question twice in the same day and looked a Mike confused. Mike only smiled at him smugly as I narrowed my eyes and studied the man who had certainly peaked my interest.

"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know...?" John asked him before the door opened cutting him off. The man looked up from the phone as a woman walked into the room carrying a mug of coffee. I recognized the woman as the pathologist I had met before in the morgue.

"Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you," The man said as he shut down John's phone and handed it back to him as Molly brought the mug over to him. He looked closely at her as he took the mug. "What happened to the lipstick?" He asked her forwardly and I raised one eyebrow at his question.

"It wasn't working for me," Molly asked him smiling awkwardly at him. Molly was a really nice girl. She was a bit timid and shy, but I liked her. I actually enjoyed her company when I was working down in the morgue. I could tell that she had a crush on this guy though, but the feelings were completely one sided.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now," The man told her as he turned and walked back to his station. I watched him take a sip from the mug before grimacing at the taste and setting the mug down. I was quiet sure that he wasn't going to touch it again. He certainly didn't seem like he cared about offending people which could be seen as either a good or bad thing.

"... Okay," Molly said quietly as she turned and headed back towards the door dejectedly.

"Don't listen to him Molls. You are looking fabulous to today. I love what you did with you hair," I complimented her even though her hair was the same way it always was. Girls had to stick together and I considered Molly Hooper to be one of my only friends in life which pushed the total up to three. Maybe four now if you could count John as a new friend.

"Thanks Alex. It's nice to see you, it's been a while since you've come in," Molly said smiling brightly at me. I had successfully given her a confidence boost. I was doing well today. I really had to get out and talk to people more often. Hell, maybe I should become a psychiatrist. I was actually surprisingly good at this whole talking to people malarkey. Maybe that was because I had such a messed up life that I didn't care what came out of my mouth. I was going to tell you like it was.

"Been a bit busy. I'll come by soon to see you and we can catch up," I told Molly who happily agreed to the plans before making her way back towards the door with a wave over her shoulder at me. Oh yeah, I was on fire today. Maybe this new guy had something I could fix too. He certainly needed some lessons on people skills.

"How do you feel about the violin?" The man said suddenly his voice cutting through the silence. John looked at Molly, but she was already walking out of the door. He glanced briefly at Mike who was still smiling smugly at the two of us before the both of us came to the conclusion that he was talking to the two of us.

"I'm sorry, what?" John asked him at the same time as I snorted at the randomness of the question.

The man was typing away on a laptop as he started talking again. "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." He said as he looked at the two of us. "Would that bother either of you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other," He finished as he threw a hideously false smile at us. I rolled my eyes at him. Mood swings was this guy's middle name.

John looked at him blankly before looking back at Mike. "Oh, you ... you told him about us?" John asked Mike sounding confused. I walked around John and down the lab table glancing over at the experiment that the man had been conducting. The man in question raised an eyebrow at me as I looked over his work, but I paid him no heed. In fact, I completely ignored him and went about with what I was doing.

"Not a word," Mike answered him smugly and I shared a look with Mike for a brief second as I remained silent and let John do all of the talking. He seemed to have a pretty good handle on things. I didn't see a reason for me to jump into the conversation just yet.

"Then who said anything about flat mates?" John asked the man as he turned back to him sounding huffy. That would be the military side coming out. I smiled amused by John's reaction.

The man got up and picked up a great coat before pulling it on. "I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan and a friend he holds in a high regard. Wasn't that difficult a leap."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asked him as he looked at me for an answer. I flashed him a smile as the man ignored the question and wrapped a navy scarf around his neck. It was worn, a good few years old which meant that he loved that scarf. He picked up his mobile and checked it briefly. Yeah, sure he didn't have service I thought amusedly as I caught the man's eye. He caught my slightly raised eyebrow as I looked at him and then at his phone. I saw the barest hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth which gave his little ruse away.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together the three of us ought to be able to afford it," The man said as he walked towards John. I walked back over to Mike and stopped at the end of the lab table closer to John as I stood with my fingers laced behind my back. "We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry…gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary," He continued as he put his phone into the inside pocket of his coat before walking past John and heading for the door. His eyes swept over me again as he walked past me.

"Is that it?" John asked him sounding flabbergasted. The man turned back from the door and strolled closer to the two of us again.

"Is that what?" The man asked him. Any normal person might have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but I only raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I popped my hip to the right in a general display of my attitude.

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" John asked him sounding slightly irate. I had to say this was rather entertaining to watch.

"Problem?" The man asked him quirking one of his eyebrows. John smiled at him in disbelief before looking across to Mike for help. Mike only continued to smile so John looked back at the younger man in front of us.

John looked at me briefly for a second and after taking in my stance he decided to handle this for the both of us. "We don't know a thing about each other; we don't know where we're meeting; we don't even know your name."

The man looked at the both of us closely for a second. I saw a flash of amusement take over his features as he looked at me which only made me narrow my eyes at him before he started speaking. "I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him…possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic…quite correctly, I'm afraid." John down at his leg and cane and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He asked us smugly as he turned and walked to the door again. He opened it and walked through, but then he leaned back into the room again. "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street," He said as he click-winked at me before looking round at Mike. "Afternoon."

Mike raised a finger in farewell as Sherlock disappeared from the room. As the door slams shut behind him, John turned and looked at Mike in disbelief. Mike smiled and nodded at him as I uncrossed my arms and looked right at Mike. "Yeah. He's always like that," Mike told us as I smiled brightly at him.

I smiled at John before looking back at Mike a thought already forming in my head. "I believe this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," I remarked with a large grin on my face. John looked at me in disbelief as Mike shook his head at me.

"I was right, I am going to regret introducing you two," Mike said with a groan as I rushed to the door, my hair flying wildly behind me.

"It was nice meeting you John, I'll see you tomorrow!" I shouted over my shoulder as I opened the door and started to walk out. I didn't even have to speak one word to the man to know that I was going to end up liking him.

"Are you seriously going to meet him tomorrow?" John called after me and I popped my head back inside of the room with a big grin on my face.

"Of course," I told John as if he already should have known this about me. "I'll see you later Mike," I told the man who looked at me slightly horrified by what he had wrought before I left the room again. I had some really important things to take care of now.

"Is she seriously going to meet him tomorrow?" I heard John asking Mike in disbelief as Mike chuckled in response as the door was closing. I paused for a brief moment to listen to the two men. People said the most interesting things when they thought you couldn't hear them.

"That's Lexi for you," I heard Mike tell John simply and I chortled to myself as I made my way out of Bart's and back out into the cold chill of the London afternoon. I hailed a cab and slipped inside the backseat once again. I gave the cabbie the address and he pulled out onto the road and back into traffic. I looked out the window watching the streets of London speeding past me as I smiled to myself. I pulled out my phone and read the text message that had come through.

"_**Causing any trouble?"**_

"_**You know me, I'm always causing trouble. Where would be the fun in life if I didn't cause trouble? You should try it sometimes, maybe you would like it. -L"**_ I texted back with a small chuckle knowing that that was never going to happen.

Sherlock Holmes, I thought in my head. He might just be the rudest man I had ever met, but I couldn't help but find him completely interesting. I found myself seriously considering sharing a flat with the two men I had only just met. John would be a hard man to sell on the idea, but Sherlock seemed like the sort of person I could get along with. Maybe Mike had been right, maybe there was someone out there that could handle my personality. I nodded decisively to myself. The game was on and the streets of London had better be ready for me.


	3. The Game Is On

**(A/N) In which Lexi and Sherlock enter the fray of what Lexi likes to call "The Case of the Killer Cabbie." How will John and Sherlock fair against Lexi and how will John deal with getting caught up in the chaos? **

**Song that inspired the chapter which I do recommend you listen to: Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya! by Dropkick Murphys.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Two- The Game Is On<p>

"'**Come, Watson, come!' he cried. 'The game is afoot.'"― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes**

I had returned home the day before in a rather good mood. I contemplated whether or not I was actually going to look at the flat with the two men. I had finally decided that I was going to show up. The worst that could happen was that I found out that both men were psychopathic murders. I trusted my judge of character however and my trust in Mike that he wouldn't introduce me to two men that could potentially harm me. John was a military man and his hesitation at Sherlock's offer until he got more information out of the man meant he was more of the cautious type. I really liked John and it didn't happen too often that I found someone that I could instantly decide I liked. I would be surprised to see if he would come or not. I think curiosity would win out with him. Sherlock on the other hand was just plain rude if his treatment of Molly was any indication, but beyond that he seemed like someone I could get along with. He was so much like someone else I knew too and I had learnt how to deal with him pretty quickly. I actually found his delivery oddly refreshing.

I hated people who were fake to your face because they thought it was too rude to tell you the blatant truth. I would rather someone come straight out and tell me exactly what was on their mind rather than try and spare my feelings by being fake. If I liked you I showed it and if I didn't like you, you defiantly knew it. The world would be so much easier to understand if people stopped beating around the bush and actually spoke their minds. Not everyone saw it that way though. Sherlock either didn't care what people thought about him, which was why he spoke the way he wanted to, or he really didn't realize that what he was doing might be considered to be hurtful by some people.

Growing up I learnt that being the way I am, seeing the world differently than most, it had its cost. I saw the puzzles in everything, they were everywhere and people were the most brilliant puzzles. Like John who had been injured in war, but missed the battlefield and Sherlock who was just one large puzzle that even I couldn't understand fully. Once I would start looking, it was always impossible to stop looking for the next puzzle, something to occupy my mind with. People, all the deceits and disillusions in everything they did, everything that made up their lives were some of the most interesting puzzles I could find. Not everyone appreciated seeing as such. It was a lonely way to live to be sure, but that was just the cost of being able to see what others missed. Well, may people saw, but did not observe.

I felt envy for those who could go through life not seeing the connections I saw. When I looked at someone, I could always deduce everything about them. Sure, every now and then I would make a mistake, but that was rare. I wanted to be able to meet someone and get to know them without knowing everything about them from a first glance. I actually wanted to take the time to get to know someone. Sherlock, I didn't know everything about him. Some things were easy to deduce of course, but he remained a puzzle to me. I was intrigued by him because of this, because for once I didn't know everything about someone I had met. I only knew one other person I couldn't fully understand who still surprised me often. I knew Sherlock suffered the same lonely existence I did. That was apparent by the way he had told Mike that it would be hard to find him a flat mate.

I was curious to see if John would turn up or not. To him, Sherlock and I must be the strangest people he had ever met. Even he gave me the same looks as everyone else did after meeting me. Mike had gotten used to my personality. Molly didn't really seem to mind my strangeness, but after seeing how Sherlock acted around her, she was probably too used to it by now. I acted the way I did because of many years of being on my own, many years where I was pushed around for just being myself. I kind of hoped that John would turn up, though he had many reasons why he shouldn't. I just had this feeling that something good could come out of knowing him and Sherlock. My interest in Sherlock had led to me doing an internet search on his name. The one thing I had found of note was a website called the **Science of Deduction** which I found out was one he used for cases. He also had a few things posted on the site such as mysterious messages in code sent to him by an Anonymous stalker. I added that fun little fact to the long list I was compiling on anything odd or interesting about Sherlock Holmes in my attempt to figure him out.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective.<strong>

**I'm not going to go into detail about how I do what I do because chances are you wouldn't understand. If you've got a problem that you want me to solve, then contact me. Interesting cases only please.**

**This is what I do:**

**1. I observe everything.**

**2. From what I observe, I deduce everything.**

**3. When I've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how mad it might seem, must be the truth.**

**If you need assistance, contact me and we'll discuss its potential.**

* * *

><p>Someone was slightly egotistical. "I'm not going to go into detail about how I do what I do because chances are you wouldn't understand," I said to myself in a mock impression of Sherlock's deep baritone. It didn't come out nearly as perfect as I would have liked due to my high soprano which currently had a bit of an Irish lilt to it in my tired state. I snorted to myself and rolled my eyes at my computer screen. Let him try that one on me. I'm not saying I am not a tad bit egotistical myself. I wasn't known for always being modest, but it was just the way he was so full of himself. That might need a little bit of work. Interesting cases only? I laughed, actually laughed, at that. Yeah there had to be tons of those in London. I should know, I remembered some of the cases I had been approached with in the past. I liked what he said though, he observed everything, deduced from what he observed, and once he eliminated what couldn't be, whatever crazy thing left over had to be the answer.<p>

Well, whether it was a good idea or not I was going to check out this flat with them on Baker Street. It wasn't like I had to make a decision to take the flat or not right now. I would at show up and check the place out. Even living with two wackos would be better than where I was currently living. I swept my eyes over my flat which had books, papers, and boxes in just about every inch of available room. I had more case boxes stored away in the attic. This place was depressing to look at. I looked into the kitchen where my chemistry equipment was set up and sighed. I needed a place I could actually do some work in. This place was cheap, which was the only reason I had taken it. Sharing rent with two flat mates would mean I could move out of here and into a better place. I needed a fresh start. I needed to start getting my life back together. It had been four years and I was still avoiding everything that reminded me of my old life. What the hell? It couldn't hurt anything if I got to know two more people and it certainly seemed like Sherlock and John might be a little bit different than anyone I had ever met before.

At six thirty the next evening I had already made my way out of my flat and hailed a cab over to Baker Street. I was dressed similarly to the day before, but I had left my hair flowing down around me rather than tying it back. I fidgeted in my seat on the short ride over to Baker Street. I was actually excited to be seeing the two men again. John was interesting to talk to and I had yet to actually talk to Sherlock. I preferred to stay silent when I was observing people. It would be interesting to see how he acted today when he was not necessarily working. I smiled widely to myself as the cab pulled up along the curbing next to the door of 221B just as Sherlock was getting out of the cab in front of mine. I paid the cabbie and thanked him as I slid out of the cab and stepped out onto the street. John was standing over by the door marked 221B as I walked over to join him with a wide grin plastered on my face. I was glad that John had turned up after all. I was right, his curiosity over the two of us had ultimately won out.

"Hello," Sherlock greeted us as he reached through the window of his cab and handed some money to the cab driver. "Thank you," He said as John and I turned to face him as he walked over to us.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes. Ms. MacKenna," John greeted us as he offered Sherlock his hand. I wrinkled my nose when John called me Ms. MacKenna. I hadn't been called that for a while and I had swiftly put an end to that. Ms. MacKenna made me sound old. Granted I was thirty-one, but I didn't like all of the formalities. I had been raised by them and that was a period of my life that I wanted to forget.

"Sherlock, please," He responded as they shook hands. Men, I would never fully understand them. They had so many customs, so many little things I had observed them doing. There were certain unspoken rituals that men seemed to have when greeting each other that every man understood. It was the same thing with women though. The unspoken warning to other women over a man that had already been claimed. The way women could act nice to each other for all the public to see while they both mutual hated one another, their silent comments unheard, but certainly understood. These observable transactions were some of the most interesting puzzles that remained to be solved. I doubted that I would ever truly understand men, but I wasn't meant to though. This was going to be interesting, living with two men. It would probably be interesting for them to be living with me. I was told I was a hard to handle, not that I believed it.

"Just Lexi," I told both men as I shook their hands in turn with a pleasant smile on my face. This might not actually be too bad. They both seemed rather nice. If anything they were a step up from my sleazy landlord so that was something at least. It might take some time getting used to, but as long as they didn't mind my tendency to sing opera or the fact that I often displayed some rather bad habits due to my Irish heritage, we should all get along perfectly well without killing one another.

"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive," John commented as he looked around the street. I nodded my head in agreement. This flat was certainly in a better part of London than my flat was. The perks of being Sherlock Holmes.

"Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out," Sherlock told us and I raised one of my eyebrows at him in amusement. I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" John asked him confused as I smiled beside him. Oh this was just perfect. I quiet possibly had just found another person I would like right away.

"Oh no. I ensured it," He answered John with a smile as the front door opened to reveal the aforementioned Mrs Hudson. She opened her arms up to the younger man with a smile on her face.

"Sherlock, hello," She greeted him as Sherlock turned and walked into her arms. He hugged her briefly before steeping back to introduce the two of us. I wasn't overly surprised by this display of affection even if it was coming from Sherlock. This Mrs. Hudson seemed like the mothering type.

"Mrs Hudson, Doctor John Watson and Lexi MacKenna," Sherlock introduced us as he pointed us out in turn to the elderly woman. I smiled brightly back at her. For once I didn't try to deduce someone I had just met. Of course that didn't mean that I didn't notice a lot more about the woman that an average person wouldn't, I just didn't put effort into trying to deduce her.

"Hello," Mrs Hudson greeted us with a warm smile. Yup, I liked her, there was no decision that even had to be made. I was starting to think that meeting Sherlock and John was not an accident. It was like fate had finally brought us together.

"How do?" John greeted her as he shook her hand. Again with the formalities. Maybe I just had a problem with it because I was a very informal sort of person. Ugh, there was no way I was going to be all formal around them. They would have to learn to deal with me sometime and now seemed like a good time to get acquainted with what someone had once called my "bombshell" of a personality.

"Come in," Mrs Hudson said as she gestured for us to enter. Shooing us inside out of the cold, London air.

"Thank you," John told her as he stepped inside of 221B leaving Sherlock and I standing next to each other outside of the door.

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked me as he gestured for me to enter before him.

"I think so," I answered him with a smile as I stepped over the threshold. Mrs. Hudson closed the door behind us as Sherlock passed by me in the hallway his shoulder brushing against mine even though there was plenty of room. It was almost like he was judging my reaction to being close to people. He looked back at me briefly before he trotted up the stairs to the first floor. He paused and waited for the two of us to join him. John started up the stairs as Mrs. Hudson greeted me.

"Hello dear," She said as she gave me a motherly hug. I smiled at the woman as she released me. It had been a long time since I had been given such a warm hug. Yeah, Mike hugged me some times in greeting, but those were fleeting hugs of companionship. I hadn't been given a hug that felt affectionate in such a long time.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," I told Mrs. Hudson with a bright smile. I could see why even Sherlock seemed to warm to this woman. There was no way you couldn't love her immediately. She tittered away for a second longer over me before pushing me toward the stairs. I quickly ascended the stairs meeting John at the top of the stairs just as he reached the first floor. Sherlock opened the door ahead of him and walked through, revealing the living room of the flat.

John and I followed him through the door and we looked around the room together. I smiled as I saw the possessions and boxes scattered around the room in a sort of organized chaos. I found the mess rather homely. It made the place actually looked lived in rather than kept neat like a show room. A home was supposed to be lived in, not be put on display. Actually, it kind of reminded me of my own flat. I always liked things scattered about rather than organized into its "proper" place. It was like a visual representation of the way my brain worked. Scattered and unorganized, but I could find everything I was looking for.

"Well, this could be very nice," John commented as I walked past him into the living and looked around the clutter at all of the odds and ends. There was a stack of books on a desk and I ran my hand over the spines reading the titles. There were books on subjects ranging from bee keeping to chemistry in the stack. Well at least we had something in common. I made a metal note of that as I continued exploring his possessions. Each one provided me a clue to the character of Sherlock Holmes.

"Very nice. Perfect. I am absolutely loving this," I said with a smile as I straightened up and turned around. My eyes scanned the room before falling on the violin we had been warned about. Well, it seemed like Sherlock might not mind my viola playing. His violin looked to be in good condition. I made the same assumption about it as I had his scarf. It was reasonably old, but well cared for which meant it was a possession that Sherlock prized above the rest of his things.

"Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely," Sherlock stated as he looked around the flat happily. It was the first time I had ever seen the man actually smile. It was a good look on him, I mused. That would be my experiment, I would try to see what I could to get Sherlock Holmes to smile.

"So I went straight ahead and moved in," He continued as John simultaneously said "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out ... Oh." He paused, embarrassed as he realized what Sherlock was saying and I held back my giggle at his blunder. Nice one Watson, I thought as a grin spread over my face.

"So this is all ...," John remarked uncomfortably as he took in the clutter around the room. Yes, the room was a little disorganized, but that was easily taken care of. He should see my flat if he thought this was bad. Actually, he shouldn't. I had some things lying around the place that might scare him off. Like the sword…hmmm I would have to find a place to put that. Maybe Sherlock would let me hang it up over the mantel. That could work.

"Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit," Sherlock said as he walked across the room and made a half-hearted attempt to tidy up a little. He threw a couple of folders into a box and then took some apparently unopened envelopes across to the fireplace where he proceeded to put them onto the mantelpiece and then stab a multi tool knife into them. That was as good a letter box as any, of course people looked at you funny when you went to pay bills and they had large stab marks in them. Not that I knew from experience….

"I actually like the clutter. It's sort of like an organized mess. Very homey," I remarked with a grin and I noticed the small smile that graced Sherlock's face. Sherlock Homes zero, me one. Not like Sherlock actually knew that I would be keeping score for the amount of times I was able to make him smile. It was then that I was interrupted in my musings by John who lifted up his cane to point at something on the mantelpiece that I had somehow yet to notice.

"That's a skull," He remarked and I looked to where he was pointing to find that there was indeed a skull on the corner of the mantelpiece. Please tell me it was real! I could just see getting Sherlock to do a whole Shakespeare rendition for me. Not like that was probably ever going to happen.

"A wonderful observation Watson," I muttered under my breath with a hint of a smile in my voice. Sherlock as it appeared seem to hear me given the fact that he smirked at my comment, but thankfully John seemed oblivious to the fact that I had said anything.

"Friend of mine. When I say 'friend'...,"Sherlock told him as I crossed the room and picked up the skull in one hand. Sherlock was looking me in a manner that if looks could kill I might possibly be dead. I ignored him as I stared at the skull and adopted a Shakespearean pose. I cleared my throat before I pulled the most serious expression I could muster.

"Alas poor Yorrick… I knew him well," I recited dramatically before putting it back in its proper place with a little giggle. Best not to push Sherlock too far. I could now cross that off of my "Always Wanted to Do" list. I heard John cover up a laugh with a none to convincing cough behind me. Smooth Watson, real smooth. When I looked back Sherlock was looking at me with an expression that was a cross between annoyance and perplexity. Bless his heart, he had yet to see the extent of my behavior.

It was now that Mrs Hudson made her appearance. She picked up a cup and saucer that Sherlock had left on a table while the man in question took off his greatcoat and scarf and hug them up behind the door. "What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? Ms. MacKenna? There's two other bedrooms, one upstairs and one down, if you'll be needing three bedrooms,"Mrs Hudson said as she looked at the two of us expectantly.

"Of course we'll be needing three," John told her and I snorted at the exact implications of Mrs Hudson's words. Could this woman be any more amazing? It was amusing to watch John get so completely uncomfortable with a situation. She either thought I was in a relationship with John or Sherlock or that John and Sherlock were in a relationship.

"Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here," Mrs. Hudson told us confidentially before lowering her voice to a whisper at the end of her sentence. "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones and I know how young people are these days living together before marriage," Mrs. Hudson nodded as she tried to figure out the nature of our relationships with each other.

John looked across the room to Sherlock as if expecting him to confirm that they were not involved in that way, but Sherlock appeared oblivious to what Mrs. Hudson was insinuating. John looked back at me for help and I only shrugged before looking at Mrs. Hudson. "Well I've never tried polygamy before and I doubt John or Sherlock want to try bisexual polygamy. I'll let you know if that ever changes though," I told the woman as I crossed over to the other side of the room. John looked at me flabbergasted and started spluttering as his cheeks grew slightly pink. I only shrugged at him again as I looked at the things Sherlock had lying out. Sherlock and I looked up at each other for a brief moment, both of us smirking at each other as Mrs. Hudson walked across to the kitchen. I looked up at her just as she turned back and frowned at Sherlock.

"Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made," She scolded him before she went into the kitchen and started to tidy it up a bit. I glanced into the kitchen and saw that the kitchen table was covered in chemistry equipment. Hmm maybe I could get Sherlock to let me use some of his equipment for my own experiments. Doing experiments at the kitchen table didn't look like it was going to be a problem around Sherlock.

John walked over to one of the two arm chairs in the room and plumped the cushion on the chair before dropping heavily down into it. He looked across the room at Sherlock who is still tidying up a little though now it was more for show than an actual attempt and clearing anything up. "I looked you up on the internet last night," John said suddenly and I turned briefly to look at him as I picked up a book from the stack on bee keeping and flipped through the pages with interest.

"Anything interesting?" Sherlock asked him abandoning his attempt and cleaning as he turned around.

"Found your website, _**The Science of Deduction**_."

"What did you think?" Sherlock asked him smiling proudly as I closed the book and placed it back on the top of the stack. I walked over to the other empty arm chair and sat myself down on it, crossing my legs at the knee. I folded my hands on top of my knees before looking between both men to watch their conversation with one eyebrow raised in interest.

John threw Sherlock a "you have got to be kidding me" type of look and I watched as Sherlock's face fell. "You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb."

"Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone," Sherlock responded snappishly.

"How?" John asked him incredulously. Sherlock smiled and turned away from him. I knew that smugness anywhere, it was a look that had graced my own face on many occasions.

"I rather liked your website. I particularly found your analysis of tobacco ash fascinating," I said as I lounged back into the chair kicking my legs up over the arm. Sherlock and John turned to look at me. John looked at me in exasperation while Sherlock smirked at me but before he could respond Mrs. Hudson walked out of the kitchen reading the newspaper.

"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same," Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock walked over to the window of the living room and looked down at the street below. I heard the sounds of a car pulling up outside.

As Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock were the only to people who currently lived at 221B and I was quiet sure that Mrs. Hudson wasn't expecting any visitors that could only mean that the person who had just arrived was coming to see Sherlock. Given the nature of his profession that person was probably from the police. Three serial suicides and now someone from the police was coming to visit the world's only consulting detective. That could only mean one thing.

"Four," Sherlock and I said in unison as I got to my feet. I had never seen someone turn around faster than he did in that moment. "There's been a fourth," I continued ignoring the looks that were being sent my way by three pairs of eyes.

"Yes, and there's something different this time," Sherlock said after a moment. He continued to watch me closely almost as if it was the first time he had actually looked at me.

"A fourth?" Mrs. Hudson asked the two of us sounding completely confused. It was then that we all heard the door opening down stairs before the sound of loud footfalls could be heard coming up the stairs. A second later an old friend I knew quiet well walked into the door.

"Where?" Sherlock asked D.I. Lestrade barely even giving him a second to catch his breath.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," Lestrade told him as I watched the man casually waiting for him to take notice of me.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different," Sherlock asked him sounding if anything slightly annoyed. I could tell that he was secretly pleased that Lestrade had come to him with a case. He had been waiting for this.

"You know how they never leave notes?" Lestrade told him sounding extremely tired. The lines on his face provided all the evidence I needed to deduce that he was nearing his breaking point.

"Yeah."

"This one did," Lestrade told him. I put my hands on my hips and raised one of my eyebrows before clearing my throat. Lestrade and Sherlock both looked in my direction as I mock glared at Lestrade.

"Are you just going to stand there and ignore me Greg? I would have thought you missed me more than that. I haven't seen you in forever! Don't I even get a hug?" I asked him with a fake note of hurt in my voice. The man stared at me looking completely dumbfounded. Yeah, I had that effect on people.

"Lexi? What the hell are you doing here? No, wait, don't tell me. I don't think I even want to know," Lestrade said as he ran a hand down his face and sighed tiredly. I laughed at his disgruntled expression before I skipped over to his side and smacked him playfully on the arm.

"Aww you know you've missed me. Come here," I said before I pulled the man into a hug. He returned it awkwardly as Sherlock cleared his throat behind us. I pulled away from my hug and looked back at Sherlock with a pout. Nobody interrupted me when I was getting my hug on, not even Sherlock Holmes. I stuck my tongue out at him. I knew it was childish, but I didn't care.

"You two know each other?" Sherlock remarked with one raised eyebrow as he pointed between the two of us. I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes as I snorted loudly.

"No shit Sherlock. I just go around hugging random people I don't know," I told him with an exasperated look before giggling at his irritated expression he had thrown my way.

"Lexi used to work with me on cases when you were absent," Lestrade explained to Sherlock as I smiled madly beside him. It had been a while since I had seen Greg. Of course, I really didn't have a reason for going to see him much these days. There were the occasional social visits, but those were few and far between lately. Sherlock stared blankly back at the two of us as Lestrade looked pointedly at me. "Any chance I can get you to come along and take a look?"

"Greg," I whined with a roll of my eyes. "I don't consult anymore, you know that," I told him as I crossed my arms and fixed him with a stern look. I didn't work cases for a reason and he knew it. The last case I had worked on had been the reason I had left. I didn't like talking about it either.

"All the same, I would really appreciate it if you would come along. I need you Lexi, God help me I need you," Lestrade tried again trying to appeal to my interest. I had to admit this case was interesting. Three serial suicides and then finally a note. I groaned inwardly, I just couldn't resist. "Will you come?" Lestrade asked turning away from me and directing his question at Sherlock.

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked him seeming to recover from whatever thing had been going on with him since Lestrade had announced that I had used to work on cases with him.

"It's Anderson," Lestrade told us reluctantly. Well that just killed any chance he had of getting me to possibly agree to coming to take a look for him.

"Anderson won't work with me," Sherlock and I said in unison as we both grimaced. Sherlock shot me an annoyed look and I raised an eyebrow at him in response. He was in for a real wakeup call if he thought he was the only genius in the room. I didn't like to boast, but I was intelligent.

"Well, he won't be your assistant," Lestrade said trying to defuse the tension between Sherlock and me. He could glare at me all he wanted to. Most people probably backed down under the look he was giving me, but I only smiled back at him looking completely innocent.

"I need an assistant," Sherlock complained. I snorted at him before turning back to look at Greg. Against my better judgment I was at least going to go and take a look at the crime scene. If anything it would at least annoy Sherlock. And…it would be good for me though I was loath to admit it.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked us again. I felt bad for the guy, he seemed rather desperate for the help. The fact that he was even asking me when he knew that I didn't work cases anymore meant that he really was out of his depth.

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind," Sherlock answered him. Lestrade looked at me waiting for an answer and I sighed heavily. If I told him yes I would have a harder time saying no to him in the future. If I said no it would only give Sherlock smug satisfaction because he would think I was backing off. I was not going to give him that satisfaction. Damn Sherlock bloody Holmes.

"I'll come, but you owe me," I finally told Lestrade who smiled at me smugly.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist," Lestrade teased me and I narrowed my eyes at him in a glare.

"This doesn't change anything Lestrade. I'll come look at the crime scene, but this does not mean I am coming back," I warned the man as I poked him in the chest. He chuckled at me like he always did when he knew I wasn't actually angry. He had seen my anger before, he claimed I could make grown men cry.

"Sure you're not. Our usual?" Lestrade asked me as I sighed as I gave in.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll ride with Sherlock," I told him as I waved him off. There was no way I was showing up in a police car. Anderson would have a field day with that one.

"Thank you," Lestrade told me with a grin before looking at John and Mrs. Hudson for a moment and nodding briefly. He turned around and hurried off back down the stairs. As soon as the door slammed shut down stairs Sherlock leaped into the air and clenched his fists triumphantly before twirling around the room happily.

"Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" He exclaimed as he picked up his scarf and coat and pulled them on as he headed into the kitchen. I raised my eyebrow at him. Well, this would prove to be rather interesting. "Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food," Sherlock called from the kitchen as I sighed heavily. I shook my head before turning around and trudging down the stairs to wait for Sherlock by the front door. What had I let Lestrade get me into?

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper," I heard Mrs. Hudson reminding Sherlock as I left the flat. You tell him, Mrs. H.

"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" I heard Sherlock call from the flat before he appeared at the top of the stairs and bolted down them. His excited expression faded when he saw me at the bottom of the stairs. I made my face an expressionless mask as I stared back at Sherlock. "You used to work with Lestrade?" Sherlock asked me the question I knew he wanted more of an explanation for.

"Yes, it was around seven years ago. There had been a case in the news, a serial killer case. The police were farther out of their depth than ever. I showed up in Lestrade's office. Gave him quiet a scare too. I worked with him on that case and he ended up calling me back to consult on a few more for him. After a while I was getting calls all the time. I left working on cases about four years ago," I explained to Sherlock knowing that he would figure everything out sooner or later.

"That would be around the time you were struggling with your addiction?" Sherlock asked me looking emotionless.

"Yes. I'm assuming your absence that Lestrade spoke about was when you were struggling with you own?" I answered him as ran a hand through my hair letting my curls flow through my fingertips. Sherlock nodded in response after a second.

"I don't need your help," He finally said and I snorted. No beating around the bush for this bloke. His bluntness didn't faze me in the least bit.

"Well I don't need you either sunshine, but Lestrade asked me to take a look so you'll just have to deal with it Lock," I told him with a sweet smile as I brushed my hair behind my ears. He was probably used to people backing off, well, he would have to get used to me encroaching upon his territory. If Lestrade wanted me there than I would help whether Sherlock liked it or not. Sherlock and I stared back at each other in stony silence, challenging one another. I could do this all day.

Damn my leg!" We heard John shout suddenly from the living room and we both turned to look back of the stairs. I heard John start apologizing to Mrs. Hudson for his outburst. Sherlock turned back to look at me with this expression in his eyes that looked like he was planning something. Nothing good ever came out of a look like that.

"What do you think of John?" Sherlock asked me suddenly and I looked at him with a calculating eye. I clicked my tongue to the roof of my mouth as I cocked my head to the right in thought.

"Army doctor, loyal. He misses the danger. I noticed it yesterday. There's a tremor in his left hand, but not all of the time. There's also the fact that his limp is psychosomatic. Why?" I asked Sherlock though I was quiet certain I already knew where he was going with his line of questioning.

"I need an assistant. Besides he needs to get out. It will cure that bloody limp of his," Sherlock pointed out and I nodded in agreement. Watson did need to get out and get back into the work, it would be good for him. I frowned thoughtfully, was I describing John or myself?

"I think he'll be perfect," I told Sherlock as we both smiled mischievously at each other as Sherlock offered me his hand. I eyed it quizzically. We had just gone from challenging one another to this.

"We'll cure him of that infernal limp together. Deal?" He asked me while raising one of his own eyebrows in challenge.

"Deal," I told him meeting his challenge as we shook hands. We turned around and trotted back up the stairs together side by side. It seemed as if Sherlock and I had come to an agreement of mutual respect for one another. I still couldn't deduce him completely, but it would appear that Sherlock had accepted the fact that he was going to have to work with me on this case. I still wasn't going to make things easy for him.

"You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor," Sherlock said as soon as we entered the living room again. I crossed my arms and popped my hip to the right as I stood next to Sherlock. It really irritated me that he was still four inches taller than I was and I only reached his shoulder. It made me look a lot less daunting than he was.

"Yes," John said upon taking notice of us. He got to his feet and turned towards the two of us as we walked over to John and stood in front of him.

"Any good?" I asked John with a raised eyebrow. I caught Sherlock smirking out of the corner of my eye as he caught on to what I was doing. I was trying to goad him into taking the bait.

"Very good," John told me as he met my challenge.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths?" Sherlock asked him carrying on our duel interrogation.

"Mmm, yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet," I said as Sherlock caught my eye and we shared a look for a brief moment. We had him already.

"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much," John said quietly as if he was trying to convince himself. He couldn't resist it though. He missed the danger of the chase far too much to back down.

"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked him as I tried to hide my smile. We were good, actually we made a pretty good team. My evening just got really interesting all of a sudden.

"Oh God, yes," John told us fervently without a second's thought. Sherlock and I turned on our heels and headed back down the stairs as John followed after us. Sherlock and I allowed ourselves to glace at each other briefly to smile at our triumph.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out," John called out as he hurried down the stairs after us. I rolled my eyes at the sound of his cane hitting the steps. We were going to have to cure that really quickly because the tapping was just a tad bit annoying.

"The three of you?" Mrs. Hudson asked in confusion as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock and I had almost reached the door, but he quickly turned and walked back towards her. I waited for him with my hand on the door knob as I watched his excitement return. He had mood swings that were almost as bad as mine…almost.

"Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock told her as he took her by the shoulders and kissed her noisily on the cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent," Mrs. Hudson said unable to hide her smile as she looked over at me and saw my expression was much like Sherlock's. Sherlock turned away from her walked back over to me as I threw open the door and walked out to curbing

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" Sherlock called in the door way before he walked out and stopped by my side. He attempted to hail an approaching black cab. "Taxi!" He cried holding his arm out, but the cabbie only drove on as John came out to join us by the curb.

"Oh for god's sakes," I said before stepping out further and whistling shrilly to catch the attention of another approaching cab. The taxi pulled up alongside and I looked back at Sherlock and John. John looked amused, but Sherlock looked irritated. "Being a woman has its advantages," I remarked to John as Sherlock got into the back seat of the cab as soon as it slowed down enough.

I slid in after him with a smirk on my face before John got in next to me and shut the door. It was a bit of a tight fit, but we would manage. Sherlock shouted the address at the cabbie who pulled out back onto the road and started to head for Brixton. We said it companionable silence for a long time while Sherlock pulled out his smartphone and fixed his eyes on it. I pulled out my own phone and texted a quick message to Lestrade that we were on our way over. John kept shooting us nervous glances and finally Sherlock lowered his mobile beside me and looked past me at John.

"Okay, you've got questions," He said as I continued to work on my mobile by bringing up articles from the paper about the last three suicides to try and gather as much information as I could about the case before we arrived. I had been loosely following the case, but I hadn't been paying as much attention as I normally would have if I had been planning to work on it myself.

"Yeah, where are we going?" John asked us and I sighed as I worked on my phone.

"Crime scene, obviously. Next?" I asked John without looking up from my phone. I glanced at Sherlock out of the corner of my eye and caught him smirking at me.

My phone trilled my text alert and I swiped my phone to check my messages. "_**Where are you going?" **_The text read. I groaned inwardly, I didn't want to be doing this right now.

"_**Crime scene. I'm doing Lestrade a favor. -L" **_I texted back simply. That explanation probably wasn't going to fly though. The trill of my text alert a second later confirmed my theory. I ignored the text message. I would probably regret doing so later, but I couldn't handle him on top of Sherlock right now.

"Who are you two? What do you two do?" John asked us before looking at me and continuing. "You said you were a writer, but you used to work for the police."

"Well, not a writer. Not exactly anyway," I remarked as I lowered my phone from a brief second. It trilled in my hand again and I looked down at it with a glare. I deleted the text messages I had received. I would deal with the consequences later.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked John as my phone trilled again. Well someone was being a persistent little bugger.

"I'd say private detectives...," John said slowly hesitating in his response. This is exactly what I was worried about, I was getting roped back into what I had done before. I groaned inwardly. I knew this was going to happen. This was why I always refused to go and just take a look at a crime scene for Greg, but no, I had to be an idiot and agree to come because I wanted to prove to Sherlock that he wasn't the only one who could make deductions.

"But?" I asked John as my phone trilled again. I angrily unlocked it and hit the buttons deleting the text message.

"... but the police don't go to private detectives," John finished as he looked at me and then at my phone which started ringing at that precise moment. I ignored the call quickly.

"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job," Sherlock answered John as I grumbled under my breath. The next case Sherlock was going to be solving was a murder in which I was the killer. I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair before looking up at John.

"I did work like Sherlock before, only I never really gave myself a title," I explained to John before turning back to like at Sherlock. "I like that, consulting detective. It has a nice ring to it."

'What does that mean?" John asked us sounding even more confused than before if that was possible.

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." Sherlock told him before adding almost reluctantly. "Or Lexi."

"Not any more. I'm only doing Lestrade a favor," I reminded Sherlock as my phone trilled again I brought it up to my face and stared at it murderously. This was beyond childish now. Did he not get the message that I wasn't in the mood to talk with him right now?

"The police don't consult amateurs," John said as both men watched me in curiosity over my little display of aggression. I looked up from my phone and raised an eyebrow at John as Sherlock threw him a look that mirrored my own.

"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" You looked surprised," Sherlock remarked as I thought about the ways I could kill someone and get away with it.

"Yes, Lexi asked me that question first and then you. How did you two know? You said you could deduce people? Is that just a game with Mike?" John asked us directing his last question at me. I noticed Sherlock throw a look my way. It was a mixture of surprise and quite possibly of loathing at having been shown up.

"No, it's not a game. Ever since I was a child I took to observing people. Through simple observations you can deduce almost anything about a person. People give away more than they think, especially when they think someone isn't watching them," I explained to John in the best way possible. I had been a lonely child and spent a lot of my time just watching people. No one suspected a child and most times I had witnessed people doing something that they wouldn't if another adult was watching. Of course no one had any idea that I was deducing them. Maybe that was how Sherlock had felt growing up? Not many people wanted to be friends with me after I deduced them, but as a child I hadn't known that it wasn't normal what I could do.

"And you? How did you know?" John asked Sherlock after a moment's contemplation over my explanation. Sherlock was staring at me questioningly. I could see the silent questions he longed to be answered as he studied my face for any traces of emotion that would give away my feelings on the subject. I put on my poker face and remained and emotionless mask. If he had a question for me he could ask it instead of deducing the answer.

"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart's, so Army doctor, obvious," Sherlock told him before I decided to cut in and share my own deductions I had made about John. People were easy enough to read once you knew what to look for. In the case of Sherlock, I could deduce the most basic things off of him. He wasn't a people person, mostly because he thought others were of a lower intelligence to himself. While I shared his aversion to having long conversations with people who made stupid comments, I could stand the company of others for at least a short period of time. Sherlock was a recovering addict like I was. He didn't get along well with his family. He had an older sibling, one he regarded with loathing, though I had the sneaking suspicious that he harbored a secret fondness of sorts for them. Other than that I couldn't deduce anything more about him. He would be my own personal challenge. I would figure out exactly who Sherlock Holmes was.

"Your face is tanned but you don't have a tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not for sunbathing," I remarked before Sherlock continued on with his explanation after throwing me an irritated look at my having interrupted his deductions.

"Your limp's really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan…Afghanistan or Iraq," Sherlock finished loudly clicking the 'k' sound at the end of the final word. I nodded at him in silent agreement and smiled when he continued to look at me with an irritated expression on his face. He would learn to love me really quickly, especially if we became flat mates.

"You said I had a therapist."

"You've got a psychosomatic limp John, of course you've got a therapist," I told him as I patted his shoulder comfortingly. I really liked John which was rather odd for me. I didn't normally develop close attachments towards people so quickly. John was different though and he seemed not to mind my behavior…yet.

"Then there's your brother," Sherlock interjected breaking me out of my thoughts about the man we were deducing.

"Hmm?" John asked him sounding confused as he looked away from me and at Sherlock. He had been studying me closely since my slight attempt at comforting him. It wasn't something I was used to doing, but it seemed to work since John seemed more at ease. Maybe I wasn't so bad at it like I thought I was.

Sherlock held his hand out to John across my chest. "Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flat share, you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then," He said as John gave him the phone. He turned it over in his hands and looked it over as he talked. "Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to Lexi wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already."

"The engraving," John said slowly as I held my hand out to Sherlock and made as gesture for him to give me the phone. He sighed heavily before dropping it into my waiting hand. I turned over the phone, studying it and making my own deductions about it. I turned it over and read the engraving on the back.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry Watson<strong>

**From Clara**

**xxx**

* * *

><p>"Harry Watson, clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently, this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then, six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do… sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you. That says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help, that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking," Sherlock continued with his deductions. Very impressive. Of course he was a lot more long winded than I was.<p>

"How can you possibly know about the drinking?" John asked him completely baffled. I answered him before Sherlock could.

"It was a shot in the dark. A very good one though," I complimented Sherlock who smiled smugly at me as I showed John the phone. "The power connection. You see, there's tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You'd never see those marks on a sober man's phone and you'd never see a drunk's without them," I explained to John as I handed him back his phone.

"Now yours," Sherlock started as his gaze turned to me. "You've received five texts and a phone call from someone in just a few minutes, but you've ignored all of them. So, someone you aren't fond of talking to at the present time," Sherlock continued as I handed him over my phone. He flipped it over in his hands studying it carefully. "This was a gift, someone wanted you to stay in touch, presumably the person who is persistently trying to reach you. Not a romantic attachment, you'd answer them right away, but you've taken to ignoring this person. I'd say an older sibling," Sherlock finished as he handed me back over my phone. I smiled back at him, he had gotten a lot less off of my phone than he had from John's. So I wasn't the only one having issues making deductions.

"There you go you see…you were right," Sherlock told John smiling with satisfaction. I slipped my phone into my inner coat pocket and looked a John. I had to admit it was nice to share my deductions with someone again. Of course, there was always the issue of how they would be received.

"I was right? Right about what?" John asked us sounding stunned that Sherlock had told him he was right about something.

"The police don't consult amateurs," I told John with a smile on my face. Sherlock looked out of the side window and I caught him biting his lip nervously as he waited for John's reaction. He was obviously used to the same reactions I was. Over time I had learnt not to share my deductions with anyone a fact that it seemed Sherlock had learnt too. John however had been all but asking to be deduced.

"That ... was amazing," John said suddenly. Sherlock looked round at John with and expression of surprise upon his face. I mirrored Sherlock's expression. Did he seriously just tell us we were amazing? Well, that was a first.

"Do you think so?" Sherlock asked him after he gained his composure back.

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary," John remarked truthfully and I grinned widely at him.

"That's not what people normally say," Sherlock remarked as we shared a knowing look.

"What do people normally say?" John asked us as he watched the look of understanding pass between us.

"'Piss off'!" We told him in unison before Sherlock and I shared a laugh. John took in the both of us with a look of, 'What have I gotten myself into?' before turning away from us to gaze out the window with a grin on his face.


	4. A Study In Pink

(**A/N) In which Lexi and Sherlock impress John with their deductions and the real chaos begins. I normally will be posting this on Sundays as I am writing a Doctor Who Fic that I post on Saturdays, but I got this chapter finished early so I decided to post it rather than waiting. Hope you like it, lots of Lexi attitude and an appearance by one of my favourite characters in Sherlock towards the end. Yea! So cheers to you all from your high functioning sociopathic author Kattie Holmes. Oh and I want to add here that if you would like to see a picture of Lexi, I put the picture up of her on my Flicker page which you will find a link to on my author page.**

**Song that inspired the chapter which I do suggest you listen to: Watching the Detectives by Elvis Castello.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Three- A Study In Pink<p>

**"It was easier to know it than to explain why I know it. If you were asked to prove that two and two made four, you might find some difficulty, and yet you are quite sure of the fact. ~ Sherlock Holmes" ― Arthur Conan Doyle, _A Study in Scarlet_**

The cab arrived at Lauriston Gardens and the three of us got out of the cab. Sherlock paid the cabbie before we walked towards the police tape that was strung across the road. The crime scene was in a rather out of the way part of London and in an abandoned building no less. Same MO as the rest of the suicides which was either a good thing or a bad thing. I suspected that these were not suicides, but actually murder. Therefore, it made it easier for us that the killer hadn't deviated from his usual tactics, though more difficult for the police because it meant he wasn't sloppy.

"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked us suddenly as we walked. I angrily shoved my mobile into the inner pocket of my coat. I would be shoving it somewhere else later on, a place were the sun didn't shine. I flicked my attention over to Sherlock and John instead. I had bigger fish to fry right now.

"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker," John told the two of us. I kept up with his pace instead of leaving him behind.

"Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything," Sherlock said smiling proudly to himself. I snorted to myself as I watched him peacocking. If his head was any bigger it wouldn't fit through the doorways.

"And Harry's short for Harriet," John finished. I had to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks as John's words registered with him.

"Harry's your sister," He deadpanned. Ah there was the deflation of his ego I was looking for. "What about you, did I miss anything?" Sherlock demanded of me and I giggled at his expression.

"I'm an only child, so not an older sibling no. He is older than me though so you got that right," I told Sherlock deciding not to be completely mean and at least give him a little credit. He had gotten it half right. Even when deducing someone you could never be completely right all the time. Sherlock looked even more irate over the fact that he had made a wrong deduction about me.

"Look, what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" John asked me was we continued onwards leaving Sherlock behind to have his little tantrum. He get over the little blow to his ego and pride soon enough.

"Sister!" Sherlock said furiously through gritted teeth. "Only child!" He continued on bitterly. I rolled my eyes at his childish tantrum over being told that he was wrong. Someone was a major drama queen.

"No, seriously, what am I doing here?" John asked us again and I shrugged my shoulders at him feigning innocence. I had never actually been innocent a day in my life though. That was one of the reasons why Lestrade always shuddered when I smiled mischievously. He always knew I was up to something when I gave him that look.

"There's always something," Sherlock said exasperatedly as he started walking again. It only took a few strides for him to catch up with us. We approached the police tape where we were met with another face that was familiar to me.

"Hello, freak," Donovan greeted Sherlock before she took notice of me. She looked shocked at livid to say the least. "Oh look its freakette too. I thought we were rid of you," She sneered. Ah Donovan, oh the fond memories. Of course that thought was dripping with sarcasm.

"We're here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade," Sherlock told her sounding rather bored. I was more than used to this treatment and it appeared that Sherlock was as well. It was nice to know that some people never changed no matter how much time went by without you seeing them.

"Why?" Donovan asked us sounding annoyed. She was rather lucky that I was making an effort to control my slightly bad temper. The last time I had seen this woman had not ended pleasantly for me. It was a testament of my strength that I was not currently calling her some choice words in multiple languages.

"We were invited," I told her as I crossed my arms in front of my chest and popped my hip to the right. Attitude had always been my defense mechanism.

"Why?"

"I think he wants us to take a look," Sherlock answered her sarcastically. I smirked up at him and watched as his eyes flicked towards me, showing his amusement.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" Donovan remarked as Sherlock lifted the police tape up and allowed me to duck under it before he followed after me.

"Sally if I had known you had missed me so much I would have come back just to see you! I honestly miss all the good times we spent together. All our sparkling conversations," I said as I pulled the woman into a hug and kissed him dramatically on the cheek. The woman tried to shake me off of her, but I clung to her with surprising strength for my skinny frame despite her best efforts. "Oh this brings back so many fond memories," I told the struggling woman as I let her go and made the show of wiping away fake tears. I wrinkled my nose when I caught a whiff of the woman I had just hugged. "Oh, well, someone didn't make it home last night," I remarked and she glared at me looking positively livid. Sherlock was smirking beside me as I stepped back to stand next to him. Oh yeah, I was good.

"I don't ...," She said to me angrily before she seemed to take notice of John for the first time. "Er, who's this?" She asked us as she pointed at John. Ah Watson! Couldn't forget Watson. He had already proven himself to be a valuable asset. If anything he was at least interesting, someone to bounce ideas off of.

"Colleague of ours, Doctor Watson," Sherlock told her as he turned to John. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan, old friend," He introduced him his voice dripping with sarcasm. He was still smirking at what I had done to Sally. I mentally patted myself on the back for that one. I normally wasn't a huge fan of human contact, but it had its advantages like making other people uncomfortable.

"A colleague? How do you two get a colleague?! How do you two even know each other?" Donovan asked us as she turned to John. "What, did they follow you home?"

"Would it be better if I just waited and ...," John started, but before he could continue Sherlock cut him off as I shook my head.

"No," Sherlock told him as he lifted the police tape up for him, ignoring Donovan's question about how we knew each other. John ducked under it joining us on the other side and I patted his arm and flashed him a brilliant smile which he returned hesitantly as if he didn't know if he should encourage me or not. I shrugged and turned back to Sherlock. Donovan lifted her radio to her mouth as soon as John had joined us.

"The freaks are here. Bringing them in," She spoke into her radio as she led us towards the house. Sherlock and I looked around the area and at the ground with a critical eye was we approached the house. Unfortunately, due to the Yarders' incompetence, most of the evidence outside had already been tampered with. I couldn't discern which tire patterns belonged to the Yarders or the possible killers. Sherlock seemed to be having the same problem as me if his expression was any indication. As we reached the pavement a man dressed in a blue coverall came walking out of the house.

"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again," Sherlock said as Anderson looked at him with distaste. Anderson, I actually loathed him more than I did Donovan if that was even possible. Anderson had always harbored a dislike for me and the feeling was more than mutual.

"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson snapped at him and I rolled my eyes at the man. He was the most irritating man on the entire planet.

Sherlock took a deep breath beside me and I mimicked his actions. I wrinkled my nose for the second time in a few minutes. "Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?" Sherlock asked him with a smug smile on his face.

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that," Anderson scoffed with a snort. I shook my head at that, when was Anderson going to learn that everything we said was right? We, or at least I, didn't say anything unless I was dead sure I was right.

"Actually Anderson, your deodorant told us that," I told the man while rolling my eyes as I stepped around Sherlock. Sherlock was smirking, looking rather amused with how things were going with Anderson. The man looked shocked as soon as he saw me before his shock was replaced with irritation.

"What the hell are you doing here? Never mind, my deodorant?" Anderson asked me looking like he was going to burst a blood vessel in his forehead. Hmm, good thing we had a doctor with us.

"It's for men," I confided to him in a fake whisper as if it was a secret with a little quirky expression on my face. I heard John cover up a laugh with a cough behind us, still none to convincingly. I would have to work on that, Watson was going to blow my cover one of these days if he kept that up.

"Well, of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!" Anderson argued back glaring at me murderously. Oh yeah, I was so terrified. I was quivering in fear. I rolled my eyes at him, smirking like a villain in a bad Western movie. All I needed was a handlebar mustache.

"So's Sergeant Donovan," Sherlock remarked as Anderson looked round at Donovan in trepidation. Sherlock sniffed pointedly as I smirked smugly beside him. "Ooh, and I think it just vaporized. May we go in?" Sherlock asked him as John shifted a little uncomfortably behind us. Oh, we were just getting started. For an Army doctor he certainly was antsy.

"Now look, whatever you're trying to imply ...," Anderson said as he turned back and pointed at us angrily.

"We're not implying anything," I told him pointedly as I flipped my hair over my shoulders and strode past Donovan towards the front door. Sherlock followed me and we both stopped by the door to make a few final parting remarks.

"I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over," Sherlock told Anderson as we turned back to look at the man. John stood looking between the four of us completely baffled by what was going on. He would learn soon enough if he was going to be working with Sherlock and me.

"And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees," I finished off in smug satisfaction as I watched Anderson and Donovan share a look before they stared back at us in horror.

Sherlock smiled smugly before the both of us turned and entered the house together without another word. John followed us into the house after a second and Sherlock and I lead the way to a room on the ground floor where Lestrade was pulling on a coverall similar to the one Anderson had been wearing. Sherlock pointed to a pile of similar items as I pulled a hair tie out of my jacket pocket. I twisted my hair up into a messy bun to keep it up and out of the way while I worked. I was, if anything, professional when I was consulting. The time for messing around was over now. Use your eyes, observe everything. Even the smallest details could be critical in a case like this. A button I found at a crime scene once had been the identifying evidence in a murder case I worked on.

"You need to wear one of these," Sherlock told John as I slipped a few bobby pins into my hair to keep up a few stray pieces. Sherlock was watching my struggle with my hair and I snorted in his general direction.

"Who's this?" Lestrade asked me as he pointed over at John. I rolled my eyes at Lestrade, was that the question of the day?

"He's with me," Sherlock answered him as he started to pull off his black leather gloves.

"But who is he?" Lestrade prompted again as I leaned over him and picked up a pair of latex gloves.

"He's with us Greg. Don't worry about it. I'll keep an eye on him," I told the man, patting him on the shoulder in a manner resembling comforting. In the meantime John took his jacket off and picked up one of the coveralls. He looked at Sherlock who was picking up a pair of gloves like I had before looking back at me as I was pulling my own gloves on.

"Aren't you two gonna put one on?" He asked us in reference to the coveralls. Sherlock looked at him sternly and John shook his head as if to say, 'Silly me. What was I thinking?!' I giggled at his expression which earned me an eye roll from Sherlock.

"John, that look just doesn't work on me. Now on you it looks smashing," I told him as I pulled on my gloves. I pulled them out letting them loudly snap back into place. I smiled at the irritated look this earned me from Sherlock and the exasperated expression I received from Lestrade. Oh come on, someone had to lighten up the mood. This crime scene was far too depressing.

"So where are we?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as he ignored my antics. I stuck my tongue out at him before I linked my glove clad hands behind my back.

"Upstairs," Lestrade told us he picked up his own pair of gloves. He led us up a circular staircase as Sherlock put on his latex gloves. "I can give you two minutes," He told us as he looked at me pointedly. I snorted at him. It was like he was expecting me to cause trouble. I was slight offended, I was a saint.

"May need longer," Sherlock told him casually. Yeah, like he would need that long. If he was anything like me it wouldn't take long at all to figure out what had happened. See, observing and making deductions didn't take long if you knew what you should be looking for. The reason the police missed everything was because they saw, but didn't observe. They also had no clue at all what to be looking for. That was to be expected though, they're minds were so vacant half the time.

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her," Lestrade told us as he led us into a room that was two stories above the ground floor.

The room was empty of furniture except for a rocking horse which was in the far corner. Emergency portable lighting had been set up around the room. I noted that there were some scaffolding poles holding up part of the ceiling near where a couple of large holes had been knocked through one of the walls. A woman's body was lying face down on the bare floorboards in the middle of the room. She was wearing a bright pink overcoat and high-heeled pink shoes. Her hands were lying flat on the floor on either side of her head. Sherlock and I walked a few steps into the room before we both stopped and focused our attention on the corpse in front of us.

The four of us stood there silently for several long seconds before Sherlock suddenly looked across the room to Lestrade. "Shut up," He told him rudely. I raised an eyebrow at him, but made no conjecture other than that at his behavior.

"I didn't say anything," Lestrade told him sounding startled. I snorted at Sherlock's attitude, but didn't remark upon it as I brushed past him and went to crouch in front of the body. It was time for me to get to work. I pulled out a pair of glasses from the inside of my coat and put them on, pushing them up the bridge of my nose. They were tortoise shell around the glass, but the sides of the frame were rose pink. Once my brainy specs, which I really just needed for up close studies, were on I got to deducing.

"You were thinking. It's annoying," Sherlock told him before he stepped forward and stood behind me as he looked down at the corpse. I made my observations ignoring Sherlock completely. I wasn't sure if he wanted to work together or just make our own deductions about the victim. Option one didn't look like it was going to happen due to the fact that Sherlock didn't seem to play well with others.

The first thing I noticed when I started looking at the body was that the word "Rache" had been scratched into the floorboards by the woman's left hand. My eyes trailed over to the woman's hands inspecting them more closely. Her fingernail on her index and middle finger were broken and ragged at the ends and her nail polish chipped. The rest of her fingernails were still in immaculate condition though. Her index finger was resting at the bottom of the 'e' so I assumed that she had still been trying to carve into the floor when she died. She had used her left hand to scratch the word into the floor boards. I could make an easy deduction from that, she was left handed.

Now the word she had carved was Rache. Rache in German meant revenge. No, that wasn't it. The woman didn't have the physical characteristics associated with those who were German. So, what other words could it have been? A name was the most likely decision. In my mind I ran through a list of letters in quick succession as I tried to find the next one in the sequence. L! Rachel that fit perfectly. It was at this time that Sherlock crouched down beside me breaking my train of thought. He ran his gloved hand over along the back of the victim's coat, then lifted his hand again to look at his fingers. He showed them to me and I noticed the shine of water on his gloves. The back of her coat was wet, she had been out in the rain recently.

I reached forward and dug around in the woman's coat pockets before I found what I was looking for. Any smart woman would carry one thing on her if she knew it was going to rain. I pulled a white folding umbrella out of the woman's pocket and ran my fingers along the folds of the material. I held up my hand and inspected my glove before showing it to Sherlock. Her umbrella was dry. So the wind had been too strong to use her umbrella. I put it back into her pocket as Sherlock moved up to the collar of the woman's coat and ran his fingers underneath it. He held his fingers up for inspection between the two of us. Wet, so she had turned her collar up against the rain.

I was surprised that Sherlock was actually working with me. I had thought I was going to have to fight him tooth and nail before he reigned in his ego at being the world's only consulting detective enough to let me make my own deductions. In our current positions we were shoulder to shoulder. I didn't actually mind it. I felt a sort of kindred ship for the man. He knew the struggles of addiction like I did. He also knew what it was like to be called names like freak because people couldn't accept the deductions you made. While Sherlock didn't seem to openly care about Anderson and Donovan's treatment of him, I could see that it actually did affect him. While everyone made it sound like he was inhuman, he was as human as it got. I had learnt to deal with Anderson and Donovan over time. Lestrade knew of my deep dislike of the pair. He generally kept them as far away from me as possible, especially after some of the last few cases I had worked on with Scotland Yard.

I was pulled out of my own inner musings once again by Sherlock. He held his hand out just under my nose holding a small magnifier. I took that to mean he was offering it to me and I took it from him and clicked it open before using it to closely examine the woman's delicate looking gold bracelet on her left wrist. It had been cleaned and recently. The gold earring on her left ear and the gold chain around her neck had likewise been treated with the same care. The rings on her left ring finger told an entirely different sort of story. Her wedding wing and her engagement ring were both dirty.

She was married and judging from the state of her rings unhappily so. Her rings were at least ten or so years old so unhappily married for a rather long time. I wordlessly handed Sherlock back his magnifier before reaching forward and carefully working the woman's wedding ring off of her finger. I held the ring up into the light and inspected the inside of the band. It was clean. I showed the ring to Sherlock who silently nodded at me as the only indication that he was on the same page as I was. I slid the ring back onto the woman's finger as I reached a final conclusion about the ring. It was regularly removed. Now a woman in a rather unhappy marriage who regularly removed her ring indicated that she was probably an adulterer. One man wouldn't do though, not for this woman. No, she was a serial adulterer. She had a small case with her too, she was only staying overnight before she would be returning home. She was careful, probably told her husband she was going somewhere for work. I placed her as being a journalist given the state of her nails and the alarming shade of pink she seemed partial to. I smiled slightly in satisfaction before looking back at Sherlock. His expression was similar to mine. We shared a look of amusement for a brief second before masking our emotions with a look that only portrayed boredom.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked us having noticed our pause in examining the corpse of the latest victim.

"Not much," Sherlock said nonchalantly as we stood and we both took our gloves off in perfect synchronization. "Practically nothing," I added as Sherlock took out his mobile phone from his pocket and started typing.

I looked up when I heard a noise in the door way. It turned out to be Anderson who was leaning casually against the doorframe. "She's German. 'Rache': it's German for 'revenge'. She could be trying to tell us something …," Anderson began as I strode over to the door quickly and began to close it in his face. I had had enough of the man already for one day thank you very much.

"Yes, thank you for your input Anderson. You're intelligence always amazes me," I told the man sarcastically with a cheerful smile on my face before I slammed the door shut in his face. I nodded at the door as if to say 'And stay out!' before I walked back over to Sherlock's side. John and Lestrade were both looking at me with identical expressions of shock at my rude behavior on their faces. Sherlock on the other hand was failing miserably at trying to hide his smirk. I made a mental note of how he had tracked my movements back over to him with a watchful eye. I watched over his shoulder as he called up a menu for "UK Weather" on his mobile and began to scroll the five options that the menu offered him. He selected the map option and started to put in parameters for a search of the recent weather.

"So she's German?" Lestrade asked us slowly, hesitating in his answer. I skipped over to his side and bumped my arm with his grinning.

"Nope," I told him popping the 'p' sound at the end of the word. "She's not German. She is from out of town though. She was only intending to stay in London for one night…," I told Lestrade before looking back at Sherlock who was smiling smugly as he apparently found the information he had been looking for.

"…before returning home to Cardiff," Sherlock finished for me as he pocketed his phone. "So far, so obvious," Sherlock remarked to me and I nodded at him. A small smirk graced both of our lips as I walked back towards the body and walked a full circle around it. I scanned our victim one last time to see if I might have missed anything. I didn't want Sherlock to show me up, especially in front of Lestrade. I had a reputation to up hold.

"Sorry…obvious?" John asked us sounding completely baffled. I giggled, a sound that made Lestrade visibly shutter. I snorted at him, I wasn't that bad. He did have ample reason to worry though, he knew my tack record from our previous escapades.

"What about the message, though?" Lestrade asked me clearly trying to distract me. As if he ever could, I wasn't easily distracted especially when I was working on a case. This one was proving to be especially interesting.

"Doctor Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked John, completely ignoring Lestrade. I clasped my hands behind my back and walked slowly over to Sherlock's side. I smiled back at John as I slowly rocked on the balls of my feet. This was the most fun I had had in weeks. It did help that I was working with the enigma that was Sherlock Holmes. One second he seemed like he was annoyed with my very presence and the next he was the one who initiated working with me. I wasn't complaining though. His willingness to actually work with me meant that I didn't have to fight him on the subject. I was slightly suspicious as to his motives though.

"Of the message?" John asked us quizzically and I giggled again amused. I caught Sherlock studying me, but ignored him. I would let him make his own opinion of me. Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other after all.

"No, John, of the body. What do you think about it? You're a medical man," I answered him my head cocked to the right as I studied him for any sort of reaction. Would he take the bait or would he resist. This was after all the reason we had brought him with us.

"Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside," Lestrade protested and I cornered him with a stare of contained amusement that he often told me was my, 'Stop being an idiot,' look.

"They won't work with me and I rather doubt they will work with Sherlock either. Anderson's love for me only goes so far. I don't think he ever forgave me after that last case I worked on for you and I have yet to forgive him," I pointed out to Lestrade with a dramatic sigh as if I needed Anderson's approval. I despised the man with a passion and the feeling was mutual.

"Yeah, well you gave him a bloody good reason not to like you Lexi. He almost pressed charges," Lestrade fired back and I snorted in amusement. I had gotten out of that one with only a minor scolding, mostly because I was really in no condition to be worked up. The look on Anderson's face when I punched him had actually been worth the reprimand and refractoring my knuckles.

"I only broke his nose, Greg. Don't over exaggerate. Besides need I remind you that he deserved far worse than a broken nose for what he did," I told the man with just a tad bit of venom in my voice. I would never forgive Anderson for what he had done. John and Sherlock had been watching or banter, but at my words they both looked…well shocked by my admission. Sherlock looked amused by the fact I had punched Anderson, but I saw that look in his eyes that said he was trying to deduce the reason behind it. John on the other hand looked concerned, reading more into what I was saying.

"Christ Lexi, I'm not going to argue with you. I'm breaking every rule letting you two in here as it is," Lestrade sighed as he ran a hand down his face. I sighed heavily. I felt sort of bad for the man. He always put up with me no matter how hard a time I gave him. It hadn't been easy for him when I stopped taking cases. He knew why I stopped working, but I had kind of left him hanging. Four years seemed like a long time, but I still hadn't fully gotten over the events of my last case.

"Yes ... because you need me," Sherlock told him speaking for the first time in a few minutes. "And I'm doing you a favor because you wanted me here," I added. Lestrade stared at us for a moment before lowering his eyes helplessly.

"Yes, I do. God help me," He muttered in defeat. That was all the permission I needed. Lestrade was desperate for help which was good news for me because that often meant I got free reign. This was going to be quiet fun.

"Doctor Watson," Sherlock asked John gesturing to the body and asking for him to give his medical opinion once more. I looked back at Sherlock and we shared a private look of triumph knowing that John wouldn't be able to resist and Lestrade wasn't going to stop him.

"Hm?" John asked us as he looked up from the body to Sherlock and me and then turning his head towards Lestrade, silently seeking his permission. There was that army side of him coming out again.

"Oh, do as they say. Help yourself," Lestrade told John a little tetchily before he turned and opened the door, stepping outside. "Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes," He told Anderson who, knowing the man, had probably been fuming in the hall waiting for me to come out of the room so he could retaliate for my having slammed the door in his face. Well, he could shunt off for all I cared, he was lucky that was all I did. I wasn't kidding when I said he deserved far worse than just a broken nose.

Sherlock, John and I walked over to the body and I squatted down next to Sherlock as he lowered himself down on one side of it. John painfully lowered himself to one knee on the other side, leaning heavily on his cane to support himself. I felt a pang of sympathy for the man. I hadn't known him for long, but I already felt something a kin to friendship for the man. It was rare that I ever found someone I like right away. It normally took me a while before I made the decision that I could stand someone's company. I would have to do an experiment to see if this was just an isolated case or not. As for Sherlock, I wasn't sure if I liked him yet or if he just intrigued me. I needed to collect more data before I could make my final decision about him.

"Well?" Sherlock asked John sounding mildly impatient. I nudged him in the side and when he looked at me in annoyance I raised an eyebrow at him. He furrowed his eyebrows before setting his jaw and looking away from me. If we did end up becoming flat mates it would be interesting to see who would kill who first. It seemed like we both had the same need to be right and in control of the situation.

"What am I doing here?" John asked the both of us softly. While he posed the question to the two of us he focused more heavily on me. I did seem like the likelier person to give him an actually answer.

"You're helping us make a point," I told John with a smirk knowing that that point was that his limp was actually psychosomatic. I caught Sherlock's own smirk out of the corner of my eye before he could hide it from me.

"I'm supposed to be helping you two pay the rent," John shot back and I shrugged in boredom.

"Yeah, well, this is more fun," Sherlock told him sharing my thoughts exactly. There were certain things in life that I found very trivial. Makin tea, paying rent, going shopping, those were things that fell on that list. There was just so many more interesting things to do and much better ways to spend your time.

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead," John said through gritted teeth. He was clearly upset with us now. I frowned in confusion, we hadn't said anything that should have upset him.

"That's a perfectly sound analysis John, brilliant in fact. The woman obviously is dead. Ten out of ten for observation. We were hoping you'd go a little deeper though," I told John as Lestrade walked back into the room and stood just inside the doorway. John shot me a look of disapproval but he dragged his other leg down into a kneeling position before leaning forward to inspect the woman's body more closely. He put his head close to hers and sniffed before straightening a little and lifting her right hand looking at the skin. While he was doing this I got up from my squatted position next to Sherlock and made my way over to Lestrade. I leaned up against the door way next to him knowing he wanted to talk with me.

"Just spit it out Greg," I told the man cutting to the chase as I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked at him. I knew what he was dying to ask me and I knew he wasn't going to really like any answer I gave him. I thought it best to just get over with it quickly before moving on back to the case at hand. He wasn't the only person I was going to have to deal with.

"How did you meet Holmes?" Lestrade asked me quietly gesturing back to Sherlock. While Sherlock was watching John examine the body, I knew he was probably listening to Greg and me.

"A mutual friend introduced us yesterday," I told Lestrade honestly. He looked at me surprised as he seemed to not know what to say to that.

"You only met yesterday? Why were you at his flat then?" Lestrade asked me using his police voice, the one he typically reserved only for me. Lestrade was rather protective of me, reminding me of someone else I knew. While he seemed to trust Sherlock, he was regarding the man like any other guy that came into my life. Lestrade was like an older brother to me and he often treated me like a younger sister. That meant that he regarded any man that came close to me as an enemy before he got to know them better. It was actually rather amusing, but I also found it rather sweet that he cared that much about me. His protectiveness had increased after I left the Yard.

I hummed out an agreement. "We're contemplating becoming flat mates, John, Sherlock, and I," I told Lestrade with a shrug. He narrowed his eyes at my nonchalance. "Don't," I told him as I watched him bristle at the idea of me living with two men. "You're not the only one that keeps an eye on me. If either of them was going to be a problem they would have already been deported by now."

"Lexi, I've know you for years and I trust your judgment, but are you seriously going to move in with them. I know Sherlock, he isn't an easy man to get along with. And this Doctor Watson, I don't know anything about him but…," Lestrade asked me before I held up a hand to stop him. I held his gaze with a firm expression like I only had to do on a few occasions.

"I'm not so easy to get along with either Greg. I don't know," I said thoughtfully as I cocked my head to the side and tapped my chin quizzically before beaming and looking back at Greg. "I like them and if they ever turn out to be murdering psychopaths, I'll call you. Besides," I added, my voice growing serious. "I think I should get to choose for myself who I decided to be around. I know you want to protect me Greg, but you can't protect me from everything. It's been four years, I need to start to get my life back together at some point," I told Lestrade patting him on the shoulder before skipping back off over to John and Sherlock. Lestrade watched me go shaking his head at me completely baffling mood today.

"Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure; possibly drugs," John was saying as I stopped by his side and looked down at the body. One uncomfortable conversation out of the way. I had a feeling that the second was going to be a lot worse. I sighed, I would take care of that later.

"You know what it was. You've read the papers," Sherlock told him as I crossed my arms and put one hand on my chin, popping my hip to the right as I stared down at the body. I couldn't help but feel like we were missing something, something obvious.

"What, she's one of the suicides? The fourth...?" John asked us as he looked up at me and then back at Sherlock. I scanned the room slowly again. What were we missing?

"Sherlock, Lexi…two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got," Lestrade interrupted us and I lowered my arms to my sides again as Sherlock got to his feet. John was having a harder time of getting back up off of the floor so I reached a hand out to him. He looked at it hesitantly for a second. Pride was telling him not to take the offered help, but he relented after a second knowing it was only practical. I pulled him to his feet quickly with a pull. The look on his face after he regained his footing told me that he hadn't expected me to be that strong. I didn't look it, but I was stronger than people assumed. I might not have been taking cases any more, but I had kept up with the level of fitness I had before when I was running all over London.

"Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes; I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her suitcase," Sherlock shared his deductions with Lestrade. It seemed like we had come to the same conclusions. I never once doubted my own abilities, but it was nice to know that I had made the same deductions as Sherlock.

"Suitcase?" Lestrade asked him confused as he and John both looked around the room as if expecting to see the suitcase Sherlock was talking about. That was what I had thought had been missing. Her suitcase wasn't in the room. A woman like her would have kept it close by her, but it wasn't in the room. Maybe Anderson had already taken it as evidence. I sighed, the only way we were going to see the case was if we talked with Anderson. I really didn't want to be in the same room as him longer than necessary. My self-control only extended so far.

"Yes Greg, her suitcase. She's been married for at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married," I explained to Lestrade as I walked around the body and stood by Sherlock's side.

"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up ...," Lestrade began before he caught my expression. I put my hands on my hips and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. He remained silent and I huffed before continuing with my deductions. I was not going to let Sherlock have all the fun. One look at the man said that he understood to keep his mouth shut and that I was in no mood to be messed with at the current moment.

I pointed down at the woman's left hand, specifically at her wedding band. "Her wedding ring, its ten years old at least. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. That shows the state of her marriage right there. She's gained weight since she first got married though, probably because of her depression. Her rings fit more snugly on her finger as a result. I had to really work them off to examine them. The inside of her wedding ring is shinier than the outside that means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It took effort to remove them so she had to have a reason to want to. It's not for work, I mean look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, they're too dainty and way too well kept. So what other reasons would a woman have for wanting to remove her rings? If she was having an affair she certainly would have a reason to, keeping up appearances that she isn't a married woman. Clearly it's not just one lover though. No, she would never be able to sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so the more likely option is a string of them. Simple really," I explained to everyone as nonchalantly as if I was talking about the weather. It was rather simple. I often found things like affairs to be the easiest things to deduce about people. People thought they could hide those sorts of secrets so well, but if you knew what to look for it was so obvious that it made you wonder how people could get away with them for so long.

"That's brilliant," John said breaking the silence. His tone sounded almost…admiring. I looked at him in shock. No one had ever complimented me on my work before. Yes, Mike seemed to get a kick out of it when I deduced someone, but he saw it more like a party trick. "Sorry," John told me apologetically having seemed to misunderstand the look I was giving him. I was still a little too shocked to say anything. It was… nice to be appreciated for once, to not be called a freak.

"Cardiff?" Lestrade asked Sherlock breaking me out of my shock. He looked rather impressed with me too, but then again he had always been impressed with me before. I could now understand why he had given me such odd looks when I first started consulting for the Yard. It was because Sherlock had worked with him before me. I was slightly jealous that he had gotten to work with Greg before I had, but I couldn't do anything to change that. I hadn't just worked with Greg though, there were others at the Yard that I would help as I saw fit. I was ever on the lookout for an interesting case to solve.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked them sounding bored. I made a gesture for him to take over the explanations again. I knew he was bursting to share his deductions and he wasn't used to having to share. While I liked showing off as much as he probably did, I didn't feel like pushing his buttons too much…yet. I would have plenty of time to show off later, especially if I became flat mates with him.

"It's not obvious to me," John told us and I shook my head at the man. People saw, but never observed. It was slightly amusing.

Sherlock paused and looked at the other two, knowing better than to even include me in what he was about to say. "Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring," He told Lestrade and John before turning back to the body.

"I agree with you. Honestly Greg, I would have thought that you would have picked up on at least a few things working with me," I remarked ruefully as I joined Sherlock and watched him. He was bursting to give his deductions. It was rather comical watching him. I rolled my eyes and ushered on the all too willing man.

"Her coat: it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it's dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind…too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" He deduced as he got his phone from his pocket and showed Lestrade and John the webpage he was looking at earlier, displaying today's weather for the southern part of Britain.

"Cardiff," I finished for him with a wide grin having already seen the webpage earlier when he first looked up the weather. Sherlock smirked back at me as we both preened at our own genius. It was nice to work with someone who understood what you were talking about for once.

"That's fantastic!" John remarked in admiration once again. I smiled at the man and bowed dramatically which made Lestrade grin. I grinned back at the Lestrade and winked at him cheekily.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock asked John lowly as he turned to look at him with a studying eye.

"Sorry. I'll shut up," John said quickly shuffling a little bit. I pouted at John for his own insecurities. Where was the military man now who could give orders?

"No, it's ... fine," Sherlock told him sounding secretly pleased like I was at the praise.

"I need someone like you John, it's nice to have someone tell me how brilliant I am. I never get tired of hearing it," I told John with a laugh which set him a little more at ease.

"Yeah, if he starts doing that your ego is going to get bigger than it already is," Lestrade told me and I pouted at him and stuck out my tongue.

"I'm hurt Greg, really hurt. My ego is the perfect size I'll have you know," I retorted, catching the smile that John was trying to hide. I winked at him which made him hide a laugh with a cough. I narrowed my eyes at that, oh Watson.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked us changing the subject and bringing it back to the case at hand. In other words, he was reeling me back in before I could really get going. He was such a buzz kill sometimes. I sighed inwardly, I was just getting started too.

"Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is," Sherlock said as he spun around the room in a circle looking for the case I had been looking for earlier. Good, he noticed that it was missing too.

"She was writing 'Rachel'?" Lestrade asked us sounding confused. I sighed heavily, did we have to explain everything? That was obvious.

"No, she was leaving an angry note in German!" I scoffed as I rolled my eyes at Lestrade. " Seriously Greg, of course she was writing Rachel. There are no other words with that letter combination that it can be. The question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?" I asked as I turned to look at Sherlock. He raised in eyebrow in thought over the question I had posed. What was the significance behind writing Rachel? It had to mean something important given she was the first of the people who had committed "suicide" to have left a note.

"How d'you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asked us ignoring my attitude for now. He knew that it was only a matter of time before my mood took a turn for the worse. I had been in a relatively good mood all day, but that was starting to slowly slip.

Sherlock pointed down to the body, where the woman's tights had small black splotches on the lower part of her right leg. "Back of the right leg, tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes conscious, could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night," He said as he squatted down by the woman's body and examined the backs of her legs more closely. "Now, where is it? What have you done with it?" He asked Lestrade demandingly.

"There wasn't a case," Lestrade told us shaking his head. I frowned at that as Sherlock slowly got to his feet and frowned at Lestrade too.

"Say that again," I asked Lestrade wanting to make sure that I had heard him right. There had to be a case. There was evidence that she had a case on her at some point. It had to be somewhere.

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase," Lestrade told me. Sherlock and I looked at each other for a second before we both headed for the door side by side. We hurried down the stairs as Sherlock started to call out to all of the police officers in the house.

"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" He asked demandingly as Lestrade and John followed us out and stopped on the landing above us.

"Sherlock, there was no case!" Lestrade called down to us.

Sherlock and I slowed down, but we still continued to make our way down the stairs. "But they take the poison themselves; they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them," Sherlock called back up to Lestrade sounding very frustrated that no one was seeing the obvious. It was actually very obvious.

"Right, yeah, thanks! And...?" Lestrade asked him. I was starting to get frustrated myself. I tried to have more patience, but how could they have seriously missed something as obvious as this?

"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how, but they're not suicides, they're killings… serial killings," Sherlock answered him, holding his hands up in front of his face in delight. "We've got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There's always something to look forward to," Sherlock remarked to me as we grinned at each other in shared excitement. There was no way I was walking away from this case now, not when it was getting so interesting.

"Why are you saying that?" Lestrade asked him and I sighed in frustration and threw my hands up in the air. Sherlock and I both stopped in the stairs to look at the others and at Lestrade in exasperation.

"Her case! Come on Greg, think! Use the brain I know you have. Where is her case? Did she eat it? I highly doubt that she did. Someone else was here and they took her case," I called back up to Lestrade before turning to Sherlock having realized something. "So the killer must have driven her here and forgotten the case was in the car," I shared with Sherlock and his eyes widened as he realized what I had.

"She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there," John offered and I shook my head up at him.

"No, she never got to the hotel," Sherlock told him as he looked back up the stairs. "Look at her hair. She colour coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking...," Sherlock explained before he stopped talking as he made a realization. "Oh," He said, his eyes widening as his face lit up. I looked at him confused for a second before the dawning realization hit me as well. Oh that was brilliant.

"Oh!" I remarked catching on as Sherlock clapped his hands in delight. Sherlock grabbed me by the shoulders and I was completely shocked when he pulled me forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It wasn't a sentimental gesture. I knew he was just getting caught up in the excitement. I huffed at him and rubbed my forehead. That was going to be the last time that ever happened.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked us as Lestrade leaned over the railings to look down at us.

"What is it, what?" Lestrade asked us quickly as he tried to find out why we both seemed so excited. He looked amused that I was still rubbing my forehead where Sherlock had kissed me and I looked up the stairs at him and narrowed my eyes. His amused look left his face really quickly after that.

"Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake," Sherlock said smiling cheerfully to himself. Glad he was so happy. I grumbled under my breath in my irritation over the man with more mood swings than a PMSing woman.

"We can't just wait!" Lestrade called down the stairs sounding exasperated. Good, he knew the feeling.

"Oh, we're done waiting!" Sherlock told him as we both started to hurry down the stairs again. "Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff, find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock yelled back up to him as we reached the bottom of the stairs and started to head for the door.

"Of course, yeah…but what mistake?!" Lestrade called after us. Sherlock and I stopped walking and looked at each other, rolling our eyes in unison before walking back over to the bottom of the stairs so Lestrade could see us again.

"PINK!" We yelled up to Lestrade in unison before we hurried off again. I hurried outside with the consulting detective. Ugh, Sally was still outside.

"Where are you freaks going?" Sally called to us as we walked back to the crime scene tape. We ignored Donovan, her comment wasn't even worth responding to. I was surprised when Sherlock lifted the crime scene tape for me and waited for me to cross under it before him. I smiled at him ruefully before darting under the tape. He stared back at me with that blank expression. Well, I was going to have to do something about that.

We headed off down the road and I was about to ask Sherlock where he wanted to start looking for the case when my phone buzzed in my pocket. He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow of curiosity as I sighed heavily in frustration and pulled my phone out.

"_**There is a car waiting for you around the corner, get in." **_I groaned, there would be no arguing with him. I didn't feel like explaining why there were men in suits carting me off either. I shoved my phone back in my pocket grumbling to myself. Things were just getting good too.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked me sounding rather amused and I focused on him with a glare that said, 'Don't even go there.'

"Relatively, it appears I am needed elsewhere. Ugh, why do people have to love me so much?" I asked Sherlock grumbling at the fact that I was getting pulled away from the case. "Text me when you find the case," I called to Sherlock over my shoulder as I tore off in down the street heading for the corner. I ran around the left corner not even bothering to wait for Sherlock's response. He would find the case eventually even without my help. I had bigger problems right now. I was attached to another object by an inclined plane, wrapped helically around an axis. In other words, I was screwed.

The sleek, black car was waiting for me around the corner like promised. As soon as I made it into view the driver stepped out of the car and held the back door open for me. "Hi, Allen," I greeted the man with a nervous laugh. He smiled firmly at me in response before I slid into the back seat of the car. I was in a lot of trouble. That was rather obvious given who was waiting for me in the car.

"Mycroft," I greeted the posh man with a sheepish smile. Yeah, act like you have no idea what is going on. Maybe he'll by it. Mycroft Holmes was an old friend of mine. When I say friend, I mean he was more like my brother than anything else. Mycroft had met me when I was going through a rather rough patch in my life. He was there for me when no one else was even if he did have alter motives behind why he was. Over time he started seeing me like a sister. I was rather fond of him no matter how hard I rebelled against him.

"Lexi," Mycroft greeted me sounding calm. I groaned, whenever he was being calm meant he was either disappointed in me or angry. I went with angry this time around. Mycroft constantly checked in on me to see where I was going and what I was doing. I knew he worried about me. That was painfully obvious. He claimed he only checked in on me because I caused trouble that meant paperwork for him, but I knew that the real reason behind it was because of my little accident a while back. Not like he would ever make out that he really did worry about me, Mycroft wasn't one to be overly sentimental. His favorite line was, "Caring is not an advantage."

"Sorry, I know I was ignoring you, but I was on a case! I was working, Croft!" I pouted as I tried to explain to the man that I was justified in not responding to his texts. He just frowned at me in response and I sighed heavily. "I know you worry about me when I don't text you back, but it's not like you don't know where I am at every waking moment," I pointed out and the man sighed heavily. He knew I had them there. While Mycroft claimed that he only held a minor position in the British government, he was in reality the bloody British government. He had his CCTVs watching my movements throughout the city on any given day. I would have thought he was a creepy stalker if I didn't know he only did it because he cared about me.

"That is not the point Lexi," Mycroft chastised me. I knew he was right. Ugh, he could be so annoying at times. "So, enjoying the company of Dr. Watson and my brother?" Mycroft asked me dropping the subject for now and picking up an even worse one.

"Yup," I said popping the 'p' at the end of the word with a grin. "You know when you said you had a brother I never quiet imagined someone like Sherlock. I can totally see it though. Is that why you love me? Cause I know you love me," I told Mycroft dramatically as I got comfy on the expensive leather interior. This was actually better than dumpster diving for evidence. No matter how hard he was trying to not show any emotion, I caught the slight quirk on the side of his lips. I was the only one that could get a smile out of Mycroft Holmes, a triumph that I was completely proud of. I was good and when I say I'm good I mean that I am freaking fabulous. Then again I am always fabulous, not everyone could see that though which is their loss completely.

"Sherlock and I do not have the best of relationships," Mycroft told me with another heavy sigh. "We do not always see eye to eye. He thinks of me as his enemy. He always did upset Mummy." I frowned at his mention of his mother. I actually liked Mummy Holmes. I couldn't understand why Mycroft always complained about her.

"I sort of like him. He's all brooding and "I'm cleverer than everyone else", but he shares my enthusiasm over the cases. If anything at least it is amusing to annoy him," I said while still frowning. I did like Sherlock and not just because it would annoy Mycroft to no end if I decided to move in with him and get back into solving cases. Mycroft would be pleased about me getting back to work. He respected my change in careers even if he never approved of it. I knew he secretly thought I was wasting my time and talents on something beneath me. I missed working on cases, the thrill of solving a puzzle. I had never even finished anything I started writing. I made money by selling a few articles and by doing small jobs for Mycroft, but I needed to stop playing games and get back to work.

"I was afraid that you would say that," Mycroft said actually sounding a bit terrified. "Please refrain from causing too much trouble. It is already hard enough as it is keeping Sherlock and you from burning down London on your own," Mycroft continued sounding rather bored as he tried to mask his true terror.

"If I feel the urge I'll text you. Just FYI, burning down London is not on the top of my to do list right now, so I think you're good for a while. So… I'm guessing we're headed some where you can scare John a little bit before you decide if you think I should hang around him," I remarked causally as the driver started down a road that would lead us to an abandoned warehouse that I knew only too well.

"Yes, I've already had Anthea pick him up in a car," Mycroft informed me as he picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on the arm of his suit. What was it was Holmes' and their suits?

I groaned and held my face in my hands before looking up at Mycroft dejectedly. "You're going to scare him off. I was just starting to like him too," I accused Mycroft who only gave me his typical stare.

"We shall see," He told me as the driver stopped the car at the back of the warehouse. The driver got out and opened the door for Mycroft who slid from the car with a practiced grace that I expected from him now

He carried his bloody umbrella with him. It looked ridiculous when he used it. At least Sherlock wore his scarf and coat, Mycroft just looked like a weirdo carrying around an umbrella. He also looked like a creepy murderous stalker right now, but I wasn't going to mention that to him. I grumbled to myself as I nestled myself down into the leather interior of the car. Between Mycroft's over the top and seriously creepy kidnapping of anyone that so much as talked to me and Sherlock's winning personality I was starting to get a headache. I still had a case to get back to when I had finished here with Mycroft. It was going to be a long night and the game had only just begun.


	5. An Interview With The British Government

(A/N) In which we get to see what John makes of getting thrown into the case and well, he meets Mycroft. Now, I normally won't be posting on Wednesdays so this is a one time thing. All other postings will be on their regularly set time of either Saturday or Sunday. I am only posting today because today in 1927 the last Sherlock Holmes' story, The Adventure of Shoscombe Old Place, was published. So today I say, **_I Believe in Sherlock Holmes. _**

If any of you want more updates from Lexi and the Baker Street Boys go to my Author page which has links to Facebook Accounts for the gang. Go on and ask the gang your questions and see what they're up to. Instead of doing one shots for this story, I am posting things pretty much everyday on their walls. So friend them, send them messages, and get responses. You can ask Sherlock anything really or Lexi.

Now for some shameless lyrics that popped into my head while writing the chapter:

Sing us a song your the umbrella man!

Do You Wanna Solve A Murder?

Sherlock:  
>John?<br>(Knocking: Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock)  
>Do you wanna solve a murder?<p>

We'll run around the town,

Come on now the game is on,

Where are you going John?

Why won't you turn around?

You used to be my blogger.  
>And now you're not<br>I wish you would tell me why!-  
>Do you wanna solve a murder?<br>It doesn't have to be a murder.

John:  
>Go away, Sherlock<p>

Sherlock:  
>But I'm bored…<p>

(Knocking)  
>Do you wanna solve a murder?<br>Come on John, I'm sorry that I lied,  
>And that I let you think that I went and died!<p>

(Not dead)

It's getting kind of lonely, just my skull and I  
>Watching the bloodstains dry….<p>

(Shoots wall)

Sherlock:  
>(Knocking)<br>John?  
>Please, I know you're in there,<br>I swear I won't do it to you again  
>They say "He'll never forgive you,"<p>

but I need you to, 'cos you're my only friend.  
>I guess that I have lost you,<br>you don't need me now  
>Oh John, but I still need you,<p>

Do you wanna solve a murder?

John:

I forgive you Sherlock.

_**Okay, enough of that: Song that inspired the chapter, my man Mycroft's theme song, Killer Queen by Queen. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

**"Women are naturally secretive, and they like to do their own secreting." **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle,<em>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes <em>**

**John's POV**

Lestrade turned to John looking baffled as if he wasn't expecting them to just run off before he turned back into the room where the victim's body was still lying on the floor. Anderson, who John had begun to see why Sherlock and Lexi both seemed to dislike him, had been waiting with his forensic team on the next landing down. As soon as Lexi and Sherlock were out of sight and it was apparent that they would not be coming back any time soon, Anderson hurried up the stairs and followed Lestrade into the room.

"Let's get on with it," Anderson said as everyone seemed to forget about John now that Lexi and Sherlock had taken off to God only knows where. Where had they gone? What could they possibly have figured out? Pink was a very vague answer.

John hesitated on the landing for a moment before he slowly started making his way down the stairs. A couple more police officers hurried up and one of them bumped against him, throwing him off-balance and making him lurch heavily against the bannisters. The man hurried on without a word, although his colleague did at least look apologetically at John as he passed him. Grumbling to himself, John regained his balance before starting back down the stairs. It was like he was invisible. What was he even doing here? They said they needed him to prove a point, but John couldn't figure out exactly what point that was. He had hardly done anything before they had both run off. Of course what they had done had been bloody brilliant. John knew Sherlock was good, that was apparent with how much he was showing off, but Lexi had surprised him. She was just as good as Sherlock if not better. Part of her charm might be that she wasn't so rude or smug about her "deductions" as they called them as Sherlock was. Even without that John could tell that she was smart, really smart. In fact he might go as far to say that she was a genius. Something was nagging at him though in the corner of his mind. If she liked the work so much, why did she leave? She said she didn't take cases anymore, whatever that meant, but here she was working again.

John could tell there was a lot of animosity between Sargent Donovan, Anderson, and Lexi. They seemed to dislike Sherlock too, but the hate ran deeper in Lexi than in Sherlock. What could cause a girl that seemed so sweet and caring to have such strong dislike for a person? Sure, Lexi was odd, but she was alright or at least John thought so. She certainly kept you on your toes as Mike had told him, but she was nice. Beautiful too if John was being honest. John still wasn't sure about being flat mates with them though. He had no doubts that he and Lexi would get on well enough, but Sherlock was a different story. The man was just, well he was an arrogant sod. Somehow Lexi was managing to get along with him, but then again they both were the geniuses in the room. Still, things turned out better than they had. John was ready for them to start biting each other's heads off with the way they were acting before, but then they suddenly started working together. It was slightly disconcerting.

When John finally made it back down the stairs he removed his coverall and put his jacket back on, before walking out onto the street. He looked all around, but he couldn't see any sign of Sherlock or Lexi. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. Of course they had left without them. It wasn't like they needed him after all. What could two geniuses need him for in the first place? It was just as well, he told himself. He didn't need to get caught up in whatever they were doing. He was supposed to be helping them pay the rent after all, not solve crimes. He just wanted a quiet life with a few comforts. He at least deserved that much right? Sighing heavily he walked towards the police tape, still looking around as if half expecting Sherlock and Lexi to appear and start causing chaos again. Sargent Donovan was standing at the tape watching him almost with a look of pity on her face.

"They're gone," Donovan told him and John snapped his head up to look at her. Could she read his mind? John was slightly unsettled by the fact that he should have noticed her sooner.

"Who, Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna?" John asked her already knowing the answer to his question but wanting clarification.

"Yeah, they just took off. They do that," Donovan told him sounding snide. It was clear to John that there was no love between Sally Donovan and the two detectives. Again John wondered what could have caused such feelings at least between the woman and Lexi. John was quiet sure that Sherlock didn't have to do much for people not to like him, but Lexi was nice, some might say overly so, to other people. The only time he had seen her angry so far was with her phone which John couldn't help but find funny. Her nose scrunched up when she was angry, it was sort of cute. Not that John was interested in her in that way, but she might turn out to be a good friend at least.

"Are they coming back?" John asked tentatively. From the look on Sally's face the answer to that question was no. Great, he was stuck at a crime scene somewhere in London and they had just left him. Where even was he?

"Didn't look like it," Donovan told him sounding slightly sympathetic which was unusual for the woman. Sally Donovan hardly cared about anyone, but she felt bad for anyone who got mixed up with Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKeena. Especially with Lexi for that matter.

"Right," John said as he looked around the area again thoughtfully, unsure what to do. "Right ... Yes," He continued as he turned to Donovan again. "Sorry, where am I?" He asked her sheepishly. He felt like an idiot. He had just gotten in a cab with them and didn't even bother to ask where they were going. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had. They had only told him a crime scene, just not where that crime scene was.

"Brixton," Donovan answered him exasperatedly. John knew what she was thinking, how could he not even know where he was? Yeah, he was thinking the same thing. Brixton, he wasn't that far from Baker Street. Should he even go back there or should he just go back to where he was staying?

"Right. Er, d'you know where I could get a cab? It's just, er ... well ...," John said as he awkwardly looked down at his walking stick. "...my leg." John felt ashamed having to say something. He didn't like the pitying looks people gave him or their attempts to help him. He didn't want the help or the pity. Lexi had seen his hand shaking, he was sure of that, but she hadn't commented on it. She also hadn't minded walking at his pace. It was subtle, but he could tell that she was aware of his "condition". Sherlock even brought up that his therapist thought his limp was psychosomatic. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the bloody limp or the pain he felt in his leg. He knew he shouldn't feel either, not from a shoulder wound, but he hated it and couldn't stop it.

"Er ..." Donovan told him as she stepped over to the tape and lifted it for him giving him that customary look of pity he despised. "...try the main road."

"Thanks," John told her as he ducked under the tap, just wanting to get away from the woman. She meant well obviously, but she was just like the rest.

"But you're not their friend," Donovan told him suddenly and John turned back towards her, at first not believing what he was hearing. "He doesn't have friends and she is completely mental. I don't even want to know how the two of them met. I can tell you though that both of them together is the worst thing that ever could have happened. So who are you?" She asked, more like demanded, of him. John didn't like where this was going and he also didn't like the way she was talking about Sherlock and Lexi. Even if Sherlock was, well…Sherlock, he couldn't be that bad. Calling Lexi mental made John cringe. He knew something had happened to her to cause her to leave, but calling her mental was a little harsh.

"I'm ... I'm nobody. I just met them," John told her truthfully a little put off by the way Donovan was describing Lexi. Sure she had run off with Sherlock too, but she seemed rather nice. She was a bit…eccentric, but not nearly in the same way as Sherlock. She was quirky, but that wasn't a bad thing. She lightened the mood at least and she didn't treat him any differently than she did Sherlock.

"Okay, bit of advice then, stay away from them if you know what's good for you," Donovan warned him sounding dead serious. What was her problem?

"Why?" John asked her sounding completely confused. What was so wrong about either of them?

"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one that put it there. And "Lexi" she's the same as him, always has been, only she's even worse," Donovan said, saying Lexi's name like it was a dirty word. "She doesn't get paid either, she likes it as much as he does. She's completely mental. Had an accident a few years back. One day she's gonna snap and nothing that friend of hers says is going to make a difference. I'd even wager she'd be the one to put the body there first. They're perfect for each other." Donovan told him snidely as she bad mouthed the both of them. John felt uncomfortable, he didn't like speaking ill of anyone. It just…didn't seem like them. Sure he didn't know them that well but Lexi was alright and even Sherlock was half ways decent if John was being honest. There was nothing wrong with being slightly different. John noticed how they had seemed all too used to being called freaks. John wondered if that was normal for them. They had said that most people told them to piss off.

"Why would they do that?" John asked her not thinking that he even wanted to know the answer. Murder just didn't seem like something they would do. They were to…smart for that. Of course it was slightly disturbing how they knew everything from a glance, but actually killing someone? They didn't seem that mental.

"Because they're psychopaths. And psychopaths get bored," Donovan told him before Lestrade called for her from the entrance to the house. Donovan shouted back to him that she was coming before walking away. She turned back to John as she walked back to the house to give him one last warning. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes and Alexandra MacKenna."

John watched her go for a moment, completely not sure what to make of the warning he had been given. He shook his head in exasperation before turning and starting to limp off down the road. To his right, the phone in a public telephone box began to ring. He stopped short and looked at it for a few seconds but then looked down at his watch. It was late, really late. About time he should be at home, not out roaming the streets of London. He shook his head before continuing off down the road. This was ridiculous, he should have never agreed to come with them to the crime scene. He vaguely registered that the phone stopped ringing. John continued on hobbling down the street in a rather bad mood. He was stuck out in the middle of nowhere and the two bloody detectives had taken off without him. John didn't exactly care about not getting asked to come along too, he would rather stay out of things. It was more the fact that they had asked him there and then just left him behind while they swanned off. Not even a word of where they were going or a heads up of what they had figured out other than pink. What the hell did that even mean? After a relatively short period of time he found himself walking down Brixton High Road.

"Taxi! Taxi..." He cried as he attempted to hail a passing taxi, but like earlier that day the taxi just kept on going. John laughed bitterly after remembering Lexi's words from earlier. Being a woman had its advantages.

In Chicken Cottage, the fast food restaurant outside which John was standing, the payphone on the wall began to ring. John turned and looked as one of the serving staff walks over to it but as the man reached for the phone, it stopped ringing. John shook his head and cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. That was the second phone to start ringing on his way over here. Now he was getting paranoid. He needed a nice warm cuppa and a bit of a lie down. He was tired, that's all, nothing more to it. He continued walking down the road unsure exactly where he was heading. He could go back to Baker Street or he could go back to the depressing place he called home for now. Even the way things were turning out, going back to Baker Street sounded like a better option. Maybe he could find out more about Sherlock back at his flat, talk to Mrs. Hudson and learn more about him. He snapped his head up when he heard a phone ringing again. He located the source of the sound which was coming from the public telephone box right next to him. Mystified by this and ready to figure out just what was going on, he pulled open the door and went inside and lifted the phone off of the hook.

"Hello?" John asked into the phone hesitantly. A man's voice answered him a second later sounding slightly sinister. Older certainly, he had that sort of accent that screamed posh and proper.

"There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?" The man asked him. John frowned, what the hell was he talking about? Security cameras?

"Who's this? Who's speaking?" John asked irritably. Was this some sort of practical joke? If it was it wasn't funny and John was not in the least bit amused.

"Do you see the camera, Doctor Watson?" Oh well that was bloody brilliant, whoever this person was they knew his name. John complied with the request and looked through the window of the phone box and located the CCTV camera which was high up on the wall of a nearby building.

"Yeah, I see it."

"Watch," The man ordered him and John watched as the camera, which had been pointing directly at the phone box, swiveled away. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" The man continued and John looked across to the second camera which was also pointed towards the phone box. He was starting to feel uneasy, whoever this man was he knew his name and he was watching him.

"Mmm-hmm," John answered him uneasily as he watched the camera immediately swivel away like the first one had. He wasn't sure where this was going but he was certain that he probably wasn't going to like it much.

"And finally, at the top of the building on your right," The man told him and as soon as John located the third camera that was watching him it turned away like the others had. John's feeling of uneasiness grew significantly. Who the bloody hell was this guy?

"How are you doing this?" John asked him using his captain's voice. That was one thing her learnt in the military, never once show that you are afraid. It made people think they had an edge on you. John Watson was not one to get scared easily. He had invaded Afghanistan after all, gotten shot at, gotten shot, and generally saw things that no one should ever have to see. This was an entirely different sort of emotion and one he couldn't exactly place.

"Get into the car, Doctor Watson," The man ordered him just as a black car pulled up at the curbside near the phone and a male driver got out of the car and opened up one of the rear doors. "I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you," The man told him sounding slightly amused before the phone went dead. John put the phone back on the hook looking thoughtfully at it for a long moment. Bugger it all, it wasn't like he could do anything. This creep had already been watching him and following him. He left the phone box walking with a trained military air as he walked over to the car and slid into the back seat.

The car pulled away from the curb as soon as he got in and drove off. John shifted uneasily in his seat. He wasn't exactly fit enough to defend himself if it came to that. He had been in some rather bad positions before, but this one took the cake. **(A/N hehe cake reference in context with Mycroft)** It was then that John noticed that there was a rather attractive young woman sitting in the car beside him. Her eyes were fixed on her BlackBerry as she typed on it. John had seen a few people completely absorbed in their phones but this woman won a new record for technological dependence. The woman was ignoring him completely, but John felt the need to at least say something to her. He was, after all, a gentleman.

"Hello."

"Hi," The woman answered him looking up from her phone for a brief second to smile at him brightly before she turned her attention back to her mobile. Her fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone faster than John could process her movements.

"What's your name, then?" John asked her hoping to find out where he was being taken or at least something about the people that had practically kidnapped him right off the curbing. John felt suddenly uneasy when he realized that no one would know where he was. If this guy ended up to be some psychopathic killer, no one would know or care what happened to him. It wasn't something he was sure he wanted to think about.

"Er ... Anthea," She answered him after a second. A trained response to the question if ever John had seen one. Who were these people, the government? That was stupid, what would the government even want with him. He was nobody.

"Is that your real name?" John prompted, if anything just to keep her talking.

"No," She answered him smiling. John nodded and twisted to look out the rear window before turning back to her again. "I'm John," He introduced himself. As soon as the words came out of his mouth he felt stupid. Of course she knew who he was, whoever she was working for had kidnapped him. Great, he thought, sound like a complete idiot.

"Yes. I know," Anthea told him with an amused smile as she continued to type away on her Blackberry. John tried to subtly see who she was texting, but couldn't read her screen. She flicked her eyes up to him before continuing on with what John had to assume must be her entire life story with the amount she was typing.

"Any point in asking where I'm going?" John asked her sounding slightly hopeful, but completely doubting that she would tell him anything.

"None at all...," She told him smiling at her briefly before looking back at her phone again. "...John," She finished after a moment as if it was an afterthought or she simply just forgot who she was talking too.

"Okay," John told her settling down into the seat and sitting in uncomfortable silence. Since he had met Sherlock and Lexi his life had been completely thrown upside down. He had been dragged to a crime scene and now he had been kidnapped. John watched out the window as the dark streets of London raced by. It didn't take too long before the car pulled into and almost-empty warehouse. John had no clue where he was, but he knew he was nowhere around where he needed to be.

John looked out of the window of the car, trying to assess the situation before he got out of the car. A man in a very expensive looking suit was standing in the center of the area, leaning nonchalantly on an umbrella as he watched the car stop. John collected his wits before he slowly got out of the car, holding onto the door for support before he got his other foot on the ground. In front of the man was a straight-backed armless chair facing him, he gestured to it with the point of his umbrella as John limped towards him leaning heavily on his cane. This wasn't going to end well for John, he already realized that.

"Have a seat, John," The man told him calmly with this air of a posh man who was used to getting what he wanted around him. John continued walking towards him unwilling to give the man any sort of satisfaction of seeing that he was slightly unnerved.

"You know, I've got a phone," John told him his voice sounding a lot calmer than he felt as he looked around the warehouse trying to find some sort of clue as to where he had been taken. "I mean, very clever and all that, but er ... you could just phone me… on my phone," He continued as he walked straight past the chair and stopped a few paces away from the man. John was over average height, but he was not going to be intimidated by the taller man. There was no way he was going to be sitting either. John's eyes flickered to the man's umbrella for a brief moment, silently assessing any object that could possibly be used as a weapon. Not that John thought he would last long in any fight with this man, he probably had an entire team of men at his disposal.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place," The man told him. His voice which had had a pleasant smile accompanying it so far became a little sterner. John felt like he was being scolded by the man as if he was a small child. John felt slightly relieved however that the man had left Lexi out of the conversation. He wasn't sure why, but he had grown fond of the woman in only a short time. She just seemed so fragile, so sweet and delicate. There was no way he wanted this man anywhere near her. "The leg must be hurting you. Sit down," The man demanded him sounding slightly more sinister than before. John gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw tightly.

"I don't wanna sit down," John told him refusing to do anything he told him to. The man looked at him curiously as if he was almost expecting this reaction.

"You don't seem very afraid," The man remarked quirking one eyebrow thoughtfully. He had a slight smirk on his face. If anything he looked more sinister when he was smiling than when he was frowning.

"You don't seem very frightening," John told him lying to himself slightly. The man was actually quite imposing. He chuckled at John's response. It was a sound that made John feel, if it was possible, even more uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"Ah, yes. The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?" The man asked him as he looked at John sternly. "What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes and Alexandra MacKenna?" John swore to himself mentally. So this guy did know Lexi.

"I don't have one. I barely know them. I met them...," John said before looking away thoughtfully. It was surprising how little time had passed since he met the pair of detectives. Since he met them nothing had made any since to him at all. "...yesterday," He finished after a second. Had he really just met them yesterday? What sort of person goes to a crime scene with two people he just met the day before?

"Mmm, and since yesterday you've moved in with them and now you're solving crimes together," The man said sounding rather amused. Well, if you put it that way it did sound really bad. "Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week? I will warn you Alexandra doesn't share well with others, neither does Sherlock for that matter," The man asked him smiling in that way that made John's skin crawl.

"Who are you?" John asked him getting fed up with all of the secrecy now. Not to mention he felt really uncomfortable with where this was going.

"An interested party," The man answered him simply. Oh yeah, thanks for that, really helpful answer John thought angrily. Who was Mary Poppins and how did he know Sherlock and Lexi?

"Interested in Sherlock? In Lexi? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends," John scoffed remembering what Donovan had told him about Sherlock and Lexi not having any friends. John rather doubted that this man was the sort of person they would spend their time with either, but he couldn't be entirely sure. He had already been warned off from them. This man certainly had to know more about them then he did.

"You've met them. How many 'friends' do you imagine they have? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having. The closest thing to family that Alexandra has," The man told him sounding thoughtful when he mentioned the girl. John didn't like it that he knew her. He felt unsettled that this man had probably kidnapped her at some point too. What exactly was Lexi's connection to him and why did he say he was the closest thing she had to family? The longer John stayed here, the more questions he had about Lexi and Sherlock. A lot of those questions were about Lexi though. Sherlock was easy enough to understand, but Lexi was confusing.

"And what's that?" John asked him sounding bemused. What was it with Sherlock and Lexi that got everyone in a tizzy? First he had Donovan warning him off from even knowing them and now he had someone questioning him on how he knew them. Who were these people? Obviously they attracted a lot of attention and not all good attention either.

"An enemy and an annoyance."

"An enemy?" John asked him not bothering to comment on the last part. It was blatantly obvious why someone might think he was an annoyance. He was already getting on John's nerves and he hadn't been talking with him that long.

"In Sherlock's mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic. Lexi on the other hand would probably tell you I am the bane of her existence if you asked her. She does love to be overly dramatic, one only has to be in her company for a few minutes to see a display of her theatrics." John couldn't disagree with that. She was a little overly theatric, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

John looked pointedly around the warehouse ready to be done with the man's interrogation. "Well, thank God you're above all that," He told the man sarcastically. The man frowned at him. Just then John's phone trilled a text alert. He looked at the man for a long second before he dug into his jacket pocket and took out his phone. He unlocked it and read his text message while ignoring the man in front of him.

_**Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. **_**SH**

"I hope I'm not distracting you," The man said pleasantly enough with an amused smirk on his face as he leaned against his bloody umbrella.

"Not distracting me at all," John answered him casually as he took his time looking up from his phone before pocketing it again.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes and Ms. MacKenna?" The man demanded as soon as he had John's attention again. There was that sinister note in his voice again. It induced the same sort of feeling in John as Donovan's warning had.

"I could be wrong ... but I think that's none of your business," John told him honestly, standing his ground. He had been in the military for heaves sake. This was just one guy with an umbrella. He also looked like the posh type. Sure he seemed more threatening with the location and the black car and the mysterious ringing phone, but that was all an intimidation act.

"It could be," The man told him a little ominously. John snorted, that sounded likt the answer of a man that always got what he wanted and looking at him, John was quiet sure he was used to it.

"It really couldn't," John told him immediately. What he did with his life was none of this man's business. If he wanted to continue his "association" with Lexi and Sherlock then that would be his own choice not someone else's. The man reached for his jacket pocket and John tensed, expecting him to come back with a loaded gun, but he only calmly took a notebook from his inside pocket. The man opened it and consulted one of the pages before he responded.

"If you do move into, um ... two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way," He told John as he closed the notebook and put it away again.

"Why?"

"Because you're not a wealthy man," The man told him trying to play to his interests. If he thought he could be won over that quickly the man was sadly mistaken. John was not stupid, sure he wasn't as smart as Sherlock or Lexi, but he knew where this was going. Take the man's money and then he would never be left alone.

"In exchange for what?" John asked him not even considering taking his offer, but wanting to know exactly what the man was after. He wouldn't feel right if he just walked away now only to find out later that someone else had taken the offer which might put Lexi or Sherlock in danger.

"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel ... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what they're up to," The man told him, looking down at his umbrella before back up at John as if he was contemplating his words carefully.

"Why?"

"I worry about them. Constantly," The man told John sounding genuine for once. It surprised John, but he still wasn't going to bite. Spying on your flat mates for a strange man in a suit with a stupid umbrella didn't seem like the best way to get off on the right foot.

"That's nice of you," John told him insincerely trying to make it clear that he would not be accepting the business offer or whatever this was. Why would this man even worry about them?

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. Sherlock and I have what you might call a ... difficult relationship. While Alexandra knows of my concern she does not always heed my warnings," The man told him as John's phone trilled again alerting him to another text. He immediately fished the phone out of his pocket once again and read the message he had been sent.

_**If inconvenient, come anyway. SH**_

"No," John told him firmly in response to the man's offer still looking down at his phone. What did Sherlock want with him especially after he had left without him? John couldn't just blame him though, Lexi had run off too.

"But I haven't mentioned a figure."

"Don't bother," John told him as he stowed his phone away in his pocket again. No amount of money was going to get him to change his mind. He was not going to be doing anything to help this man.

The man laughed briefly, it didn't sound like he laughed often. "You're very loyal, very quickly."

"No, I'm not. I'm just not interested," John told him honestly. It wasn't that he was loyal, he just really wasn't interested in spying on Sherlock or Lexi. He wanted a quiet life. That was it. Whatever they choose to get up to was up to them.

The man looked at him closely for a moment, then took out his notebook and opened it again. He gestured to it slightly to make it clear that he was reading a note from the book "'Trust issues," it says here."

"What's that?" John asked him, for the first time since their encounter began, dropping his calm demeanor and instead looking a little unnerved. That couldn't be what he thought it was.

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlock Holmes and Ms. MacKenna of all people?" The man asked John as he looked down at his book again.

"Who says I trust them?"

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily," The man stated before continuing. "And yet you've made quite an impression on Ms. MacKenna. She does seem rather taken with you."

"Are we done?" John asked him impatiently. He was getting tired of whatever the hell this was. He just wanted to have a sit down with a cuppa. The man raised his head and looked into John's eyes.

"You tell me," The man told him calmly. John looked at him for a long moment before turning his back on him and starting to walk away. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from them, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

John stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders tensed and dropped and he angrily shook his head a little. "My what?" He asked the man savagely through bared teeth having finally had enough of the games that the man was playing.

"Show me," The man told him calmly as he nodded towards John's left hand as he spoke. He planted the tip of his umbrella on the floor and leaned casually on it like a man who is used to having his orders obeyed. John, however, was not going to be intimidated and deliberately shifted his feet under him as if digging in. He raised his left hand, bending it at the elbow, and stood still. His message was clear, if the man wanted to look at his hand, he'd have to come to him. Unperturbed by his belligerence, the man strolled forward, hooking the handle of the umbrella over his arm as he reached for John's hand. John instantly pulled his hand back a little.

"Don't," John warned him tensely. The man lowered his head and raised his eyebrows at John, almost as if saying, 'Did I mention trust issues?!' John very reluctantly lowered his hand, holding it out flat with the palm down. The man took it in both of his own hands and looked at it closely.

"Remarkable," The man commented with interest as he studied John's hand closely.

"What is?" John asked him snatching his hand back. He didn't like the way the man was talking.

The man turned and walked a few paces away. "Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield," He said as he turned towards John again "You've seen it already, haven't you? I wonder what you see when you walk with Alexandra."

"What's wrong with my hand?" John asked him ignoring his comment about Lexi. Lexi… Alexandra, John wasn't sure what he saw when he walked with her either, but it definitely was not the battlefield.

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand." Unintentionally, John nodded his head in agreement. He cursed himself for doing so afterwards, but the damage was already done. "Your therapist thinks its post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service," The man continued. John almost flinched as the man accurately fired off these facts at him. His gaze was fixed ahead of him and the muscle in his cheek started to twitch repeatedly as he clenched his jaw in anger.

"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?" John snapped at him angrily. How the hell did this man know all about this about him? How long had he been bloody watching him?

"Fire her. She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady," The man commented. John's eyes flickered toward his hand before returning to stare ahead of himself, his face was set as he struggled to hold back his anger. "You're not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it," The man continued as he leaned closer to John. Reluctantly John raised his eyes to meet the man in front of him that was trying to intimidate him. "Welcome back," He told John in a whisper before he turned and stated to walk away to the back of the ware house. John's phone trilled another text alert "Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson," The man called back casually twirling his umbrella as he walked.

John stood fixed to the spot for a few seconds. He was angry and confused. How the bloody hell did this man know him or Sherlock or Lexi for that matter? He just walked out of there like he was the bloody king of England. John clenched and unclenched his jaw before he turned and glanced towards the departing man one last time. Behind him, the car door opened and not-Anthea got out and walked a few paces towards him. Her attention was still entirely consumed by the BlackBerry held in front of her in both hands. Did she ever put her phone down for a second? What was so bloody important?

"I'm to take you home," She told John who half-turned toward her before stopping and taking out his phone to look at the new message.

"_**Could be dangerous. SH" **_The text read. Jaw clenched his jaw in anger again. He had had far more than enough for one night thank you very much. His phone trilled again with a new text message and John, against his better judgment, opened the new text and read it.

_**Sorry about leaving you like that earlier. Heading to Baker Street to see what Sherlock wants. Don't feel too put out with us. I'll make you a cuppa when we get back. –LM**_

John shook his head at the second text he had received before putting his phone back in his pocket. He sighed heavily, his anger lessening slightly. At least Lexi had apologized to him unlike Sherlock. The nagging feeling came back as John thought over her text message. She said she was heading back to Baker Street now. That meant that she wasn't with Sherlock. She had left with him though. John flicked his gaze over to where the mysterious man had departed. Did he pick up Lexi too? Maybe she and Sherlock had just split up. John was determined to find out who the man was and what he wanted with Sherlock and Lexi. John held out his left hand in front of him again and studied the lack of tremor coming from it. He smiled wryly to himself.

"Address?" Anthea asked him suddenly breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Er, Baker Street. Two two one B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first," John told her as he turned and walked back over to her.

He was driven back to his bedsit and he walked inside switching on the light and closing the door behind him hurriedly, not like he thought that would make any difference if the man really wanted to watch his every move. He crossed the room to his desk and opened one of the drawers taking out his pistol. He checked the clip before tucking the gun into the back of the waist band of his jeans before turning and leaving. If he was going to go back to Baker Street he was going to make sure that he had some insurance. It had been all too easy to kidnap him right off the street. He went back out to the street and slid back into the back seat of the car which took off again. Not long after the car pulled up outside of 221B Baker Street. Not-Anthea was still entirely engrossed in whatever she was typing on her phone. John was convinced by now that she was writing a full length novel.

"Listen, your boss…any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?" John asked her hopefully as he looked across the car at her.

"Sure," She told him nonchalantly not even looking up from her phone. From her tone of voice and how quickly she had answered him, he already knew. Just bloody perfect.

"You've told him already, haven't you?" John said defeatedly with a sigh. She looked up from her phone and smiled across at him briefly.

"Yeah," She admitted and John nodded in resignation and turned to get out of the car. Just as he opened the door, he turned back to her.

"Hey, um ... do you ever get any free time?"

She chuckled before answering him. "Oh, yeah. Lots," She told him sarcastically as she typed away at her phone. John waited expectantly, but she continued working on her phone for a long moment before turning and looking at him before allowing her gaze to drift past him to the door of 221B. "Bye," She told John making it clear that she wasn't interested and their conversation had officially come to an end.

"Okay," John said for lack of anything better to say before he got out of the car and closed the door. He watched the car pull away before he turned and walked across the pavement to the front door of 221B. He knocked on the door and waited patiently for someone to answer it. This day was just getting better and better and from the texts he had received, it was about to get a lot worse.


	6. Could Be Dangerous

(A/N) Annnd back to Lexi's POV for the next few chapters. Oh My God, this story had 50 followers already. I cannot thank each and everyone of you enough. I love each and every one of you that has followed, faved, bloody hell, even read my story this far. Cheers mates, you made this author truly happy. I am so glad you all love Lexi so much. I love writing each chapter and I have some big plans for this story. BIG plans I should say. You should see the stack of notes I have. Anyway, thank you all again, you made me want to cry tears of joy. And now the gang wanted to say there own personal thanks.

Lexi: Aww guys, you made me blush. I'm glad you love me, 'cos you know you love me right? Right? Good.

Sherlock: I don't care what you all think, I'm bored. I NEED a case.

John: He means thank you.

Sherlock: Do I?

John: Just say it.

Sherlock: *sighs heavily* Fine. Thank you.

Mycroft: He always did upset Mummy.

Lexi: Oi! Enough you two. I believe our fabulous readers want to get on to the chapter.

John: Exactly.

Sherlock: ...

Mycroft: ...

Yeah I know...*laughs nervously* in my defense, I was bored and didn't have a wall to shoot. Anyway...

Song that Inspired the Chapter: Waiting Outside the Lines by Greyson Chance

**Noted for all future chapters: I get all my transcripts for the Sherlock episodes from the lovely Ariane DeVere on live journal. You are a saint, I was writing everything up from watching the episode scene by painstaking scene before.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Five- Could Be Dangerous<p>

**"It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important."  
>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <strong>_**The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes**_

**Lexi's POV**

I looked down at my phone as it trilled my text alert, I unlocked my phone, the light from the screen illuminating the back seat of the car. I had one new text message from none other than consulting detective Sherlock Holmes. I smiled ruefully as I opened up the text.

_**Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. SH**_

I laughed, especially at the fact that he had signed his initials, as if I didn't know that it had come from him. This was perfect, he must have found the case we had been looking for. I smiled again when my phone trilled another text alert.

_**If inconvenient, come anyway. SH**_

"_**On my way as soon as I can. LM**_," I texted Sherlock back with a little smile on my face after adding my initials. This was the most fun I had had in ages. It beat spending a night in my flat eating popcorn and watching movies with horribly predictable plot lines. I sat back in my seat hoping Mycroft would hurry up with John so we could head back to Baker Street. I was itching to go through Jennifer Wilson's case and see if there was anything in it that could lead us to our killer. Thankfully I didn't have to wait too long for his highness to get finished threatening John. Mycroft was smiling smugly as he returned to the car which was never a good sign for whoever he had just been talking to. My phone lit up and alerted me to another text just as he got to the car and Allen got out to open the door for him.

_**Could be dangerous. SH**_

I sighed before ginning and sending a quick text to John, a sort of apology for ditching him earlier. I knew he probably wasn't in such a good mood after meeting Mycroft, most people normally weren't. The man in question slid into the back seat sitting across from me once again. I put my phone away as soon as he got back into the car and watched him. He seemed satisfied with his meeting. So, either he successfully managed to scare John away from me or he actually thought that John would be a good influence on me.

"So I'm assuming John passed your inspection and he won't be deported," I remarked hopefully as Mycroft got out his phone. He was probably checking in with Anthea otherwise known as Charlotte. I was probably the only one besides Mycroft to know her actual name.

"Yes, he is rather loyal and admirable. I noticed his posture changed every time I mentioned you. You seem to have made quite a lasting impression upon him in such a short period of time," Mycroft told me smiling smugly as he put his phone back inside the inner pocket of his suit. Apparently Anthea told him something he had been expecting. That could only mean that John was headed back to Baker Street. I beamed at Mycroft in silent triumph.

"You know me Croft, I make a lasting impression on everyone, especially you if I remember correctly," I told him, poking him in the arm playfully, giggling when he glared at me. As much as Mycroft annoyed me I actually was very fond of him. What more, I loved to annoy him.

"Hmm… a fact that I am painfully aware of," Mycroft remarked with a grimace as I giggled in my seat. This was why Mycroft and I never hung out for too long. He claimed he could only stand so much of my company. I didn't mind, Mycroft really couldn't stand anyone. The fact that he chose to spend the most time with me beside Anthea was flattering.

"Can you swing by my flat? I need to pick up my case bag before I head back to Baker Street. Sherlock texted me so I am assuming he made a break through without me," I asked Mycroft who sighed heavily. I giggled again and rolled my eyes at him. Someone was grumpy today, his diet must not be going too well. He was always grumpy when he was hungry.

"Are you seriously considering continuing your association with Sherlock and Dr. Watson?" Mycroft asked me sounding tired. I sighed before staring at him pointedly.

"Yup, whether you like it or not Croft. I like them," I told Mycroft as I leaned forward and poked him in the chest. Mycroft grimaced at this before slapping my hand away. There was one thing Mycroft Holmes couldn't stand at that was being poked. For a man who like to intimate others he was rather self-conscious. "John is nice and as you said loyal. As for your brother, you've been keeping us apart for far too long. You should be happy, I'm doing what you wanted me too, getting back into the cases."

"Yes, but I never said to start working cases with my baby brother. Fine, continue your association with them both, but I will be checking up on you more regularly. I may trust you, but I do not trust my brother," Mycroft finally relented. I smiled back at him knowing I had won this round.

"Thank you Croft," I told him as the car pulled up at my old flat. I bolted out of the car and stomped up the stairs to my flat noisily. It was an indication to my landlord or anyone else that wanted to seek my presence that I was in a hurry. I heard the door to my land lord's flat close as I unlocked my own flat and ran inside. He must have gotten the hint that I was not in the mod to see anyone right now. I needed to get back to Baker Street and pronto. I collected the leather messenger bag that Mycroft had gotten me a long time ago that I used as my case bag. I threw in a whole bunch of odds and ends that I thought I might need while on a case, a notebook, a pen, my laptop.

I ran over to my dresser and pulled out my mittens, it was getting colder out and I would probably be out late tonight. I exchanged my scarf for my favorite red plaid one knowing that I would be grateful for the thicker wool later on. If Sherlock found the case that meant that we had a way of finding our killer. That called for a long nights of work. I felt excited, the familiar rush of energy that I used to have on cases coming back like a muscle memory. I changed my jumper, opting for a grey, soft woollen one instead, and fixed my hair up so that it was a little neater. It was then that I realized that I still had my glasses on. I laughed at how silly I must look to Mycroft. My hair had been a mess and my case glasses were still on. I looked like I used to when I was working on a case, when he would come and get me after I had been working for three days straight and force me to go home to rest. I did one final sweep over my flat before nodding and hurrying out of my flat.

I locked my door behind me, flying down the stairs two at a time before I ran out and slid back into the car beside Mycroft. He was looking disdainfully at the building I resided in. "The only consolation of your association with my brother and the good doctor is that you will be moving out of this place. I'll have someone move your stuff over for you by tomorrow and your land lord will be informed of your departure," Mycroft told me as the car pulled back onto the road heading back to Baker Street.

"Thank you Croft," I told him with a grin. I didn't like fighting with him or even having a disagreement with him. Mycroft could be rather pleasant when we were getting along. As much as I complained, I cared for Mycroft like a brother.

I met Mycroft Holmes on one of my cases. I had lied my way into a government party for the purposes of a case I was working on. The evening had been passing rather pleasantly and no one seemed to realize that I hadn't even been invited to the party in the first place. That was, until Mycroft saw me. He had come right over to me and started deducing me. He smiled pleasantly as he escorted me out of the party, yet he hadn't alerted the police or the secret service to my presence. He simply told me that he would be keeping an eye on me. He was the first person to be able to see right through me. I had tried to forget about the posh man I had met, but it was not long after that first meeting that I had, like John, been kidnapped by one of Mycroft's black cars. He pulled out all the stops for me too, the phone calls and the CCTV camera demonstration. It was a rather eventful first meeting. He tried to intimidate me, but I ended up getting the upper hand in that conversation. I noticed the black cars following me after that first meeting, but I left him to do whatever he wanted to. As far as I was concerned he could play his little games for as long as he pleased. He didn't bother me in the least bit in fact I found it rather flattering that he was following me around.

The car pulled up at Baker Street in no time and as it slowed I collected my bag and looked at Mycroft who was studying me curiously. "Thanks for the ride. I'll text you if I'm having thoughts of killing Sherlock," I told Mycroft offhandedly as I slipped out of the car before the driver could open the door for me.

"Do try to not cause trouble. The paperwork is substantial I assure you," Mycroft drawled out lazily sounding bored. I saluted him before heading for the door to 221B. I knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer it. Mycroft called good night to me through his open window before his car pulled away from the curbing. He probably had been updated by Anthea that John would be returning soon. He must have had Anthea take him the long way, possibly even driving around for a bit so that he could drop me off at Baker Street first. Mycroft loved to be dramatic and if John found out who he was too soon, his whole show in the warehouse would be a lot less threatening.

I didn't have to wait long before Mrs Hudson opened the door for me and tittered about how it was too cold for me to be standing outside as she ushered me inside. "Come in out of the cold. Sherlock's upstairs. Where did John get off to?" She asked me as she closed the door behind me. I slid off my coat and folded it over my shoulder as the warm air of 221B hit my face.

"He'll be back soon. Sherlock and I had to run off so I had a friend of mine give him a ride," I told Mrs Hudson smirking at my own personal joke as we headed up the stairs together. It wasn't as if John really had a choice, but I knew that he should be getting back soon. Actually he was due back any minute if Mycroft got his timing right. "I'll just see what Sherlock wanted. Don't worry yourself, I'll keep an eye on him for a bit," I told Mrs Hudson, taking the stairs slowly, aware that she had a bad hip.

"Thank you dear, I do worry about him sometimes," Mrs Hudson confided in me and I gave a small laugh as we got to the landing. The door to the flat was wide open and I could see Sherlock lying on the couch, his hands under his chin in a prayer like pose.

"You're not the only one," I told the woman, patting her on the arm affectionately, before stepping into the flat after rapping on the door to alert Sherlock to my presence. I would have thought he was sleeping if his breathing wasn't as relaxed as it would be in sleep. He also didn't seem like the sort of person to take a nap while on a case. "So did you find the case?" I asked him as I hung up my coat behind the door along with my scarf.

I walked over to Sherlock and poked him in the leg as I passed by him before I went and plopped myself down in Sherlock's chair. I lounged in his chair, knowing that it would only annoy him. The man in question remained silent, not even acknowledging the fact that I had poked him. I was about to get up and poke him again to see if he was alright when all of a sudden he pushed himself up from the couch and just walked out of the room. I snorted in amusement as I heard him shuffling around nosily in another room, his bedroom probably. I swung my legs over the arm of his chair and nestled down in it, stretching out to find a comfortable position. Sherlock came back a minute later carrying a box of nicotine patches. He sat down on the couch before looking up seeming startled by my sudden appearance. "When did you get back?" He asked me and I cocked my head to the side as I regarded him.

"About a minute or two ago," I told him as picked up his violin. I plucked the strings slightly ignoring the murderous look that Sherlock was shooting my way. Someone was rather possessive. "It's a beautiful instrument," I complimented as I put it back in its place. I didn't want to push him too far. It was one thing to mess with Mycroft, I had known him for far longer than Sherlock. Sherlock might be like his brother, but he was also a lot different too.

"Do you play?" Sherlock asked me as he started pulling patches out of the box. As he spoke he rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt and started to apply the patches to his arm. Three patches, someone had a little bit of a nicotine problem. I grimaced, that wasn't healthy by anyone's definition.

"Mmmm hmmm," I hummed in agreement. "I play the viola though," I told him as he looked back up at me. He gestured to the box of patches, a silent offer and I shook my head quickly. "I'm good thanks," I told him as I settled back into his chair. Sherlock just made a sound of agreement before stashing his patches on the side of the couch and lying back down in his praying pose again. I took out my phone and covertly snapped a picture of him which I sent to Mycroft.

Sherlock shifted in his seat, with his eyes still closed he started pressing the palm of his right hand firmly onto the underside of his left arm just below the elbow. He was pressing on the patches to get the nicotine to release more quickly. I watched him closely, slightly amused by him. He was just as dramatic as Mycroft. His eyes snapped open wide and he stared fixedly up towards the ceiling before he sighed out a noisy breath and relaxed. Someone was getting high on nicotine. I heard a knock on the door down stairs and sent a quick text to Mycroft's assistant Anthea thanking her for returning John to Baker Street. The door opened downstairs and a few seconds later I could hear the low voices downstairs as Mrs Hudson let him in. John started up the stairs and he walked through the door before stopping and starring at Sherlock who was repeatedly clenching and unclenching his left fist.

"What are you doing?" John asked him as he watched him closely. I flipped myself over and lolled my head over the edge of Sherlock's chair, swinging my legs up over the back of it. I stared up at both men upside down, letting all the blood rush to my head. John looked over to me after hearing the movement on the leather and he shook his head at me with a bemused smile on his face as he took in my posture. I grinned back at him as I casually kicked my legs back and forth over the back of the chair.

"Nicotine patch. Helps me think," Sherlock answered him calmly as he lifted his right hand to show the three round patches that he had stuck to his arm. "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work," He continued loudly clicking the 'k' at the end of the work.

"Its good news for breathing," John commented as he walked further into the room seeming to get over the initial shock of Sherlock. I hummed to myself as I put my hands in a meditative pose and closed my eyes. The blood had sufficiently rushed to my head by now. It helped me think and was a lot better for me than nicotine. These days I decided to stay away from any type of drug, even the legal kinds. I took a few deep breaths, calming my system as I fidgeted, trying to get slightly more comfortable.

"Oh, breathing. Breathing's boring," Sherlock told him dismissively as I hummed to myself again. I lifted one lid slowly to see that John was watching me closely before he turned back to Sherlock and frowned as he looked at his arm more closely.

"Is that three patches?" John asked him sounding surprised. I hummed again, more of a confirming note than a meditative one. I peeled my eyes open and sighed as I rested my hands on my stomach and started up at both men before swinging my legs down to the floor and sitting upright.

Sherlock pressed his hands together in the prayer position under his chin again before answering John. "It's a three-patch problem," He told him simply as he closed his eyes again. John looked around the room for a moment before looking back at Sherlock again.

"Well?" John asked him. There was a long silent pause. "You asked me to come. I'm assuming it's important," He continued. Sherlock didn't respond again, but after a couple of seconds his eyes snapped open. He didn't bother turning his head to look at John as he answered him.

"Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked him and I snorted. That was what was what was so dangerous?

"My phone?" John asked him exasperatedly and I giggled at his expression. His eyes snapped towards me and he fixed me with a glare which only made me giggle worse.

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognized. It's on the website," Sherlock explained to him offhandedly as he stayed in his praying pose unaffected by my giggle fest.

"Mrs Hudson's got a phone," John pointed out, starting to sound irritated as he turned back to Sherlock. I clutched my stomach and breathed in and out to calm myself down from my laughter.

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear."

"I was the other side of London," John told him starting to sound angry. I had been on the other side of London too, but you didn't see me complaining. In fact, we both were in the same place, not like John knew that.

"There was no hurry," Sherlock told him mildly. John glared at him as Sherlock gazed serenely up at the ceiling before closing his eyes again. John dug his phone out of his jacket pocket and held it out towards him.

"Here," John told him through gritted teeth. Without opening his eyes, Sherlock held out his right hand with his palm facing up. John glowered at him for a moment before stepping forward and slapping the phone into his hand roughly. Sherlock slowly lifted his arm and put his hands together again, this time with the phone in between his palms. John turned and walked a few paces away before turning around again.

"So what's this about…the case?" John asked Sherlock, but I answered for him as he sat in his drugged state.

"Her case John, like we said back at the crime scene. Her case was missing," I answered him lazily as I got up from the chair and walked over to the mantle with my hands folded behind my back. I lifted my hand up to my head and pulled my hair out of its bun letting my hair cascade back down my back. I started finger combing through it as I watched John. He was following my movements with his eyes. What was it with men and my hair?

"Her case?" John asked me confused as I started quickly braiding my hair down my back. When I finished with my French braid I went and balanced myself on the arm of the couch near Sherlock's head. He opened one eye a crack and lazily looked up at me for a brief moment before closing his eyes again. He was so completely high on nicotine right now it was a wonder that he could still think. One look at the box earlier and I could determine that he was already using the highest dose available over the counter.

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase. First big mistake," Sherlock answered him opening his eyes and flickering them up to me as I looked down at him with an amused expression in my face. I was fighting the urge to poke him again. His eyes were slightly glazed over, his reactions times probably slow enough for me to get away with it. I wanted to stay on his good side though.

"Okay, he took her case. So?"

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it," Sherlock muttered quietly to me and I nodded understanding where his train of thought was going. As he was talking with John I had put together the pieces of the puzzle. He had found the case, but the phone must not have been there. That meant that he wanted John to text the woman's number because it was possible that the murderer had her missing mobile. He raised his voice a little as he imperiously held the phone out towards John who was still not looking at him. "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."

John half-smiled at him in angry disbelief. "You brought me here ... to send a text?" John asked Sherlock tightly.

"Text, yes. The number on my desk," Sherlock told him sounding oblivious to his anger. He continued to hold the phone out while John glowered at him. It looked like he was possibly wondering if he could get away with justifiable homicide. Eventually he stomped across the room and snatched the phone from Sherlock's hand. Sherlock refolded his hands under his chin and closed his eyes but instead of going to the table, John walked over to the window and looked out of it into the street below. Sherlock opened his eyes and tilted his head slightly towards him. I knew what John was looking for, a black car or an oddly positioned camera.

"What's wrong?" I asked John raising one eyebrow as I acted like I had no idea at all what he was looking for. Of course I knew that Mycroft probably had people watching us right now.

"Just met a friend of yours, the both of yours apparently," John remarked as he continued to look out of the window, not doing a good job of hiding what he was doing. I would have to work on his skills, he couldn't be so obvious all the time.

Sherlock frowned in confusion as I cocked my head to the side and regarded him. "A friend?" Sherlock asked John.

"An enemy," John elaborated and Sherlock immediately relaxed.

"Oh. Which one?" Sherlock asked him calmly.

"Your arch-enemy, according to him," John said as he turned towards Sherlock before turning and looking at me. "He said you would consider him the bane of your existence," John continued before looking back at Sherlock. "Do people have arch-enemies?"

Sherlock looked at him narrowing his eyes suspiciously as I tried to stifle a giggle. Of course Mycroft would bring that up, he could be so overly dramatic. "Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Sherlock asked him still studying him trying to deduce his answer before he gave it.

"Yes, to spy on both of you actually," John remarked as he eyed the two of us curiously. Aww, Mycroft was so sweet. He really did care about me.

"Did you take it?" I asked John with a raised eyebrow. I knew he hadn't given Mycroft's demeanor back in the car. He seemed a little put out like he hadn't gotten exactly what he wanted from John. That made my night so much better.

"No," John told me and I laughed as I got up from the arm of the couch and skipped over to him and patted him consolingly on the shoulder. He looked up at me curiously. I noticed then that I was at least six or so inches taller than John. He seemed a little self-conscious to this fact as he noticed the height difference as well.

"Pity. We could have split the fee. Think it through next time," Sherlock told him sounding completely unaffected by this revelation.

"Who is he?" John asked us as I moved to the window and gave a little wave across the way to the window that was open. Mycroft had people watching Baker Street and I knew they could probably hear every word of what we were saying. Mycroft had eyes and ears all over the city.

"The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now," Sherlock answered him softly as I giggled next to John. Mycroft was sure to love that description of his character. I would have to deflate his ego the next time I saw him.

"He's your worst nightmare, but like Sherlock said not our problem right now. Besides, I have that little conundrum covered for the most part leaving us free to do what we need to," I told John as I walked over to the mantle and stood with my back to the boys as I checked my phone. Mycroft hadn't sent me back any comment on the picture I had sent off to him.

"I'm interested, how do you know him?" Sherlock asked me suddenly. I looked up from my phone and over at him as we both studied one another. I shrugged before turning around to face the two men who were waiting for my answer.

"I met him at a party I wasn't exactly invited to. He hasn't left me alone since. Where do you need that text sent?" I asked Sherlock trying to steer the conversation away from how I knew Mycroft. If we continued on that subject I would have to explain other reasons why I knew him and I wasn't in the mood to get into my personal life right now. Sooner or later it would come out, but I was aiming for later rather than sooner. We had a case to work on right now and I couldn't get distracted by reliving the past. I had done some things I wasn't proud of and there were things that had happened that I would rather forget than remember.

"On my desk, the number," Sherlock answered me after a seconds pause. It looked like he wasn't done questioning me, but was done for now. I couldn't blame him for being curious as to why and how I knew his brother. It didn't surprise me that I finally met Mycroft's mysterious brother either. I had known he had a brother to be sure, he would mention him often enough, but every time I hinted to wanting to meet him, Mycroft would always change the subject. I now realized that he hadn't wanted Sherlock and I to meet because he thought the both of us were trouble. It seemed like our meeting had been inevitable however given our chosen occupations and who we employed as company. Sherlock looked away again as John looked at me incredulously, as if questioning why I was acquiescing to Sherlock's ridiculous request. I understood that he had sent the texts to John because he knew it would make John return to Baker Street. He, like me, wanted to keep John around. John give Sherlock a dark look but he had already looked away again and was back in his prayer pose. He walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper that had been taken from a luggage label. He looked at the name on the paper for a long moment before looking up at me.

"Jennifer Wilson. That was ... Hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman?"

"Yes. That's not important. Just enter the number," Sherlock snapped out. John shook his head angrily as he got out his phone and started to type the number into it. I stood watching their interaction completely amused. I could now understand some of what Mycroft had told me about his brother. He did like to be dramatic, but so did Mycroft. The only difference between the two brothers was that Mycroft used charm to get his way while Sherlock was blunt. I actually preferred Sherlock's bluntness over Mycroft's false charm. Both of them were fun to annoy however.

"Are you doing it?" Sherlock asked John after a moment where the only sound in the room came from John trying to type on his phone. It was slightly painful to watch him, it was apparent that he didn't text often.

"Yes."

"Have you done it?" Sherlock snapped out again as I hid my smile at his impatience. And people thought I was as bad as Sherlock?

"Ye... hang on!" John snapped back in frustration. I giggled as I walked over to John. The poor man was going to have an aneurism if Sherlock didn't lay off of him for a second.

"Let me," I told John as I held my hand out for his phone. He inhaled before letting out his held breath and handing me over his phone seeming to calm down slightly. I patted his back as he passed me and plopped down heavily into what I now considered to be his armchair. I finished typing the phone number off of the card before Sherlock spoke again.

"These words exactly, 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out.'" Sherlock dictated and I quickly wrote up the text as John watched me type away at the keyboard on his phone. "'Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Please come.'"

"You blacked out?" John asked Sherlock frowning as he snapped his head away from me to look back at Sherlock again. I raised one eyebrow as I paused typing to watch the two men.

"What? No. No!" Sherlock told him as he flipped his legs around and stood up, taking the shortest route towards the kitchen which apparently involved walking over the coffee table beside the sofa rather than walking around it. "Type and send it. Quickly," He snapped back as he walked into the kitchen. He came back into the room a second later carrying a small pink suitcase. Walking over to the dining table, he lifted one of the dining chairs and flipped it around, setting it down in front of his armchair before putting the suitcase on it and sitting in his chair.

"Have you sent it?" He asked me still sounding demanding and snappish. I looked up from the phone pausing in my typing again.

"What's the address?" I asked Sherlock innocently. I could remember it just fine, I just wanted to piss him off a little bit more.

"Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Hurry up!" Sherlock snapped at me impatiently. I giggled at him which only caused him to snap his head up to glare at me.

"Oi, don't get your knickers in a twist! I sent it," I told Sherlock who huffed back in response as he unzipped the case and flipped open the lid revealing the contents. John covered up a laugh with a cough sounding slightly more convincing this time. Good, he was improving. I looked up at him and smiled at him cheekily before handing him back his phone. I walked over to Sherlock's chair and balanced myself on the arm precariously beside him. Upon inspection of the case, I noticed that there were only a few items of clothing and underwear all in varying horrific shades of pink, a wash bag, and a paperback novel by Paul Bunch entitled "Come to Bed Eyes" in the bag. Hmm, had Jenifer met Sherlock before? He did have rather lovely eyes. John turned towards the case and I caught his eyes widen slightly in shock as he realized what he was looking at.

"That's ... that's the pink lady's case. That's Jennifer Wilson's case," John said sounding bemused and I looked up at him with another grin.

"Yes, obviously," Sherlock answered him as he studied the case closely. John continued to stare at him before looking back at me. Sherlock broke his intense stare with the case to look up at him and then rolled his eyes. "Oh, perhaps I should mention, I didn't kill her," Sherlock told him sarcastically. I giggled and rolled my eyes at Sherlock.

"I never said you did," John told him as he looked at me with an expression of exasperation. I only shrugged at him and looked around the case moving a few things around to get a better look at its contents.

"Why not? Given the text I just had you two send and the fact I that have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption," Sherlock continued as I frowned at what I was finding or rather what I wasn't finding. Her phone wasn't with her case. Ah…that was why Sherlock had us send the text, he thought the murderer had her mobile.

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" John asked the both of us. I snorted at him and rolled my eyes again before smiling brightly at him.

"Now and then, yes, " Sherlock told him with a large smirk on his face.

"Sometimes yes. After all Sherlock and I can tell you exactly how the murderer killed the victim. It is slightly suspicious," I told John truthfully as Sherlock put his hands onto the arms of the chair, using my leg instead of one of the arms, and lifted his feet up and under him so he was perching on the back of the seat. He clasped his hands under his chin again as I took the opportunity to swing my legs onto the seat while I continued to sit on the armrest. He glared at me briefly but I stuck my tongue out at him in response before turning back to look at John who was staring at the two of us and our childish antics.

"Okay. How did you get this?" John asked the two of us as he shifted in his chair.

"By looking," Sherlock told him simply. John looked at me expectantly, obviously hoping for a better explanation, preferably one with more details.

"I was otherwise engaged so I left the searching to him," I told John without giving away the fact that my "engagement" had really been an abduction by Mycroft. That explanation would take way too long.

"Where?" John asked Sherlock who sighed in exasperation.

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention…particularly a man, which is statistically more likely… so obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it the moment he noticed he still had it. Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realize his mistake. I checked every back street wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an hour to find the right skip," Sherlock told us and I wrinkled my nose.

"So that's the smell? I'm actually glad I was needed somewhere else right now. I'll leave the dumpster diving to you," I told Sherlock as I got up from the chair now that I knew where the smell that had been rather pungent for the last few minutes was coming from. I crossed to the other armchair and sat down on the armrest next to John. He straightened up a little in his chair, aware of our suddenly close contact.

"Pink. You got all that because you realized the case would be pink?" John asked us suddenly as Sherlock sent me a glare for my comment about the way he smelt. It wasn't my fault that he smelt terrible. He was the one who went to go look through skips.

"It obviously had to be pink. She seemed rather fond of the colour as you can see from the clothes in her case, also what she was wearing at the crime scene," I told John as I grimaced as I gave the clothes another once over. The colour was rather nauseating. I wasn't fond of pink, probably because I looked terrible in the colour due to my very vibrant red hair.

"Why didn't I think of that?" John asked himself as he sighed and looked up at me.

"Because you're an idiot," Sherlock told him. John looked across to him startled by his insult at his intelligence. I frowned at Sherlock. John was actually quiet brilliant. Sherlock made a placatory gesture with one hand. "No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is," Sherlock said as he refolded his hands and then extended his index fingers to point at the case. "Now, look. Do you see what's missing? Either of you?"

"From the case? How could I?" John asked him as I perked up in my spot and smiled at Sherlock.

"Her phone is missing. There was no phone on the body and there's no phone in the case. We know she had one because we just texted her number. So where is it?" I asked the both of them. Sherlock nodded at my spot on observation.

"Maybe she left it at home," John offered up. I shook my head and cocked my head to the side in thought. Sherlock put his hands onto the arms of the chair and raised himself up so that he could sit down on the chair properly again.

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home," Sherlock told him as he put the slip of paper back into the luggage label on the case before looking up at John expectantly.

"Er..." John said as he looked down at his mobile which he had put on the arm of his chair. "Why did Lexi and I just send that text?" John finally asked Sherlock.

"Well, the question is as Lexi already asked, where is her phone now?" Sherlock asked John trying to get him to work through the answer on his own. I looked down at John and nudged him along. I knew that he could figure it out.

"She could have lost it," John said sounding unsure of himself. I smiled at him encouragingly.

"Yes, or...?" I asked John urging him to continue.

"The murderer...," John said slowly as he watched me closely. I nodded at him enthusiastically. "You think the murderer has the phone?"

"Correct Watson!" I cheered as I nudged him in his good shoulder. He looked up at me smiling slightly at my enthusiasm.

"Maybe she left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone," Sherlock said as he rolled his eyes at me for my over exuberant behaviour. I narrowed my eyes at him and snorted in response.

"Sorry, what are we doing? Did we just text a murderer?! What good will that do?" John asked us as right on cue his phone started ringing. He picked it up and looked at the screen for the Caller I.D. I held my hair back as I leaned over his lap to get a look at his phone. I didn't even notice when he froze at my closeness. The screen read withheld calling. I straightened up and John cleared his throat before he looked across to Sherlock as the phone continued to ring.

"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer..." Sherlock said as he paused dramatically for a moment until the phone stopped ringing.

"But the murderer would panic," I finished for him with a grin as he flipped the lid of the suitcase close and stood up at the same time I did. He walked across the room to pick up his jacket as John continued to stare down at his phone. Sherlock put his suit jacket back on before he walked towards the door. .

"Have you talked to the police?" John asked us as he finally looked up at the both of us.

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police," Sherlock told him as he walked to the door and I snorted at that. He was right however, there wasn't time to talk to the police. The murderer would strike again and soon. We needed to solve the case before they killed again.

"I'm sure Lestrade would appreciate it, but you're right, there's not a lot of time right now," I told Sherlock who smirked at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. He better not get used to me agreeing with him because it wasn't going to be an all the time thing.

"So why are you talking to me?" John asked us as Sherlock reached behind the door and took his greatcoat from the hook beside the one I had hung my coat up on. He looked across the room towards John and suddenly frowned. I looked to where his line of sight fell and noticed that something was missing from the mantelpiece. Awww Yorrick was missing.

"Mrs Hudson took my skull," Sherlock whined and I patted him on the arm consolingly. I kind of missed Yorrick, he added character to the room.

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?" John asked him as Sherlock pulled his coat on.

"Relax, you're doing fine," Sherlock told him as he reached behind the door and pulled my trench coat off of the hook next to his. John continued to sit in his chair just staring at us.

"Well?" Sherlock asked him as he held my coat out for me to slip into.

"Well what?" John asked us sounding confused.

"Well, you could just sit there and watch telly," I pointed out as I slid my arms into my coat and let Sherlock help me put it on.

"What, you want me to come with you two?" John asked us sounding generally surprised. I smiled back at him encouragingly.

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud. The skull just attracts attention, so ...," Sherlock said and John smiled at the both of us briefly. "Problem?" Sherlock asked him as he pulled his scarf off of the hook and handed me mine. I put it on before I cocked my head to the side and studied John.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan," John told us. I snorted and rolled my eyes. That woman, of course she had said something to John. She never knew when to just mind her own business.

"What about her?" Sherlock asked John as he looked away in exasperation. We shared a look, one that showed our mutual feelings for the woman.

"She said ... You both get off on this. You enjoy it," John said and I snorted again. Donovan didn't like me from day one. Of course I had just showed up at the crime scene. I had been in a heated argument with Sally when Lestrade came over to see what was going on. I told him I was a consulting detective and I merely wanted to offer my services to the police force. After the fifth serial murder I had decided to get involved as the police seemed incompetent. Lestrade invited me into the crime scene ignoring Sally's protests. I figured out the case after a rather long night and the next morning the police were arresting the murderer. I was always invited to a crime scene after that by Lestrade, but Sally never got over our first meeting.

"And I said "dangerous", and here you are," Sherlock said nonchalantly as he turned and gestured for me to go ahead of him. I walked out of the door with Sherlock behind me and we started down the stairs with smirks on our faces. I looked over at Sherlock who looked rather charming when he was smiling. He had a sort of boyish charm around him with his dark curls and bright smile that reached his eyes making the corners of them wrinkle. When he was in a foul mood he could look rather imposing however.

"Damn it!" We heard John say behind us as we reached the door and walked out onto the street together. Sherlock pulled out a pair of leather gloves out of his coat pockets just as I took out the pair of soft, grey, woolen gloves that Mycroft had given me. It didn't take long for John to catch up to the both of us and fall into step beside me.

"Where are we going?" John asked us and I noted that he was leaning heavily on his cane again. I looked at Sherlock and pointed it out with my eyes. He nodded back to me in response letting me know he had seen it too.

"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here," Sherlock answered him as I pulled my braid out and redid my bun. It made it much easier to keep it all piled up on the top of my head. It would be easier just to cut it, but I liked my hair at itss current length no matter how much a pain in the arse it could be.

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?" John asked us and I shook my head as I straightened out my hair.

"No, we think he's brilliant enough," I told John before Sherlock cut me off smiling expectantly.

"I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught," He said enthusiastically and I smiled sharing his excitement over the case. As much as I tried to say I didn't work cases any more, I was getting rather invested in this one.

"Why?" John asked us sounding confused.

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John, it needs an audience," Sherlock remarked and I snorted at him. Was he describing the murderer or himself?

"Yeah," John said looking at him pointedly before his gaze turned to me. I pouted at him before sticking out my tongue like a child. Sherlock however remained oblivious to the implication and suddenly spun around to indicate the entire area as we continued down the road.

"This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything," Sherlock told us before I picked up for him as he slipped back into thought.

"All of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Bit strange if you ask me. You'd expect someone to make a scene if they were being abducted in order to get someone to notice yet no one, not one person, saw anything out of the ordinary," I said thoughtfully as Sherlock suddenly held his hands up on either side of his head as if he was trying to focus his thoughts.

"Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?" Sherlock asked us as he paused and suddenly grabbed my shoulders looking right in my eyes.

"Dunno. Who?" John asked as he stopped beside us. We were getting rather strange looks from passersby and I suspected that if I looked up I would see Mycroft's camera trained on us. I stared back into Sherlock's excitement filled eyes as my arms hung limply by my sides.

"Haven't the faintest," Sherlock said nonchalantly as he released my shoulders and shrugged. "Hungry?" He asked us as he led us into the small restaurant we had stopped in front of.

Four impossible suicides and a murderer who seemed to be invisible. Not to mention meeting a man as interesting as Sherlock Holmes. I could understand now why Mycroft had never introduced us. Then, there was Dr. Watson. He interested me in many ways. An army doctor who missed the danger of the battle fields. It had been a long time since I had worked on a case. Nearly, four years. I had quit just after the last case I had worked on that had nearly cost me my life. It was time I got back to work though. I smiled at Sherlock knowingly as we entered the restaurant. The night was still young and there was a killer loose on the streets of London. This was already shaping up to be an interesting day and made for a very promising evening. To quote Sherlock, there was no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on


	7. Not My Area

(A/N)- In which Lexi and Sherlock have a very awkward conversation with John before running throughout London chasing a cab. Lexi wants me to remind everyone that she is not responsible for any typos in the chapter because Sherlock often is distracting her when she is writing them up and of course never points them out until after she's already posted it.

Hi all! It's KattieWatsonHolmes here, your humble author! So, excellent enough for all of you, I have the week off from my Uni classes. Why is this good news? Well I'll tell you why! You get another chapter on Wednesday and the conclusion of A Study in Pink next Friday. It is at this time that I would like to inform you that I am doing things differently than most Sherlock writers. I will be writing up cases in between each case to cover the time break instead of just saying a month later. So, there are four cases between A Study in Pink and The Blind Banker. I will try to make them as interesting as possible, but they are rather important for developing the growing relationship between Sherlock, Lexi, and John. The first case is not Sherlock heavy because Lexi takes the forefront in the case, but I assure you, once they stop working against each other, they will become the dynamic duo. Some of you may not like that I am doing this and some of you may. I like the idea though so I'm doing it. Some of the later cases will be adapted from cases that were only mentioned like The Geek Interpreter and The Speckled Blonde.

I wanted to inform you I have twenty- two pages of notes in hard copy of just the cases up to the third season, not even including the third season yet. No surprise that notes for A Scandal in Belgravia covers six pages of those twenty-two. I have a lot of plans, so I hope you stick around for the long hall. If you wanted a Sherlock story that is plot heavy and well really rather long and on going, look no further. I don't know how long it will take to get to season two, but I plan on just posting a chapter a week until I finish telling my story. Hold on tight kids, because this is when it gets complicated. Now that my long winded explanation is done, let us dive once more onto the breach.

**Song that inspired the chapter: It's Time by Imagine Dragons.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Six- Not My Area<p>

"**There are always some lunatics about. It would be a dull world without them."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, The Red Headed League**

**Lexi's POV**

As we entered the restaurant, the waiter near the door clearly seemed to recognize Sherlock and immediately ran towards us, being altogether too eager to be helpful in my opinion. He gestured to a table at the front window, offering it to us. I observed that the waiter's eyes lingered far too long on me for just a causal interest as he greeted us. I decided to perform a slight experiment on him as I walked past him to sit at the table he offered us. I winked at him and then flashed him a flirty smile which caused him to blush. Hmm, not confident around woman. I deduced that he constantly strung out with women which was why he frequented gentleman's clubs often. There was a card in his pocket with a number written on it, the card being from a gentleman's club near the Strand.

"Thank you, Billy," Sherlock told the waiter offhandedly as he took his coat off and sat down on the side of the table not facing the window. He immediately turned sideways so that he could clearly see out of the window, ignoring us as he was lost in his detective mode. It was like one of those bad cop movies where the police held a stake out. The only difference was that instead of sitting in a police cruiser with coffee and donuts, we were sitting in an Italian restaurant.

John helped me out of my trench coat as "Billy" tried to see if we needed anything else. I told him no and waved him off. He sensed the change in my demeanor and looked at me oddly before he sidled away. John sat down in a chair across from Sherlock, facing the window, after he draped my coat over the back of my chair I slide into the seat next to Sherlock and looked around the restaurant with a smile of contentment on my face. It had been a while since I had last dined here. They had hired new waiters…I wasn't sure if I liked that or not yet.

"Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it," Sherlock told us as he nodded at the building across the street. He kept his eyes trained on it as I snuck a peek across the road. It would look suspicious if we all looked at it at once. One person looking at something was not suspicious. Two people got to be more so as you could observe that there was more than just a passing interest in what you were looking at. Three people looking at something, well you might as well have a big sign on you that pointed out that you were deliberately looking for something.

"He isn't just gonna ring the doorbell, though, is he? He'd need to be mad," John remarked sounding skeptical. I could see John's logic behind his thought, but I thought it more likely that the murderer would show up. He had already made one mistake by failing to see the woman's case. It stood to reason that that he might make an equally bad error by actually showing up where we wanted him to. I therefore couldn't help but laugh at his comment. It came out as a sort of snort before I covered it up with a chocking cough.

"He has killed four people John. I think you could rationally call him mad at this point," I pointed out as I played with the ends of my jumper. I flicked a piece of fuzz away from me and then folded my hands under my chin. I was glad that I decided to change before meeting back up with the boys. I quirked an eyebrow at John who was staring at me funnily. We had a tense staring contest for a few long seconds before he looked away. I smirked in triumph as John shook his head at me in exasperation. Yeah, I had that effect on people. Mycroft was right, I always did make a lasting impression upon people. Was it my good looks, my charm, my winning personality perhaps? Nah, I was just awesome.

"... Okay," John said as the owner of the restaurant came over to our table. He looked pleased to Sherlock so I deduced that Sherlock had a reputation here as well. I smiled joyfully after seeing the man. Angelo, the owner of the restaurant was an old acquaintance of mine and I considered him a friend.

"Sherlock," Angelo said as both men shook hands. It was then that Angelo swept his eyes over the table, looking at who Sherlock's companions were. Well that supported my theory that he normally went everywhere alone. When Angelo finally saw me he let out a cry of delight that seemed to startled John and Sherlock.

"Alexandria! Alexia that cannot be you," Angelo said as I got up from my seat and gave the man a hug. I laughed as Angelo pulled back from our hug and held onto my shoulders as he looked me over. "Why have you not come in so long?" Angelo asked me sounding slightly put out.

"I'm sorry il mio amico, (my friend) I've been keeping myself busy lately. I haven't found a moment to get away," I apologized and the man beamed at my use of his native language. I really hadn't been able to find a moment to get away lately. Mycroft kept giving me something to do to save me from boredom. Either that or just so he would know where I was. I believed that latter rather than the former was true.

"Ah, but back to solving cases I see. You have that look in your eyes again. And how did you meet Sherlock mia bella?" (My beautiful) Angelo asked me curiously. I laughed, knowing Angelo was right. I felt better, happier, than I had in a long time. There was just this feeling I got when working on a case, a sort of excitement, a high of adrenalin. I didn't even have to ask Sherlock to know that he felt the same way.

"Mutual friends introduced us though it appears our meeting was inevitable," I told Angelo cryptically as I sat back down next to Sherlock who was now studying me closely. "By the way thanks Sherlock, I had to see him more today than in the last few weeks. The black car is a little much," I complained as John snapped his head around looking at me with an expression of surprise on his face. Sherlock shrugged, not all too interested in the fact that his brother had kidnapped me. "Yeah, you're not the only one who went for a little ride," I told John with a huff before turning back to Angelo who was watching me with an amused expression. "Anyway, yeah, I met Sherlock," I told Angelo with a grin.

"It is good to see you again Alexia, you must come more often and bring that friend of yours along. Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free," Angelo told us in a hushed voice, raising his finger to his lips in a secretive gesture before he laid a couple of menus out on the table. I smiled but rather doubted that I would be able to convince Mycroft to eat here. I loved Angelo's, but Mycroft was too posh to eat in anything but a five star restaurant. "On the house, for you two and for your date, I make it for you myself," Angelo continued in a conspiratorial whisper as he looked between John and Sherlock. I giggled as John turned red. I loved how everyone was just assuming that John and Sherlock were together rather than John and me or Sherlock and me. Then again, Angelo was of the impression that Mycroft was my boyfriend ever since I answered one of his calls while eating.

"Do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked us. I nodded to him in response. I couldn't remember exactly when it was I had last eaten. I had tea before I left my flat this morning, but after that I had finished up some experiments and then had gone to meet up with Sherlock and John at the flat. After that it had been running around for hours for the case. It was one of those days again. It wasn't that I didn't eat, I did. I just forgot…a lot. When I got invested in doing something, hours could pass before I finally realized the time. It used to be worse when I was working cases. Mycroft would kidnap me for dinner every so often, if anything just to make sure I ate at least once a week.

"I'm not his date," John told Angelo through slightly clenched teeth. I patted his knee underneath the table causing him to jump at the sudden contact. I looked at him pointedly and gave him a little sheepish smile. He looked back at me as if he wasn't sure what to make of me just yet. Good, I wanted to keep him on his toes, keep him guessing.

"This man got me off a murder charge," Angelo told John as he leaned down holding Sherlock's shoulders. I was surprised to see Sherlock smirk slightly instead of shaking the man off. Doesn't mind contact from people he knows and likes, I added to the mental list I was compiling.

"This is Angelo," Sherlock introduced as Angelo offered his hand out to John. John shook his hand, but I could tell he was still slightly irritated by being called Sherlock's date. "Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."

"He cleared my name," Angelo pointed out and I giggled. I knew for a fact that Angelo had actually done some time. I had met Angelo about a year before hand. We got to chatting as he said I reminded him of a friend of his who I now understood to be Sherlock. Angelo knew of my past working with Scotland Yard and some of the reasons why I had stopped working cases.

"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?" Sherlock asked Angelo who shook his head as he briefly glanced across the street.

"Nothing," Angelo answered him as he looked at John again before continuing. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison," Sherlock pointed out and I shook my head before glancing out at the street. It was quiet across the street, for now at least. I had a feeling that things weren't going to stay quiet for too long. Our murderer was bound to show up. Suddenly you get a text from someone that has to be your victim. Naturally, your first instinct would be to panic. You would want to stake out the meet up point, see if it was a police trick or really that the person you tried to kill was actually still alive. Lestrade was being smart by not letting out that they had found another body yet.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic," Angelo said to John before looking at me. "And I'll bring you a glass of that Sangria you like."

"Cheers!" I told him with a grin as I picked up my menu and started reading it over quickly. I gazed over the top of my menu and Sherlock and John, catching Sherlock's eye. We stared back at each other for a few long seconds before he looked away back out the window.

"I'm not his date!" John called tetchily as Angelo walked away. Sherlock put the menu he had been looking over down on the table. So, he wasn't going to be eating. That wasn't going to stop me, I loved Angelo's food.

"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait," Sherlock told John and me as he turned and glanced out of the window again, his eyes flickering from person to person as he deduced each in turn. It was interesting to see how his mind worked. He was so quick with his deductions, so sure of himself. He was used to being right, being the smartest person in the room. Well, this would turn out to be interesting. I had a feeling that living with Sherlock and John would be, for lack of a better word, interesting. Beyond the fact that I would be living with two men, I was living with an ex-army doctor and a consulting detective. At least life wouldn't be boring. Of course just because Sherlock consulted for the police did not mean that I was suddenly going to start working cases again. This was a onetime thing, I told myself firmly. I was just doing a favor for Lestrade and once this case was over I was going to stay out of the cases Sherlock worked.

"So, are you going to eat?" John asked us, bringing me back to reality, as he skimmed over his menu. I glanced down at mine deciding on something at random. Everything was good here and my brain was going here, there, and everywhere.

"What day is it?" Sherlock asked John without bothering to turn around.

"It's Wednesday," John answered him in confusion. I grinned sitting back in my chair and studied Sherlock's profile. So, he was as bad as me when it came to eating. That added to the profile I was starting to make of him. For once I had to make deductions based on information I learned instead of understanding everything at a first glance. I sort of liked it. It was maddening yes, but I liked the challenge, that I had to actually get to know Sherlock in order to "get to know" him.

"I'm okay for a bit," Sherlock answered him disinterestedly as if he barely even thought about it. I glanced out the window quickly, my eyes darting around the faces of those milling about the opposite side of the street. No one fit the profile of our killer just yet, but the night was still relatively young.

"You haven't eaten today?" John asked him and Sherlock made a sound of agreement. "For God's sake, you need to eat!" John protested and I shook my head with a rueful smile on my face. There would be no arguing with him, he was as stubborn as his brother if not more so. Mycroft was a hard man to persuade and I had known if for a lot longer than Sherlock, I doubted I would be able to persuade Sherlock to eat something even if I argued with him until I was blue in the face.

"No, you need to eat. I need to think. The brain's what counts. Everything else is transport," Sherlock shot back and I snorted and rolled my eyes. John frowned at him as Angelo came back with a small glass bowl with a lit tea-light candle in it. He put it onto the center of the table before placing a glass of the house made Sangria down in front of me. He gave John a thumbs up and sent me a smile before he walked away, leaving us to our awkward not really a conversation again.

"Thanks!" John shot a little grumpily at Angelo's retreating form. I giggled and John looked back at me staring icily.

"You know if I had known you two were on a date I would have invited a friend of mine," I said giggling again as John's glare grew steadily icier. Sherlock however was smirking beside me seemingly unfazed by the implications people keep making about him and John. I knew that he didn't actually care, he was like Mycroft in that regard. "I'm just teasing you John," I told John to pacify him. I leaned forward and blew out the candle as a sign of good will before I picked up my wine glass. I saluted John with it before taking a small sip, savoring the taste. Fruity notes of pure alcoholic joy.

"Interesting, you drink, but stay away from nicotine," Sherlock said suddenly as I held my glass in my hand in a rather posh manner. I swirled the contents of my glass around as I raised one eyebrow at Sherlock and snorted.

"I don't drink that often, don't let my Irish heritage lead you to the wrong deduction," I told Sherlock as I pointedly took another sip of my drink. I didn't drink often. Occasionally I would go the pub for some Guinness, but I always left it at one drink and never got drunk. I didn't like how my brain felt slow if I drank too much. A slight buzz was relaxing and a good thing for quieting my mind a bit on occasion, but I didn't like having to struggle to think straight. I grinned back at Sherlock as I put my glass down, knowing that he was, like me, struggling to make his deductions.

"Your Irish then?" John asked me seeming to have gotten over my teasing. He would have to get used to it because if we ended up living together there would be a lot more opportunities to tease him in the future. It was hard not to when he was such an easy target.

"Aye," I said as I let a little of my accent slip in so that I now had an Irish lithe to my British accent. "Ar ndóigh," (Obviously) I said in my native language with a little smirk. John smiled back completely oblivious as to what I had said. Sherlock seemed to catch on and smirked. Angelo came back over to our table with a grin on his face, ready to take our order personally.

John and I ordered something to eat, but Sherlock didn't order anything, no surprise there. We continued on making small talk for a while which mostly involved John and I talking with Sherlock cutting in with a comment every so often as he continued to steal glances across the street. I set my wine glass down on the table in such a way that it reflected what was going on across the street in the glass. We got our food and started eating as Sherlock's attention was fixed out of the window. He was quietly drumming his fingers on the table which was beginning to get annoying. I grabbed his hand and he looked back it me, his eyes wide for just a second before he regained his composure.

"Stop, you're driving me insane," I told him as I let go of his hand and picked my fork up again.

"Not far of a drive then," Sherlock commented as he turned back to the window and resumed drumming his fingers on the table, probably just to annoy me.

"I'm not kidding, this is not my kidding face. You see it?" I asked as I gestured to my face with my hand, pulling my impression of Mycroft. "Keep it up and I will stab you with my fork," I warned him as I pointed at him threateningly with my fork. He looked back at me over his shoulder and only shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at him and leaned in slightly closer, starting a staring contest with him.

"People don't have arch-enemies," John suddenly cut in as he took a bite of his chicken parmesan. It took a long moment before Sherlock finally looked away from me and at him. I stared at Sherlock for a second longer before I sat back in my chair and violently stabbed one of my raviolis, popping it in my mouth and chewing it. Sherlock and John looked back at me and I only looked down at Sherlock's hand since he was still drumming his fingers on the table. He sighed as if the act of stopping was physically challenging. Thankfully for him he decided not to test me. I wasn't kidding, I honestly would stab him with a fork.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked him, ignoring me completely now. I snorted, as if that was even possible.

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen," John said as he looked across the table at me and raised an eyebrow. I knew that this conversation was going to be brought up again. Oh, just wait until he found out who Mycroft actually was. Oh my God, his face! I had to be there when he found out for nothing else except to see his face. It was going to be priceless. Maybe I could get the video footage from Mycroft.

"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull," Sherlock said disinterestedly as he looked out of the window again. I took a bite of my cheese ravioli and chewed it as I contemplated exactly what we could tell John that would pacify his interest in Mycroft for the current moment.

"So who did I meet?" John asked us. I continued to make it look like I was chewing. Mycroft was Sherlock's brother, he could take the bullet on this one. Mycroft was just my self-appointed nanny. I liked to see him as Mary Poppins.

"What do real people have, then, in their 'real lives'?" Sherlock asked John sounding slightly condescending as he completely ignored John's question. I took another sip of my Sangria, happy just to sit back and let them have their little moment. It had been apparent to me that John had been wanting to ask these questions for a while. I had a perfect front row seat to watch this conversation crash and burn.

"Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don't like ... Girlfriends, boyfriends..." John said before Sherlock cut him off.

"Yes, well, as I was saying…dull," Sherlock said and I rolled my eyes at him again. I had a total of twelve friends if you could now count Sherlock, John, and Mrs. Hudson amongst that count. Friends was a rather loose term that I used. Angelo was a rather good acquaintance of mine, but my closest friend still lived in Edinburgh where we both went to University together.

"So…d'you have a girlfriend who feeds you up sometimes?" John asked him curiously as he looked down at his plate before up at Sherlock who was looking back at him exasperatedly.

"Is that what girlfriends do, feed you up?" Sherlock scoffed with irritation before he glanced out of the window again. This was almost too funny to watch. I casually sipped at my drink, thanking whatever deity that brought the three of us together. This was infinitely more interesting than spending a night alone in my flat.

"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" John asked him. I hid my smile by looking out of the window. This was going to be rather interesting. If Sherlock was anything like his brother, he didn't do relationships. Mycroft was as married to his work as Sherlock seemed to be. The only person that came close to being Mycroft's girlfriend was Anthea and she really didn't count.

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area," Sherlock said as he continued to look out of the window. I looked back at John who didn't seem really surprised by Sherlock's response.

"Mm," John hummed in agreement. A long, awkward moment passed before I saw a flash of surprise in John's eyes as he seemed to realize the possible significance of Sherlock's statement. "Oh, right. D'you have a boyfriend?" John asked him and I snorted sharply, almost spitting my sip of Sangria out. Of course he had to go and say something like that just after I had taken a sip. I managed to swallow my Sangria, but it went down the wrong pipe and I started coughing. John patted me on the back as I coughed and laughed at the same time. I managed to regain my composure, wiping a few tears away that had come out from me laughing so hard. Sherlock looked at John sharply finally being broken out of his staring contest with the street. "Which is fine, by the way," John added, still looking at me like I was absolutely mental.

"I know its fine," Sherlock told him quickly looking slightly uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed. I loved how this conversation went from asking who Mycroft was to asking Sherlock if he had a girlfriend. John smiled seemingly to indicate that he wasn't signifying anything negative by what he said.

"So you've got a boyfriend then?" John asked him again and it was a test of my will that I was able to keep in the giggle that was threatening to burst from my lips. He was killing me.

"No."

"What about you then Lexi?" John asked suddenly turning the conversation around to me, if anything to avoid having to look at Sherlock. "Do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend maybe? 'Cos that's all fine you know," John continued as I picked up my Sangria again. I needed a lot more to drink, this was so awkward. Sherlock watched me with more interest than before. Oh so he didn't like it when it was him, but when it was someone else he got all interested. Figures.

"Not my division," I answered him with a grin as I remembered all the times Lestrade had said that to me before I took another sip of my drink and set it down. I was starting to feel slightly more relaxed thanks to the alcohol that Angelo probably knew I needed. Dealing with Mycroft and Sherlock in one day was slightly nerve racking.

"Right. Okay," John said still smiling, though his smile seemed to become a little fixed and awkward. "You're unattached. Like me," John said as he looked down at his plate. He seemed to be rapidly running out of things to say. "Fine," He continued as he cleared his throat. "Good," He finished before he continued eating. Sherlock and I looked at each other before we both looked at John suspiciously for a moment. Sherlock turned his attention out of the window again for a long moment before he looked back at me looking a little startled.

"John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any...," Sherlock said turning his head towards John again. He spoke rather awkwardly but rapidly speed up until he was almost babbling by the time John interrupted him.

"No," John said as he interrupted him quickly. He turned his head briefly to clear his throat. "No, I'm not asking. No," He finished as he fixed his gaze onto Sherlock's, apparently trying to convey the sincerity of his words. "I'm just saying, it's all fine," John told him and Sherlock looked at him for a moment before nodding.

"Good. Thank you," Sherlock told him before he turned his attention back to the street. John looked back at me with a bemused expression on his face that seemed to ask me 'What the heck was all that about?!' I smiled at him cheekily just as Sherlock nodded out of the window.

"Look across the street. Taxi," Sherlock told us. John twisted in his seat to look out of the window where there was a taxi parked at the side of the road with its back end towards the restaurant. "Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out," Sherlock continued as I watched the male passenger in the rear seat of the taxi looking through the side windows as if he was trying to see somebody particular. "Why a taxi?" He asked me before he scrunched his face up in thought. "Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?" Sherlock said to himself before looking up at me for an answer.

"That's him?" John asked us as he continued to stare at the taxi. I kicked him underneath the table in his good leg. He yelped in surprise and turned around to look at me affronted.

"Don't stare, you're going to draw too much attention to us," I hissed at John in a whisper as I used my glass to reflect what was going on across the street. No one was getting into the taxi. Why a taxi? Sherlock made a good point.

"You're staring," John pointed out as he rubbed his leg. I felt bad for kicking him but we were going to get noticed if he didn't stop making it obvious that we were the ones who were watching the street.

"We can't all stare and besides, I'm watching through a reflection in my glass," I told John as Sherlock suddenly got to his feet grabbing his coat and scarf as he headed for the door. I was up a second after him, pulling my jacket on as I walked. Thinking of this like a game of chess, our opponent had already made their move and now it was our turn.

John picked up his own jacket and followed out after us hurriedly. I noted that he forgot to take his walking cane with him. I nodded at Sherlock as he shrugged himself into his coat while he kept his eyes fixed on the taxi. I looked across the street where the passenger continued to look around him before he turned and looked out the back window of the cab. His gaze fell on the restaurant and then on us and he stared back for a few moments while Sherlock and I just stared back at him. This was like the strangest Mexican standoff I had ever seen before. I could already hear the music in my head. Suddenly the man turned towards the front of the vehicle and the taxi began to pull away from the curb. Sherlock immediately headed towards the cab without bothering to check the road that he was running out into. It was no surprise that he was almost run over by a car coming from his left. The driver slammed on the brakes and stopped the car in time but Sherlock, always keen to take the quickest route as it seemed, allowed his forward impetus to carry him onto the top of the bonnet. He rolled over the bonnet, landing on his feet on the other side and then ran after the taxi. I carried off after him taking the same path he had over the bonnet. I giggled as I vaulted off of the hood and broke into a run after Sherlock. I was glad I was wearing my running boots. The driver of the car angrily sounded his horn as John put one hand on the bonnet and vaulted over the front of the car after me as he followed us. He apologized to the driver as he went. I laughed loudly at the fact that he was worried about apologize at a time like this.

"Sorry," John shouted behind me as we chased after Sherlock. I was the first to catch up with him as he had only run a few yards up the road before he realized, like I had, that we were never going to catch the taxi. We both slowed to a halt which gave John the time to catch up with us. He stopped beside us sounding slightly breathless. "I've got the cab number," John told us sounding proud of himself.

"Good for you," Sherlock quipped as he brought his hands up to either side of his head and made what I now deemed his thinking face. I wanted to make a comment about concentrating and orange juice, but I refrained from doing so and opted to instead do something productive. It was possible that we could still catch the taxi if we were smart. I took out my phone and unlocked it before opening an app I had gotten from Mycroft. Well actually I had lifted it off of him or more correctly off of Anthea. From one app I could not only control all of the traffic lights, but if needed I could also hack into cameras or truly anything that Mycroft had the power to control. The best part was the map that came with it with the current traffic situations. As long as I was careful and didn't use it too much, Mycroft would never find out that I had something I shouldn't. I brought up the surrounding street maps along with all the information on traffic lights, current traffic conditions, bus lanes, road work that was going on, and best of all a link to all the CCTVs in the surrounding area. I quickly calculated the path the taxi was most likely to take.

"Right turn, one way, road works, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights," Sherlock said in rapid succession. He lifted his head and I caught his line of sight as he looked at a man who was unlocking a door to a nearby building. Sherlock looked back at me for a brief moment and we shared a look of understanding before we both raced towards the man. Sherlock grabbed him and shoved him out of the way before charging into the building with me falling into step just behind him.

"Oi!" The man shouted as Sherlock and I raced past him. John hurried after the both of us raising an apologetic hand to the man as he went.

"Sorry," I called over my shoulder as Sherlock and I raced up the stairs and out onto a metal spiral fire escape staircase which lead to the roof. Sherlock and I took the steps two and even three at a time. I looked back to see that John was struggling to keep up with us. Sherlock seemed to notice the same thing I had.

"Come on, John," He called back urgently as we reached the top of the stairs.

Sherlock and I ran to the edge and looked over before we spotted a shorter metal spiral staircase that lead down the side of the building to another door one floor lower. Sherlock quickly descended the stairs and climbed onto the railing before leaping across the gap to the next building. I kept moving and made the jump following closely behind Sherlock. He steadied me on the other side before we ran to the other side of the roof. The next jump looked a lot wider than the first. Sherlock and I shared a look and then he grabbed my hand in his own. I was slightly surprised by the gesture, but it was not unwelcomed. We looked forward across the gap and I took a deep breath before jumping with Sherlock across the gap. We were airborne for a good while before our feet landed on the other side. I let out a delighted laugh and whooped as I looked back across the gap. I watched as John come skidding to a halt as he seemed to realize that the gap might be too wide for him to jump given his "bad' leg. I watched as he hesitated and looked down at the drop beneath him. We had to keep moving or we were going to lose the taxi. John needed to make this jump though, not only if he wanted to follow us, but because he needed to make this jump to overcome his thoughts that he couldn't because of his leg. I knew he could make the jump. He had been in the army. He was physically fit and could make this jump if he finally stopped thinking that he couldn't because of his leg.

"Come on, John. We're losing him!" Sherlock called across to John as he looked between John and the roof tops. I knew he was considering leaving him behind so he wouldn't lose the taxi. I squeezed his hand which was still in mine and he snapped his head towards me.

"He can do this, he needs to do this," I told Sherlock quietly. He nodded in response and I looked across to John. "Come on John!" I called to him in encouragement. He looked away from the fall and up at me before he backed up a few paces and braced himself. He took a run up before leaping across the gap. He stumbled a little on the other side and I steadied him before taking his hand and letting go of Sherlock's. The encouragement of a woman always was a good motivator.

Sherlock dropped down onto a walkway along the side of the building and John followed him, but I paused. It was a little higher than I expected it to be. John looked back up at me with a smile and I growled a little under my breath. "Oh shut up," I called down to him. His smile grew steadily smugger. I dropped down onto the walkway and John caught me by the waist and steadied me as I stumbled.

"I didn't say anything," He said still smiling smugly. I wasn't afraid of heights, this wasn't my first time jumping around the rooftops of London. I did however have a bad experience jumping off of what I thought was only a short drop once which ended with me spraining my ankle badly. I narrowed my eyes at John as I ran past him and caught back up with Sherlock. I heard John chuckle behind us as he started following after us again. Sherlock, the smug bastard, shot me an amused look as I ran beside him, my hair flying behind me. We exited the alleyway onto D'Arblay Street, which the taxi was just turning into. We were good. The three of us turned the corner and raced down the last part of the alley only to watch as the taxi drove past the end of it, heading to the left.

"Ah, no!" Sherlock shouted angrily as we raced out of the end of the alley and turned right. "This way," Sherlock said as we continued on. We looked back over our shoulders only to see that John had instinctively turned left in pursuit of the taxi. "No, this way!" Sherlock called back to John again.

"Sorry," John apologized as he turned and headed back in the opposite direction following us again.

I checked my phone as I ran after Sherlock and traced the most likely route that the taxi would take. I chose a new point where we could intercept the cab. I showed my phone to Sherlock who nodded in response agreeing with my choice. We ran down the shorter route, heading down more alleyways and side streets towards the interception point in the middle of Wardour Street. Sherlock and I raced out of a side street and we hurled ourselves right into the path of the approaching taxi. It screeched to a halt as Sherlock crashed hard into the bonnet. I winced before skidding to a stop just behind him. That had to have hurt, at least a little bit. Sherlock scrabbled in his left coat pocket as he made his way around the bonnet. He pulled out an I.D. badge which he flashed at the driver.

"Police! Open her up!" Sherlock demanded as we panted heavily. He tugged open the rear door and stared in at the passenger, who looked back at him anxiously. Instantly Sherlock straightened up in exasperation just as John joined us. I saw the reason behind his exasperation, this was not our murderer. "No," He said as he leaned down again and did a once over the passenger for a second time. "Teeth, tan, what?" He asked me as he turned back briefly to look at me to make it clear that he was directing this question towards me.

"Californian?" I supplied as I read the luggage tag on the bag at the passengers feet. "Yup…California. Los Angeles. Santa Monica to be precise. He just arrived," I finished as I straightened up beside Sherlock. He nodded at me also straightening with a grimace on his face.

"How can you possibly know that?" John asked me sounding completely amazed. I didn't think I would ever get tired of John's amazement. It was different to have someone actually impressed for a change rather than pissed off.

"The luggage," Sherlock answered him as he looked down at the suitcase on the floor of the cab, showing it to John. Its luggage label showed that the man had flown from the Los Angeles International Airport to the London Heathrow Airport. This was the part I loved about doing what I did. Anyone could have made the deduction I had, but people would often see but not observe. Take for instance the fact that you could be living your entire life without observing different things about yourself. Such as are your earlobes connected or do they hang? When meeting someone, what colour eyes do they have? You look right at them, most people looking them in the eye as they talk, but can later not even tell you what colour that person's eyes were. Deductions were simple when you started observing instead of just seeing. "It's probably your first trip to London, right, going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you?" Sherlock said to the passenger who looked rather confused, but still slightly nervous.

"Sorry…are you guys the police?" The passenger asked us as I pulled out an I.D. badge similar to Sherlock's from the inside of my jacket.

"Yeah," I answered him as Sherlock and I flashed our badges at him briefly. "Everything all right?" I asked him smiling at him widely. Charm could work wonders, especially when you were in a bad situation, such like the one we were in now. The man winked at me flirtingly and thankfully I mustered enough self-control to not roll my eyes at him.

"Yeah," The passenger said still flirting with me or at least attempting to. I stole a glance at Sherlock who was smirking. He suddenly smiled falsely at the man.

"Welcome to London," Sherlock said before the both of us immediately walked away, leaving John staring blankly for a moment before he stepped closer to the taxi door and looked in at the passenger.

I watched as John paused for a second at the door. "Er, any problems, just let us know," He told the passenger. The man nodded and John smiled at him politely before slamming the cab door shut. John walked back to where Sherlock and I had stopped a few yard behind the vehicle to wait for him. I watched as the passenger winked at me again before turning to the taxi driver in bewilderment.

"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down," John said as he rejoined us. I smiled at him. He was trying to make deductions too. Hmm, maybe I could teach him a few things.

"Basically," I told John with a laugh as I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets. It was getting steadily colder out. It was getting later and later and we still hadn't found a lead yet. I knew that Sherlock would work through the night. That was completely fine with me. My insomnia had been extremely bad lately and when I had used to work cases I normally wouldn't stop for rest until I had solved them.

"Not the murderer," John said and I nodded at him as I shivered. A nice cup of tea and curling up in Sherlock's chair in front of the fire sounded really good right now. Sherlock's grumblings of me being in his chair wouldn't even be enough to get me to move an inch.

"Not the murderer, no," Sherlock told him sounding exasperated. I snorted and rolled my eyes. Did he have to be so condescending all the time? Oy vey, he was as bad as Mycroft. Seriously thought, would it kill the man to smile every so often? He looked like he was trying to eat a lemon all the time.

"Wrong country, good alibi," John continued seemingly not noticing that he should quit while he was ahead.

"As they go," Sherlock said as he switched his I.D. card from one hand to the other.

"Hey, where…where did you get these? Here," He demanded as he reached for our cards. Sherlock released his without putting up a fight, but I reluctantly handed mine over. "Right," John said as he read the names on the cards. "Detective Inspector Lestrade and Sargent Donovan?"

"Yeah. I pickpocket him when he's annoying. You can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat," Sherlock told him seeming nonchalant as he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. If he could have one I could too.

"I nicked that off of Donovan when I hugged her earlier," I told John with a shrug. He nodded and then looked down at the cards again before lifting his head and giggling silently.

"What?" Sherlock asked him curiously as I cocked my head to the side.

"Nothing, just: "Welcome to London"," John told us. Sherlock and I laughed together his deep baritone mixing with my high soprano. We looked down the road when we heard a noise to find that a police officer had apparently gone to investigate why three people stopped the cab in the middle of the road. The passenger was out of the car and was pointing down the road towards the three of us. That was are cue to hightail in out of there.

"Got your breath back?" Sherlock asked John as we looked back at the army man. The both of us were smiling knowingly. John had forgotten his cane back in Angelo's in his haste to rush after us. Someone didn't have a limp now, in fact he was walking perfectly.

"Ready when you are," John told us. I threw back my head in a laugh as I bolted off down the road without the boys. I loved running through the streets of London. I missed this. I looked up and watched as the CCTV cameras followed me. Mycroft had his cameras set on me, watching my progression through the city. The heavy footfalls behind me were the only evidence that Sherlock and John had taken off after me. I was a good distance a head of them though so I rather doubted that they would catch up. I sent a thumbs up to the nearest CCTV camera and watched as there was a flash and my picture was taken. I laughed again as my hair flew behind me, probably becoming a tangled mess. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. This was no longer just a one case thing. As much as I could argue with myself that I was only taking this case, I knew that that was not the truth. I was just the same as I was before and I was never changing who I am. I, Lexi MacKenna, consulting detective extraordinaire, was back and London had better be ready for me.


	8. It's A Drugs Bust Mrs Hudson

**(A/N) Seventy followers, oh my stars I love you all, cheers! I seriously never expected this, thank you all for all of your support. Also, g**lad to see so many of you on the Facebook pages! **Again, Lexi wants me to point out she is not responsible for any grammatical errors. In this chapter, we have the drugs bust and a bit of a surprise towards the end. Virtual cookies to whoever saw it coming and can guess what it means for the future of this story. Currently working on another own case set of chapters, just you wait, this is going to be fantastic! -KattieWatsonHolmes**

**Song that inspired the chapter: Outta My System by My Morning Jacket. I do recommend listening to these songs because they tell a story about Lexi and Sherlock along with the story.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7: It's A Drugs Bust Mrs. Hudson<p>

**"Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius." **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle,<strong>_**The Valley of Fear ** _

**_Lexi's POV_**

I slowed my pace as I neared Baker Street and the boys caught up with me, their faces flushed from the cold and exercise. We ran side by side the last few blocks looking to the world like a trio of crazy people. Pedestrians jumped out of our way as we darted down streets and cut through back alleys. We got back to the flat and Sherlock unlocked the door, the three of us walking into the hallway of Baker Street breathing heavily. John took off his jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall while Sherlock draped his coat over the bottom of the bannisters. He turned back to me and helped me slip out of my coat before throwing it over his own. I pulled off my scarf and flicked it at Sherlock with a laugh before draping in over the bannister. This new found companionship we had slipped into was nice. It seemed like I had always known John and Sherlock at this point.

"Okay, that was ridiculous," John panted as the three of us leaned side by side against the wall still trying to catch our breath. I was in the middle of the boys, shoulder to shoulder with the both of them. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"Says the man who invaded Afghanistan," I pointed out with a breathless laugh. John giggled in a very adorable way and after a moment Sherlock joined us in our laughter.

"That wasn't just me," John panted and Sherlock and I chuckled again. My heart rate started to calm down as I heard my phone buzz in my coat pocket. I groaned and pushed off of the wall before going over to dig out my phone. Mycroft had texted me a slightly blurry picture of me running through London with an expression of delight on my face.

"_**Welcome back…I must say my brother and the good doctor seem to be good for you." **_

"_**Good to be back Croft. Do you think it would be possible to get my old stuff back? I know I gave it over to you before, but I think I might need it," **_I texted back as I listened to John and Sherlock with a grin on my face. I just couldn't get that feeling to go away, the feeling of elation.

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" John asked Sherlock sounding slightly confused.

"Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway," Sherlock told him, becoming more serious and waving his hand dismissively. I looked over my shoulder at the boys and rolled my eyes fondly at them. Of course he would take us out and lead a chase throughout London without even believing our murder was going to show up in the first place. I couldn't complain though, I had gotten dinner out of it and I had gotten to know the both of them better.

"So what were we doing there?" John asked him still sounding confused. My phone buzzed again and I smiled as I read the text Mycroft had sent in response.

"_**I'll have it all sent over tonight." **_

Sherlock cleared his throat before responding to John. "Oh, just passing the time," He said as he looked up at me. I smiled at John mischievously as I texted Mycroft back a picture of Sherlock I had taken while John was distracting him with questions.

"And proving a point," I said knowingly as Mycroft sent me back a text saying he might have to frame the picture because Sherlock was actually smiling for once.

"What point?" John asked me and I giggle as I texted Mycroft that someone should call the press. He seemed rather fond of the idea, but told me he settled on just sending it on to their mother. I laughed at that quietly, Sherlock would most likely be hearing from Mummy Holmes about that soon enough. I had never met Mycroft and well, Sherlock's mother, in person, but I had talked to her before over the phone when Mycroft was talking to her in his office. I wanted to meet her, but Mycroft had refused this idea profusely. I actually adored Mummy Holmes and she seemed to like me. She said I was good for Mycroft.

"You," Sherlock answered John as he turned and called loudly towards the door to Mrs Hudson's flat. "Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson and Lexi will take the rooms upstairs."

"Says who?" John and I asked at the same time. John sounded skeptical, but I asked it as a joke. I beamed at Sherlock, my tongue between my teeth. He was learning quickly that I disliked being called Ms. MacKenna.

"Says the man at the door," Sherlock answered him, ignoring my comment, as the three of us looked towards the door. I didn't have to ask how Sherlock knew I was going to take the room upstairs. I knew he could have deduced that fact and I knew that he knew I was back to solving cases. This was the kick I needed to get back into the game. When you walked with Sherlock Holmes…for John he saw the battlefield, for me…I saw the life I used to have. John turned his head towards the door just as someone knocked on it three times. He turned back to look at Sherlock and I in surprise. We smiled at him as our only answer and I nodded towards the door encouragingly. John stared at us for a moment, then walked along the hall to answer the door. Sherlock leaned his head against the wall and blew out a breath as John opened the door and found Angelo standing outside.

"Sherlock texted me," Angelo said as he smiled knowingly and held up John's walking cane. "He said you forgot this," He continued as John stared at the cane in surprise before taking it. Sherlock and I took a second to look at each other and share a triumphant grin.

"Ah," John said as he turned and looked down the hall at Sherlock and me. We grinned back at him smugly. John turned back to Angelo who was waiting. "Er, thank you. Thank you," John told him and Angelo nodded before looking past John and smiling at me.

"Felice di vedere si torna in gioco," He told me with a grin. (Glad to see you back in the game) I laughed as I shook my head at Angelo.

"Sono contento di essere tornato mio amico," I responded before he waved to me and left. (Glad to be back my friend) John came back inside and closed the door as Mrs Hudson came out of her flat and hurried over to the three of us.

"Sherlock, what have you done?" Mrs Hudson asked sounding upset and tearful. I looked up the stairs at Sherlock's and, well, now my flat. The door was closed but I could see people moving around as people blocked out the light flooding out from under the door. This was going to be interesting, very interesting.

"Mrs Hudson?' Sherlock asked her confused as to why she was upset. I was quiet sure I wasn't going to like what I found up there either. I had a feeling that I knew who was up there and if I was right this was not going to end well for Sherlock or me.

"_**You might need to bail me out of jail tonight,"**_ I texted Mycroft quickly. His response came in a second later. Any mention of jail, drugs, or anything else he considered serious enough always granted me an immediate response.

"_**What is it?"**_ Mycroft's text read. I could read a lot of different things in that simple response. One he was worried about me due to his short reply and two he really did care.

"_**People are in my flat and I can guess who. I might be booked for assaulting a police officer,"**_ I texted him back quickly. His response was instantaneous as if he had been waiting for my text to come through. I knew he actually had been. Mycroft and I had a system put in place. If I was going to do something stupid I would text him first. If it was serious, it didn't matter where he was or what he was doing, he would always be there five minutes later.

"_**If you feel you must. Try to restrain yourself. The paperwork would be astronomical,"**_ Mycroft texted back and I could tell that he had sighed after reading my last text. I wasn't in immediate danger, just probably about to get severely pissed off. I wasn't entirely kidding though, he might actually have to come bail me out of jail. That would be a lovely first impression upon John and Sherlock. I didn't think Sherlock would mind if I assaulted a police officer, but John might. For his sake, I would try to control my temper.

"Upstairs," I heard Mrs. Hudson tell Sherlock as I looked up from my phone. Sherlock turned and hurried up the stairs with me just a step behind him. John followed behind us as I shoved my phone into my back pocket. Sherlock opened the living room door and the two of us walked in. We found Lestrade sitting casually in Sherlock's armchair and other police officers were going through Sherlock's possessions. Sherlock stormed over to Lestrade as my eyes scanned the room looking for one thing that I didn't find, my case bag. I growled angrily as I walked up to Lestrade and stood beside Sherlock with clenched fists. There was one thing that they had no right to go through and that was my case bag. First of all, I didn't technically live here yet and second of all Lestrade had no right to go through my stuff.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock spat at him. Hmm that was where Sherlock and I differed. By now I would have already used a few colourful words. I was beyond livid to put it lightly and that was because I knew where this was headed.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid," Lestrade told him grinning smugly. I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't care what his reasons were, I wanted to know where my bloody case bag was. There was something in there that was private and if they had gone through it…well let's just say my joke wouldn't be a joke anymore.

"You can't just break into my flat,' Sherlock said through clenched teeth as John walked into the room behind us.

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat," Lestrade pointed out. Oh clever Greg, real clever.

"Well, what do you call this then?" Sherlock asked him as he waved his arm around gesturing to the people invading his sanctuary.

Lestrade looked round at his officers before looking back at Sherlock innocently. "It's a drugs bust."

"Seriously?! This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" John scoffed behind us. Oh not good. Sherlock turned and walked closer to John, biting his lip nervously. Not good, very not good. Damn you Lestrade!

"John..." He tried but John just cut him off and didn't let him finish.

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational," John said to Lestrade. I decided to try and help Sherlock out of this.

"John, you probably want to shut up now. Actually, I would shut up now," I told him as I walked closer to Sherlock and put a hand on his arm comfortingly. I knew what he was going through and I knew that he was trying to make a good impression with John. This was most certainly something he didn't want him to know and I didn't want John to know about my own addictions either. I thought he would shake off my hand, Mycroft was never one for human contact and I expected Sherlock to be the same way, but he just looked down at it before looking up at me scanning my face. I knew he was trying to deduce my motives behind the action. He seemed pleased with what he found as he looked back at John.

"Yeah, but come on..."John said faltering as he looked into Sherlock's eyes. "No," He said suddenly.

"What?" Sherlock asked him and I squeezed his arm. I knew how hard it was when someone brought up your addiction. Mycroft never brought it up unless he had to, but others weren't as kind about it. The worst part about it was people seemed to hang it over your head. It didn't matter what you did to turn your life around, people would always remind you of it.

"You?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped at him angrily before shaking off my hand and turning back to Lestrade. He was back to being his normal self. I sighed as I joined him across the room. I was pissed too. This wasn't fair, Lestrade knew about what I went through and what Sherlock went through. He was using that against us to get what he wanted. The fact that he would have never known about the case unless Sherlock and I pointed it out was what pissed me off the most. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog," Lestrade told him as he nodded toward the kitchen.

"What, An..." Sherlock said as the closed doors to the kitchen slid open to reveal several more officers in there searching through the room. Anderson turned toward the living room and raised his hand in sarcastic greeting. Lestrade, Sherlock, and John all stared at me worriedly as I let out an audible growl as my eyes zeroed in on what he was holding in his other hand.

"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" I spat at him as I strode forward and roughly snatched my bag from his hands. I opened my bag and took out my battered journal which I could see had been flipped though as some of the torn pages were askew and things I had thrown into it were haphazardly replaced.

"Oh, I volunteered," Anderson told me venomously as I walked away from him with my book in my hands, dropping my case bag near John's chair violently. I bit my lip angrily ready to punch him but holding back. This book was privet. I kept things in here that I had never told anyone about. Mycroft didn't even dare to look through it.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen,' Lestrade said not realizing the danger everyone was in right now. I heard my phone buzz but ignored it. I knew that Mycroft's man across the street had notified him that something was going on with me. Donovan suddenly came into view from the kitchen holding a small glass jar with some white round objects in it that I immediately identified as eyeballs.

"Are these human eyes?" She asked Sherlock as I bristled in my anger. It was boiling under the surface as much as I attempted to control it. The thought of Anderson, the little bastard looking through my journal, reading everything I had written made me want to go and grab the gun I knew John had on him and get a little bit trigger happy.

"Put those back!" Sherlock yelled as I heard my phone buzz again. I ignored it like before, too angry to even think about talking to Mycroft right now. I stared at Anderson with hate, knowing how easy it would be to take him out. No one would even see it coming. I might be able to take Donovan down too before someone stopped me. Lovely thoughts Lexi, I told myself. I grimaced internally knowing I had spent far too much time solving murders at this point if I was already planning the demise of Anderson and Donovan. I did, however, plan the deaths of my closest friends as a sort of exercise. Mycroft for instance would be easy enough to smother in his sleep. Gotta stop thinking about murder there Lex, getting kind of morbid now I told myself with a mental nervous chuckle. I wasn't a violent person, but my anger did get the better of me some times. While I would like nothing more than to kill Anderson right now, I never would actually murder someone.

"They were in the microwave!" Donovan responded in disgust. Good, I was glad she was disgusted. I wanted them out of the flat now.

"It's an experiment," Sherlock told her in his defense. My phone started ringing as Mycroft continued to try and reach me.

"Keep looking, guys," Lestrade told them as he stood up and turned to Sherlock. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish," Sherlock told him pacing angrily as my phone started ringing again.

'Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?" Lestrade asked him. Sherlock stopped in his pacing and glared at him as I stood there staring numbly at them.

"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock asked him indignantly, spluttering over his words. I had never seen him be at a loss for words before, but I knew why he was now. He was right after all, the case was clearly visible in the room but instead of just taking it and leaving, he had to set up a fake drugs bust.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything," Lestrade told him seriously. I rolled my eyes at him as I continued to fume. This was beyond ridiculous at this point.

"I am clean!" Sherlock announced loudly. I looked to him and nodded, he was clean. The way it seemed, and I could only guess since I didn't actually know much about his own addiction, but from the way it sounded, he had, like me, taken drugs to help him think better. I knew he wasn't thinking of going back to that. We were clean and it was going to stay that way. Well, not to mention the fact that Mycroft would probably have my head if I used drugs again. I wasn't planning on it though. That was a part of my life I wanted to forget. I hadn't made the best choices then, but I was trying to make up for that now. Maybe it was time to start getting back into what I used to do. I tried to stay away from anything that reminded me of that part of my life and cases were part of it, but my work was part of me. As much as I tried to stay away from it, I couldn't stop myself. That was why I still did experiments, still played the viola, and still made deductions. Not like I could ever stop making deductions. It wasn't something that just turned off when you wanted it too.

"Is your flat? All of it?" Lestrade asked before he was cut off by the sound of Sherlock's phone going off at the same time as mine. Sherlock reached for his phone angrily and answered it.

"Holmes," He bit out before his face darkened even more. "I have no idea," Sherlock said into the phone before he held it out for me. I didn't even ask who it was as I took it from him. I knew who it was as I held the phone to my ear as everyone watched me curiously. Sherlock was scanning me taking in my posture and I saw the little light bulb turn on in his brain as he deduced the answer to whatever question Mycroft had asked him.

"Lexi, what is going on?" Mycroft asked me using the calm voice he always used when he knew I was about to blow at any second. Just because I hadn't snapped yet did not mean that Anderson was safe. In fact, he was as far from safe as anyone could ever be with me.

"You know what I said earlier about possibly needing you to bail me out of jail tonight. I might actually need you to do that," I said speaking quickly into the phone. I saw John and Lestrade's eyes widened at my words, but Sherlock remained emotionless as he studied me. I wasn't kidding, I was seriously considering punching the smug look off of Anderson's face.

"What happened?" Mycroft asked me hesitantly. I was quiet sure if he had been standing in front of me I would see his face pale. Mycroft had seen the extent of my anger before. Let's just say that conversation hadn't ended well, especially since my anger was directed towards him. That was back when I was in rehab though.

I strode past Lestrade and Sherlock and walked over to the window looking out of it down at the street. I could hear him moving in the background and he said something on the other side, but it was muffled. Something about Anthea getting the car ready for him. "They touched it Croft, they bloody went through it," I hissed angrily into the phone knowing that he would understand what I meant.

"I'm headed over now," Mycroft told me hurriedly as I heard him barking orders on the other line.

The one thing I could say about Mycroft is that no matter what he was doing, if I needed him, he was there. I had always wondered why, why he cared so much. I wasn't a family member, I wasn't a friend at first, but he had helped me. He had cared about me, something I had deduced wasn't normal for him. I could understand it better after having met Sherlock. I reminded him of Sherlock. Mycroft always told me he had regrets, should have done things differently with his brother and I never understood what he meant, but now I did. He wished he had been there more for Sherlock, had done things different with him. They were so estranged now, so much animosity between them that there really wasn't any brotherly bond between them anymore. I didn't know what lead to them growing so far apart, but I knew that Sherlock seemed to have never forgiven Mycroft for it. Mycroft treated me like a sister, he did for me what he wished he would have done for Sherlock. In a way it was touching to think that he had helped me because he saw me as being like his brother. That didn't mean that Mycroft didn't annoy the crap out of me half the time because he was being overprotective like a big brother would.

"No, you don't need to come. Right now I don't want to look at anyone and if you value your life, you will stay exactly where you are," I told him and I heard the line go dead for a few seconds before Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Please hand the phone back to my brother," Mycroft directed me calmly. I turned on my heel and strode over to Sherlock thrusting the phone in his direction. He took it and I briefly looked over at John and Lestrade who both looked really worried. They had yet to see the full extent of my temper.

"What?" Sherlock asked him before he fell silent as Mycroft was no doubt telling him the nature of the problem going on. Sherlock looked at me briefly for a second before clearing his throat. "I'll see what I can do," Sherlock told him before hanging up the phone. He looked back at me and approached me slowly like Mycroft had no doubt warned him to do. "Lexi, I know you're upset and angry, but I need you to focus on the case. Just remember the case. Nothing else matters except for the work," Sherlock told me as he hesitantly put a hand on my arm like I had done for him earlier when I tried to calm him down. My anger suddenly melted away and turned instead to shock. He was, well he was trying to comfort me. That was different, even Mycroft didn't initiate contact and I had known him for four years. Sherlock and I had only just met. I nodded at Sherlock slowly before moving and clutching my book to my chest. I looked at Lestrade who had his mouth hanging open like a goldfish and at John who looked shocked, confused, and slightly worried about what had just happened.

I knew that Lestrade had never truly seen me get that angry before, not even after the last case I worked on for him. "Are you going to check my flat next?" I snapped at Lestrade who promptly closed his mouth.

"Only if I have to," He said solemnly. I knew what he was thinking about and I turned my gaze from him before walking over to the book shelf and slipping my journal in between one of Sherlock's encyclopedias and a book on bee keeping.

"I don't even smoke," I told Lestrade as I turned around again and lifted up the arm of my jumper showing him my right arm. If you looked closely you could still see the scars of the needle marks around my elbow. Sherlock unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve and pulled it up to show the nicotine patch on his lower arm, well, one of them at least.

"Neither do I," Lestrade told me as he likewise pulled up the right sleeve of his own shirt to show a similar patch on his arm. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned away and the three of us pulled our sleeves back down again "So let's work together. We've found Rachel," Lestrade told me trying to turn the conversation around to a less dangerous topic.

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked him quickly as he turned back to face him. I walked forward crossing my arms in front of me.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter," Lestrade told me as he continued to eye me. For the rest of his life he would be glad he never did find out how far my anger went. I wasn't joking when I thought about taking John's gun and shooting Anderson.

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock asked me as he turned and looked at me with a frown.

"Never mind that. We found the case," Anderson said butting in as he pointed to the pink suitcase that we had left in the living room on our way out earlier. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopaths." I growled at Anderson who had the decency to look slightly scared.

"We're not psychopaths, Anderson. We're high-functioning sociopaths. Do your research," Sherlock told Anderson as he looked at him despairingly before turning back to Lestrade. I snorted at Sherlock. Oh to be sure I was a high functioning sociopath, but it was funny hearing Sherlock include me in what he was saying. We seemed to have found a sort of companionship one built on understanding of our pasts and the fact that we had both experienced the same struggles. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. We need to question her."

"She's dead," Lestrade told us and I groaned. Oh that was brilliant. It was always something.

"Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed and John looked startled at this. "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago," Lestrade explained to Sherlock and I. John grimaced sadly and turned away, but Sherlock only turned to me and looked at me confused. I shared his expression. That didn't make since.

"No, that's ... that's not right," I told Lestrade before turning to look at Sherlock. "Sherlock, that's not right. We missed something, we had to have missed something. There's always something," I told him and he nodded at me in agreement. That didn't fit in with anything. Why, why would she write Rachel? There had to be something else to this mystery.

"How ... Why would she do that? Why?" Sherlock asked me as he stepped closer to me.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?! Yup…sociopaths; I'm seeing it now," Anderson said and Sherlock and I both turned to him with exasperated looks on our face.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt," Sherlock said as he began to pace back and forth across the room again.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow," John offered up. Sherlock stopped and turned to him suddenly.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" Sherlock asked and John stared back at him blankly. I had to agree with him on this one. Sherlock hesitated and looked back at me as he realized that everyone in the flat had stopped what they were doing and had fallen silent. I shrugged at Sherlock not understanding what their problem was. We glanced around the room before looking at John awkwardly who was staring in disbelief at the both of us.

"Not good?" I asked John slightly confused as I shifted uncomfortably as everyone watched Sherlock and I. I really couldn't understand what the problem was with what he had said. It made logical sense to me.

John also glanced around at the others before turning back to Sherlock and I. "Bit not good, yeah," John answered me and I looked at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow to see if he was just as confused as me as to why that was not good. Sherlock shook it off and stepped closer to John, looking at him intently.

"Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered, in your very last few seconds what would you say?" Sherlock asked him before turning back to me to show he was asking me the same question.

"'Please, God, let me live,'" John answered him without any hesitation. I nodded my head in silent agreement. I had said the same words only once before and I never wished to have to say them in the same context again.

"Oh, use your imagination!" Sherlock told us exasperatedly. I could see he was slightly disappointed in my response being the same as John's.

"I don't have to," John and I said at the same time. I looked over at John who shared the same look of pain as I did, though he also looked slightly surprised at my admission. Sherlock seemed to recognize the look of pain on our faces. He paused momentarily and blinked a couple of times, shifting his feet in in a sort of apologetic way before continuing.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever ... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever," Sherlock said as he started pacing again. I caught on to what he was think about easily.

"Clever, very, very clever. She's trying to tell us something," I realized and Sherlock flashed me a smirk as Mrs. Hudson came to the door of the living room.

"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock, Lexi."

"We didn't order a taxi. Go away," Sherlock snapped at her as he continued pacing. Mrs. Hudson should be sainted for the fact that she didn't even bat an eye at the harshness of his words. She just looked around the room.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" Mrs. Hudson asked us tittering away like a mother hen.

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson," John told her sounding slightly exasperated.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers," Mrs. Hudson said anxiously. I blinked rapidly before scanning her, making a series of quick deductions. They most certainly were not just herbal soothers, but I was in no place at all to judge. I guess that was all part of Mrs. Hudson living through the 70's and 80's.

Suddenly Sherlock stopped in his pacing with his back to the door and shouted, "Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."

"What? My face is?!" Anderson asked him indignantly. I snorted at Anderson.

"Your face puts everyone off Anderson, I don't know how Donovan can bring herself to shag you," I told him with a venomous smirk on my face. Point one for Lexi, null for Anderson. At least it was a little form of revenge for what he had done that would not wind up with me in a cell. Mycroft would be so proud of me. The room grew completely silent again as Anderson and Donovan stood frozen and red in the face at my accusation.

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back," Lestrade ordered, being the first person break the uncomfortable silence. John was currently staring at me like he was quite certain he never wanted to cross me.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Anderson called as he stared at me with pure hatred. The feeling was mutual.

"Your back, now, please!" Lestrade ordered him. Anderson complied by shutting the door to the kitchen.

"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock said to himself, bringing his hands up to the side of his head and running them through his dark curls, tousling them more than they already were.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs. Hudson asked him innocently. Oh, bad move.

Sherlock turned to her slowly. "MRS. HUDSON!" he shouted at her furiously. She turned and hurried away down the stairs. Sherlock stopped suddenly and looked around as he seemed to finally realize something. "Oh," He said as he smiled in delight and strode over to me holding my shoulders as he gazed down at me. I might be tall, but I still only just came up to his shoulder which forced me to have to look up at him. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes!" He said as he turned back to the others and released his grip on me. Everyone was looking at Sherlock oddly due to the little display of conviviality he had shown me. "She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it," Sherlock started before pointing at me gesturing for me to finish.

"She planted it on him. Oh she was rather clever wasn't she," I picked up for him as I thought it over. "When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left her mobile behind purposely to lead us straight to her killer," I told the room at large and Sherlock smiled at me as everyone just stared at the two of us.

"But how?" Lestrade asked us. Sherlock and I both slowly turned and stared at him. This was supposed to be Scotland Yard's best and brightest?

"Wha...? What do you mean, how?" Sherlock asked him and Lestrade just shrugged. Sherlock and I shared that typical look of exasperation as we realized that we would have to spell it out for them.

"Rachel!" I told Lestrade as Sherlock and I looked at everyone triumphantly. They all looked back at us blankly.

"Don't you see? Rachel!" Sherlock tried again and still everyone started at us blankly. Sherlock laughed in disbelief as he looked at me and then back at everyone else. "Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being us? It must be so relaxing. Lexi is the only one in this room that seems to have a working brain besides myself."

"Merci," I thanked Sherlock as I nodded my head in his direction. He returned my gesture with his own nod before turning back to look at everyone else again.

"Rachel is not a name," He told everyone sternly.

"Then what is it?" John asked him sounding equally stern.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address," Sherlock told him. John moved and looked at the label on the suitcase and read out the address for us.

"Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk," He told us as Sherlock sat down at the dining table and looked at his computer notebook. I stood behind his chair keeping enough distance between us. I knew Sherlock's aversion to human contact was firmly put into place again.

"Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, its e-mail enabled," He said as he pulled up Mephone's website and typed the email address into the 'User name' box. "So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address..." He continued on as he began to type into the 'Password' box.

I straightened up and looked at everyone, especially at Anderson and Donovan who had slipped out of the kitchen. "... and all together now, the password is?" I asked them with just a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"Rachel," John answered me as he came to stand behind Sherlock with me.

"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Anderson asked us. I let out a slow breath before rounding on Anderson.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street," I snapped at Anderson before turning back to look at Lestrade. "We can do so much more than just read her e-mails, don't you see! It's a smartphone which means it has GPS, which means if you lose it- you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her," I told him before turning back to Sherlock. I caught him smirking before he wiped the look off of his face.

"Unless he got rid of it," Lestrade pointed out. I rolled my eyes at his comment.

"We know he didn't," John told Lestrade for me as Sherlock stared at the screen impatiently as it continued to load the page that would tell us where her phone was at.

"Come on, come on. Quickly!" Sherlock abused the computer as Mrs. Hudson trotted up the stairs and came to the door again.

"Sherlock, Lexi, dears. This taxi driver..." She said as Sherlock got to his feet and walked over towards her.

"Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" Sherlock asked her as John sat down in the chair which Sherlock had just vacated and watched the clock spinning round on the website as it claimed the phone would be located in under three minutes. Sherlock turned to Lestrade suddenly as I walked over to the both of them. "We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter."

Mrs. Hudson looked around anxiously as a man walked slowly up the stairs behind her. That was strange. "We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever," Sherlock said to Lestrade seeming to not notice the man who was on the stairs. Something didn't sit right with me. There was something we were missing.

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name," Lestrade told him sounding tired.

"It's a start!" Sherlock huffed at him as I looked back towards the computer and saw that a map had now appeared and was zooming in on the location of the phone.

"Sherlock, Lexi..." John called and I made a move back over to the computer.

"It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had," Sherlock continued to argue with Lestrade.

"Sherlock..." I called not believing what I was seeing on the screen in front of me.

"What is it? Quickly, where?" He asked us as he hurried across the room to look over our shoulders.

"It's here. It's in 221 Baker Street," John told him sounding surprised. He knew the same thing I did. The phone was most certainly not in this flat earlier. So how in hell was it here now?

"How can it be here? How?" Sherlock asked me as he straightened up. I looked back over to the door where I had heard the man on the stairs who was currently paused and listening to what was going on inside the flat. It made perfect sense to me now. The reason why the phone was here was because the murderer was here. Why did he want to collect Sherlock and me? There had to be more to this.

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere," Lestrade theorized.

"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?" Sherlock scoffed as he turned to look at me and rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, we texted him and he called back," John told Lestrade who turned to his colleagues ignoring us.

"Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim...," Lestrade told them.

I knew he was thinking over the same things I was, the exact questions he had asked John and I earlier. 'Who do we trust, even if we don't know them? Behind Mrs. Hudson, the man reached the top of the stairs. He was wearing a badge in a leather holder on a cord around his neck. The badge was for a licensed London cab driver. 'Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?' 'Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?' Sherlock turned his head still thinking as I blinked. I should have realized it sooner. Suddenly Sherlock's phone and mine trilled a text alert at the same time. We both looked at each other before reaching for our phones and reading the text we had been sent simultaneously. "_**COME WITH ME**_." We shared a look for a brief moment before we both turned our heads towards the door, the taxi driver turned around and calmly headed off down the stairs.

"Sherlock, Lexi you okay?" John asked us as we stared after the man. Taxi drivers, some of the most interesting people you would ever meet.

"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." Sherlock answered him vaguely as we watched the man go.

"Fine," I answered John not trusting myself to say more than that.

"So, how can the phone be here?" John asked us as we still watched the taxi driver.

"Dunno."

John got up to get his own phone out of his jeans pocket. "I'll try it again," He told us.

"Good idea," I told him as Sherlock and I headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked us sounding surprised.

"Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. We won't be long," Sherlock told him as we left the living room and headed down the stairs together only pausing briefly to look at each other.

"You sure you're all right?" John called after us as we hurried down the stairs.

"We're fine," I called back to him as Sherlock and I grabbed our coats from the bannister and pulled them on before stepping outside.

"You figured it out before I did," Sherlock said to me in a hushed tone.

"Only a few second before you did," I whispered back to him as we stood on the doorstep for a second. A taxi was parked at the curb and the driver, a Jeff Hope if his credentials were right, was leaning casually against the side of the cab.

"Taxi for Sherlock 'olmes and Alexandria Mac'enna," He said as Sherlock and I stepped forward. Sherlock closed the door behind us as we stared at the taxi driver.

"We didn't order a taxi," Sherlock told him as he stepped a little bit forward so he was slightly blocking me from view. I looked up at him curiously.

"Doesn't mean you don't need one," The cabbie said with a slight shrug.

"You're the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street. It was you, not your passenger," Sherlock said as he caught up to the place I was. I had only figured it out sooner because I remembered what Sherlock had said.

"See? No one ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like you're invisible. Just the back of an 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer," The cabbie told us with a smile as Sherlock and I took a few more steps forward before Sherlock looked up towards the windows of our flat.

"Is this a confession?" I asked the cabbie, not wanting to admit that I had thought about it being a cabbie. The thought had crossed my mind before outside of Angelo's but I had dismissed it.

"Oh, yeah. An' I'll tell you what else, if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise," The cabbie assured me. There was a catch here and I knew it was coming any second.

"Why?" Sherlock asked him voicing my question.

"'Cause you're not gonna do that," The cabbie said sounding sure of himself.

"We're not?" I asked him raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't kill those four people, Mr. 'olmes, Ms. Mac'enna. I spoke to 'em ... and they killed themselves. An' if you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing,' He said as he leaned forward towards the two of us. "I will never tell you what I said." Sherlock and I stared at him. After a moment he straightened up and started to walk around the front of the cab.

"No one else will die, though, and I believe they call that a result," Sherlock called to him. The cabbie, or Jeff, stopped and turned back to us.

"An' you won't ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?" He asked us as he turned again and continued around to the driver's door. He got in his cab and sat down, settling into his seat and ignoring the two of us. Biting his lip Sherlock walked closer to the cab, looking up again at the flat windows, before he bent down and looked into the open side window of the cab.

"If I wanted to understand, what would I do?" Sherlock asked the cabbie. I was playing over the two decisions in my mind. Logic told me to go and get Lestrade, but I need to know what I had missed. There was something, something missing here and it was important.

"Let me take you for a ride," The cabbie said as he turned to look at Sherlock through the window.

"So you can kill me too?" Sherlock asked him with a bitter laugh.

"I don't wanna kill you, Mr. 'olmes. I'm gonna talk to yer ... and then you're gonna kill yourself. Ms. Mac'enna will too once I talk to her," The cabbie responded before he turned to face the front again.

Sherlock straightened up, his eyes lost in thought as he considered the situation presented to us. Jeff calmly sat gazing out of the front window, then smiles in satisfaction as the rear door opens. Sherlock and I didn't even both to look at each other as we slipped into the back of the cab, Sherlock slamming the door behind us. Jeff started the engine and pulled out on to the street. Things were about to get really interesting. I took my phone out of my pocket and shut it off completely. Mycroft didn't need to know about this.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN) Yup, Sherlock is not the only one to go on a little ride with the cabbie. What does this mean for Lexi? The conclusion of A Study in Pink goes up on Friday, but I have to warn you, the POV skips around a lot in the last chapter. Now, to go write up a nice murder for Sherlock to solve, he is ever so bored.** - KattieHolmes


	9. Paging Doctor Watson

**(A/N) So, the grand conclusion of A Study in Pink in which we learn something rather interesting about Lexi. Virtual cookies who may have been able to guess. I would love to hear your theories after you read the chapter. After this, some domestic Baker Street life and some of my own cases between this case and The Blind Banker. I hope you end up liking those. I'm typing up my second own case right now and then I have two more before The Blind Banker. It's going to be interesting. Thank you to everyone who has read my story! Nearly ten followers in one day. You make me feel so special. Thank you for the lovely review lostfeather. I'm glad you like the story and the evolving relationships. I think you are going to like the next few chapters. **

**Song that inspired the chapter (Is anyone actually listening to these? Eh, if you aren't I don't care. I'm still going to put it) : I Don't Know If I'll Be Back This Time by Sea Wolf**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eight- Paging Dr. Watson<p>

"**What you do in this world is a matter of no consequence. The question is what can you make people believe you have done." **

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet**

**John's POV**

Upstairs, John had his phone held to his ear as he looked out of the window. He watched as Lexi and Sherlock got into the cab before it pulled away.

"They just got in a cab," John said as he turned to Lestrade "Its Sherlock and Lexi. They both just drove off in a cab," He continued. Donovan who was standing next to Lestrade huffed in irritation.

"I told you, they do that," She told John before she turned to Lestrade. "He bloody left again," She told him before she walked back to the kitchen, talking loudly as she went. "We're wasting our time!"

"I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out," John told Lestrade as he frowned.

In the cab, the pink phone started ringing and Sherlock and Lexi watched Jeff as he briefly looked down at it, the phone situated in the well beside his seat. It continued to ring as back in the flat, Lestrade watched John as he continued to hold his phone to his ear.

"If it's ringing, it's not here," Lestrade told him as he looked round the flat.

John lowered his phone and reached for Sherlock's laptop. "I'll try the search again,' John told Lestrade as Donovan came back to confront Lestrade.

"Does it matter? Does any of it? You know, he's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time. And you saw how "Lexi" acted. She's unhinged. You heard what she said on the phone. I keep telling you that she's going to snap one of these days, but you never listen. Now her and him are together," Donovan said tetchily. Lestrade stared at her for a long moment as she held his gaze before he sighed loudly.

"Okay, everybody. Done 'ere," Lestrade called to everyone who started to pack up their stuff. John looked up from the computer in surprised. Sherlock and Lexi mysteriously leave in a cab and no one else cared. John was starting to see why Sherlock and Lexi both seemed to hate Donovan and Anderson. John wasn't sure exactly what was in the book in Lexi's bag, but judging from her near murderous reaction it was really important to her. As for Donovan she constantly bad mouthed the two of them. John felt uncomfortable every time she mentioned Lexi. She called her unhinged, and kept saying something about her snapping one of these days. From what John could see Lexi was a really sweet girl, she was odd yeah, but everyone had their quirks. She had quite a temper, but John chalked that up to her being Irish and a woman to boot. As for Sherlock while he seemed like a right arse, there was something about him that intrigued John Watson, though he couldn't quite place it. They were an odd pair, but for the first time in months… he actually was able to forget the battlefield. Running with Sherlock and Lexi was a battle all on its own.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

"How did you find us?" Sherlock asked the cabbie as I slid my mobile into the inner pocket of my coat. Sherlock was controlling the conversation and if the look he flashed me was any indication, he was trying to pull the cabbie's attention away from me. I wondered just what Mycroft told Sherlock on the phone.

"Oh, I recognized yer, soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Sherlock 'olmes! I was warned about you. I've been on your website, too. Brilliant stuff! Loved it! Was warned about you too Ms. Mac'enna. Very brilliant aren't yer," The cabbie complimented me. One look at Sherlock was enough to tell me that he was seeing the same thing I was. Every time the cabbie spoke, he kept bringing things back around to me. It was then that I realized that I knew the cabbie. He was one of the usual cabbies that drove me. He was a father… so why or when did he become a serial killer? I shuddered a little bit. It was unnerving to think that I had been driven nearly every day by a serial killer.

"Who warned you about us?" Sherlock asked the cabbie as I stared back at the man. I tried to scan him over. There was something I missed. I had never really looked, but now I did. Ah I had been so stupid, terminal illness. That was why he started killing, but why? Why start now?

"Just someone out there who's noticed you. Took quite an interest in you Ms. Mac'enna, noticed yer," The cabbie said and I could see his smile in the review mirror.

"Who?" I asked the cabbie as I leaned forward and looked closely at the side of Jeff's neck. I didn't want him to think he made me uneasy. I noticed the photograph of the young boy and girl that he had attached to the dashboard. That was right he had young children. Mother wasn't in the picture either.

"Who would notice me?" Sherlock asked the cabbie as he copied my movements.

"You're too modest, Mr. 'olmes," Jeff told him as he met his eyes briefly in the rear view mirror.

"I'm really not," Sherlock told him and I snorted. One thing I had come to learn through my association with Mycroft was that a Holmes was never modest.

"You've got yourselves a fan," Jeff told us and Sherlock and I both sat back in our seats at the same time.

"Tell me more,' Sherlock ordered him nonchalantly.

"That's all you're gonna know..." Jeff said before pausing dramatically for a moment. "...in this lifetime," He finished quietly. I snorted and rolled my eyes. Men, they had to be so dramatic. Mycroft could make it seem like the world was ending if he had to do leg work and Sherlock, well Sherlock just seemed to be dramatic about a lot of things. I looked out the window of the cab and stared out at the streets of London that were rushing by. I pulled my phone out and turned it on texting Mycroft two words: _Vatican Cameos._

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

Back at the flat, the other police officers left, but Lestrade lingered as he picked up his coat and turned to John. "Why did they do that? Why did they have to leave?" Lestrade asked John as if he knew the answer.

"You know them better than I do," John told him with a shrug. He had really only known them for what was shaping up to be the most ridiculous day of his life. Between the crime scene, the cab chase throughout London, and a drugs bust at the flat he was considering living in, John was ready to just settle down with a nice hot cuppa. Finding out that Lexi and Sherlock were both former addicts was a bit surprising given the way they acted and their intelligence. Lexi's admission was far more surprising than Sherlock's. John wondered what she meant about not having to know, like she did actually know. John couldn't imagine Lexi coming that close to death, but she did work as a detective before. She must have had some dangerous cases.

"I've known him for five years, Lexi for seven and no, I don't," Lestrade told John with a shake of his head. **(A/N To clear up any confusion, Sherlock worked a year for Lestrade before Lestrade kicked him out to get clean. Lexi then worked for Lestrade for the three years Sherlock was battling his addiction, the years Sherlock really didn't see anyone. Then, Lexi left after those three years to battle her own addictions and Sherlock came back and has been working cases again for Lestrade the last four years. While Lexi was out she still kept in contact with Lestrade. So, they always seemed to miss each other. Highly convenient right?)**

"So why do you put up with them?" John questioned him mildly confused.

"Because I'm desperate, that's why," Lestrade answered him as he walked to the door. He turned back and looked at John. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one. As for Lexi, she's a great woman. She's certainly the most interesting woman you will ever meet, but quite possibly, she can be the greatest woman you will ever meet. Word of advice, Lexi's past is worse than Sherlock's. She changes her mood faster than Sherlock changes his mind. Become her enemy and you'll wish you hadn't, become her friend and she'll never let you down. Just…be patient with her. Sherlock is predictable, but Lexi never is. She has a lot of heart and she seems mental at times, but she means well," Lestrade told John before he turned and left.

John stared at the door for a few minutes. Lexi MacKenna, the way everyone made her sound it was like she was this mystery and quite possibly she was. What had he gotten himself into? John sighed as he turned around and limped over to the window. He looked down at his hand for a second and saw the tremor was back. How was it that two of the strangest people in the world could come into his life like a whirlwind and change everything in his life in just a few hours? There was no question about it, he was taking the room. John looked out of the window and out at the dark, quiet streets of London. Now, only to figure out where Sherlock and Lexi had run off to.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

The cab drove on for a few more blocks and the three of us sat in silence before the cabbie finally pulled to a stop at the front of two identical buildings side by side. Jeff turned off the engine and got out before coming to the passenger door and opening it. He looked in at Sherlock and me expectantly.

"Where are we?" Sherlock asked him as he stared up at him from his seat.

"You two know every street in London. You know exactly where we are," Jeff answered him as his eyes flashed towards me.

"This is the Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here of all places?" I asked the cabbie who smiled back at my answer smugly.

"It's open; cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out," Jeff said and I snorted. It would be like a gang, a gang of killer cabbies. Sometimes the rates they charged felt like murder.

"Yes, and as a detective I know how to murder people in multiple ways. I'm not a serial killer though," I quipped back with a roll of my eyes. The cabbie chuckled at me and I sighed heavily. "So what, you just walk your victims in? How does that work? 'Cos I really don't feel like walking anywhere with you," I continued with a bored look on my face.

"Thought you might say that," Jeff told me as he raised a pistol and pointed it at Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned his head away to look at me.

"Oh, dull,' He said sounding as bored as I was.

"Hmm very original. However, you do realize that I've only just met Sherlock so I have no emotional attachment to him. Pointing a gun at him will not entice me to go anywhere. You could shoot him and it still wouldn't faze me," I drawled out as I started to casually braid my hair out of the way.

"We both know differently though don't we," Jeff said as he pointed the gun at me. "Mr. 'olmes and you are too much alike. He interests you," He continued as he turned the gun back to Sherlock. I raised an eyebrow at him as I threw my braided hair over my shoulder.

"Mmmm," I hummed in a way that made it sound like I was bored rather than agreeing. I tried to make him think he couldn't use us against each other. I wasn't sure if Sherlock would care or not if I got shot, but I would if he did. Unfortunately the cabbie was right, I cared about Sherlock because he interested me. "So what happens now, because this is getting rather boring?" I asked the cabbie with feigned nonchalance. I knew that Mycroft had probably received my text by now. That meant that he was probably searching for where I was and trying to find what kind of situation I was in. We set up our duress code after a slight mishap. If either of us were in danger we would send each other a text. I had only ever received one from Mycroft, and he wasn't even in danger. He just wanted to get out of a meeting with the Belgian Ambassador. I had only ever sent Mycroft a total of two, now three distress texts.

"Don't worry. It gets better," Jeff assured me and I waved my hand that gestured for him to carry on.

"You can't make people take their own lives at gunpoint," Sherlock pointed out sounding bored. I knew that he was only feigning nonchalance. He realized the seriousness of the situation we were in too.

"I don't. It's much better than that," Jeff told us as he lowered the gun. "Don't need this with you two, 'cos you'll follow me," Jeff continued before he confidently walked away. As soon as he was out of ear shot Sherlock turned to me.

"Go to the end of the road and call Mycroft, he'll come and collect you," Sherlock order me. I snorted at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Not going to happen sweetie," I said before I opened my door and slid out of the cab. "You're not the only one working this case Lock," I told him before I closed the door and walked around the front of the cab. I heard Sherlock make sound behind me before I heard his door slam shut and he fell into step beside me. **(A/N Yes, she used an endearment, not the first time it will happen either. And, Sherlock has his nickname! Mycroft got his after two years, Sherlock's after not even two days. What does this tell you?)**

I wanted to know just what it was that Jeff thought he could say to me that would get me to kill myself. My past was haunted by a lot of different things. There was my childhood, my addiction, my time working on cases. There was a lot to choose from. One thing was certain though, I was invested. The only thing I could thank Jeff for was that it was this case that made me realize that I missed what I used to do before.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

Back at 221B, John found himself alone in the flat. He contemplated just going home since it was late and he didn't think Lexi or Sherlock would be coming back anytime soon. He walked towards the living room door, but he paused and looked down, clenching his right hand realizing that he didn't have his walking cane. He looked around the flat and saw the cane lying on top of a box of papers next to the dining table and went over to collect it. Behind him Sherlock's notebook was still on Mephone's website and the clock was spinning on the screen as the site searched for Jennifer Wilson's phone. John picked up the cane and headed for the door again just as the computer beeped triumphantly and a map appeared on the screen and started to zoom in on the location of the phone. John turned back as the computer beeped repeatedly. He hesitated only for a second before he went back to the table and propped his cane against it. It couldn't hurt to at least see where it was. He picked up the notebook and looked at the screen.

The map said the phone was at the Roland-Kerr Further Education College. It had moved nearly clear across the city. How was that even possible? John felt ice in his veins as he finally put the evidence together. The phone was in the flat just before Lexi and Sherlock got into a cab and now it was clear across London. Shit. John turned taking the notebook with him as he hurried out of the door and down the stairs taking them two at a time. He didn't care what happened, he only cared that Lexi and Sherlock were now with the murder. He rushed out of the flat and hailed a cab once again forgetting to take his cane in his haste.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

Jeff opened the door of a room and stood aside so that Sherlock and I could go in. Sherlock looked at him closely but stepped inside the room ahead of me without a word. I raised an eyebrow at Jeff which made him chuckle before I strode past him. He released the door and let it swing closed as he walked over to some switches on the wall and turned on the lights. We were in a large classroom which had long fixed wooden benches and plastic chairs. It reminded me of my Uni days. Of course I studied at the University of Edinburgh rather than here in London. Sherlock walked deeper into the room, looking around as I stood there choosing to scan the room with my eyes instead.

"Well, what do you think?" Jeff asked us. Sherlock raised his hands and shrugged as if to ask, 'What do I think about what?' "It's up to you. You're the ones who are gonna die 'ere," Jeff continued as Sherlock turned his back to him.

"No, I'm not," Sherlock announced confidently.

"I'm interested in what you think you could say to make me want to kill myself," I commented with a sniff which made Jeff the killer cabbie smirk at me.

"That's what they all say," He told me as he gestured to one of the benches. "Shall we talk?" He asked us. Without waiting for a reply he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. Sherlock took a chair from the bench in front, flipped it around and sat down opposite him. He sighed dramatically. Both men turned to me questioningly and I shrugged before pulling out a chair beside Sherlock. I crossed my arms as I sat down before I put my boot clad feet up on the table in front of us.

"Bit risky, wasn't it? Took us away under the eye of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid. And Mrs Hudson will remember you," Sherlock began after he gave a look that questioned my sitting posture.

"You call that a risk? Nah," Jeff told him as he reached into the left pocket of his cardigan. "This is a risk," He continued as he took out two small glass bottles with a screw top on them and put them onto the table in front of him. There was a single large capsule inside the both of them. Sherlock looked at them but didn't react in anyway. I snorted at his definition of a risk. "Ooh, I like this bit. 'Cause you don't get it yet, do yer? But you're about to. I just have to do this," Jeff said with a laugh as he reached into his right pocket, taking out two identical bottles containing identical capsules. He put them both down onto the table beside the first two bottles. "You weren't expecting that, were yer?" Jeff asked us as he leaned forward. "Ooh, you're going to love this."

"Love what?" Sherlock questioned him as I raised an eyebrow as I realized how the game went.

"Sherlock 'olmes. Look at you! 'Ere in the flesh. That website of yours, your fan told me about it," Jeff told him as he leaned back in his chair again.

"My fan?" Sherlock asked him curiously. I was interested to see who had gone to great lengths to get Sherlock's and now my attention. I didn't take cases any more, I was for all extensive purposes, currently, off the grid.

"You are brilliant. You are. A proper genius. "The Science of Deduction." Now that is proper thinking. Between you and me sitting 'ere, why can't people think?" He asked us as he looked down angrily. "Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?" He asked us as he looked up again and diverted his attention to me. I looked back at him for a long moment before Sherlock interrupted us.

"Oh, I see. So you're a proper genius too," Sherlock said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't look it, do I? Funny little man drivin' a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you two ever know," He said as Sherlock held his gaze for a second or two before he looked down to the table.

"Okay, four bottles. Explain," Sherlock ordered him as I removed my feet from the table and sat up straight.

"There's two good bottles and two bad bottles. You two take the pill from the good bottle, you live; take the pill from the bad bottle, you die," Jeff explained to us. I nodded before sighing.

"The four bottles are of course identical so that there is no way we could deduce which is the good and which is the bad. A bit boring, but nice touch," I said as I eyed the bottles. Jeff chuckled at me.

"He said you were a funny one. You interest him. Shame about your accident, he wasn't quite happy about that," Jeff said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, sorry to disappoint," I told him before I brought the subject back around to the bottles rather than on me. "You know which is which, but we don't," I clarified.

"Wouldn't be a game if you knew. You're the ones who choose," Jeff told us as he continued to smirk at me.

"Why should I? I've got nothing to go on. What's in it for me?" Sherlock asked him as I folded my hands steepling my index fingers under my nose as if I was making a shushing gesture with both hands. We were about to play a deadly game. Of course I could just walk away and leave Sherlock to his own devices. Part of me wanted to play the game though.

"I 'aven't told you the best bit yet. Whatever bottle you two choose, I take the pill from the other ones…and then, together, we take our medicine," Jeff told us. Sherlock started to grin, seemingly interested now. "I won't cheat. It's your choice. I'll take whatever pill you two don't," Jeff assured us. Sherlock looked down at the bottles, concentrating properly now. "Didn't expect that, did you, Mr. 'olmes? But you did, ain't that right Ms. Mac'enna?"

"Naturally, once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," I said cryptically as a response quoting Sherlock's third bullet point on his website in my own words. Jeff smirked as he realized what I had done.

"This is what you did to the rest of them, you gave them a choice," Sherlock stated suddenly. Jeff and I turned to look at Sherlock. I looked down at the pocket that held my phone from a brief second before looking up quickly again so as not to give things away. Mycroft was slow which meant that he didn't know where I was and was having trouble finding me. My phone didn't have GPS in it, a requirement I had insisted on when Mycroft gave me the phone. I had told him he already had enough ways to track me without it. Now that I was working cases again, having a GPS in my phone seemed like a good idea. I would ask Mycroft about it later.

"And now I'm givin' you two one," Jeff told us as he watched the both of us intently. "You two take your time. Get yourselves together," Jeff told us as he licked his lips in anticipation. "I want your best game."

"It's not a game. It's chance," Sherlock said sarcastically. Oh yes, lets goad the killer cabbie.

"I've played four times. I'm alive. It's not chance, Mr. 'olmes, its chess. It's a game of chess, with one move, and one survivor. And this ... this ... is the move," Jeff said as he slid a bottle across the table towards Sherlock and I. He licked his top lip as he pulled his hand back leaving the bottles in front of us. "Did I just give you the good bottle or the bad bottle? You can choose either one. One of you might live and one of you might die. Be interesting to see which one of you gets it right," Jeff said with a little smirk. I looked at the bottles in front of us, Mycroft better get here soon.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

John sat in the back of a taxi with the computer notebook open on his lap. He had been trying to get a hold of Lestrade for the last few minutes, but he kept getting redirected to other people.

"No, Detective Inspector Lestrade. I need to speak to him. It's important. It's an emergency!" John angrily said into the phone. No one seemed to want to put him through to Lestrade. He was getting absolutely nowhere. He still had his gun on him though.

"Er, left here, please. Left here," John directed the cabbie as he checked the map on the netbook. If the police didn't want to help than he would just have to do this alone. John only hoped he wasn't too late to help them.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

"You ready yet, Mr. 'olmes? Ms. Mac'enna? Ready to play?" Jeff asked us growing a little impatient.

"Play what? It's a fifty-fifty chance," Sherlock quipped. I knew that while he was curious, this wasn't generally his thing. He preferred logic over chance.

"You're not playin' the numbers, you're playin' me. Did I just give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff? Or a double-bluff? Or a triple-bluff?" Jeff asked us as I picked up one of the bottles and looked at it. Sherlock watched me curiously.

"You know, no matter how you say it, it's still just chance," I told Jeff as I looked over the top of the bottle.

"Four people in a row? It's not just chance," Jeff scoffed as I continued to study the bottle.

"Luck," Sherlock told him.

"It's genius. I know 'ow people think," Jeff insisted. I looked over the bottle gain and watched as Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I know 'ow people think I think. I can see it all, like a map inside my 'ead." Sherlock looked exasperated while I cocked me head to the side thoughtfully. "Everyone's so stupid…even you," Jeff continued before he looked at me. "Not you though, he says you are smarter than you let on. Says you are unpredictable." Sherlock's gaze sharpened. "Or maybe God just loves me," Jeff finished as Sherlock straightened up and leaned forwards, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

"Either way, you're wasted as a cabbie," He said with a small smirk on his face. Both men regarded each other as I looked down at the bottle still in my hands. We couldn't stall forever, sooner or later we would have to make a choice.

Four bottles all identical, containing identical capsules. He claimed two were good while two were bad. 'Never bet against a Sicilian when death is on the line.' Four times he played the game and all four times he had survived. Either he was really lucky or he found another way to survive. Oh clever…he built up an immunity to the poison. It was easy enough to do. It was like one of my experiments when I had taken small doses of a paralytic drug to build up an immunity to the effects of it. It came in handy once during a case. So, he could take the pill and survive, but everyone else would die. This was going to get really interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

John got out of the cab in front of the Roland-Kerr College. He paid the cabbie before quickly slipping out of the cab with Sherlock's laptop in hand. As the taxi pulled away, John tucked the notebook into his jacket and looked at the two identical buildings in front of him. The map wasn't specific enough to tell him which building the phone was in. He had to make a choice. John took a deep breath before he made his choice and rushed towards the buildings. He only hoped that he had made the right choice.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV <strong>

I watched as Sherlock lifted his folded hands in front of his mouth and gazed at Jeff intently. "So, you risked your life four times just to kill strangers. Why?" Sherlock asked him.

"Yeah, I was wondering where the whole killer cabbie thing came in 'cos you've driven me before," I said as I put the bottle back down in front of me. It didn't matter which one I chose, they were all the same and they all could kill me.

Jeff nodded down to the bottles ignoring my comment. Sherlock looked surprised by this bit of information. "Time to play," He told us.

Sherlock unfolded his fingers and adopted the prayer position in front of his mouth. "Oh, I am playing. This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. "Traces of where it's happened before, so obviously you live on your own; there's no-one to tell you," Sherlock continued as I watched Jeff trying not to fidget under Sherlock's gaze.

"I remember, you told me you had two children. Your wife left you and you don't get to see your children often, but you miss them a lot more than you let on," I said as I scrunched up my face in thought. Jeff's gaze slid away from me and for the first time I saw a hint of pain in his eyes.

"Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts,' Sherlock said as he extended his index fingers. "Ah, but there's more," Sherlock continued as Jeff lifted his head and gazed back to Sherlock as he pointed his index fingers towards them. "Your clothes, recently laundered but everything you're wearing's at least ... three years old? Keeping up appearances but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about?" Sherlock asked him. Jeff had gotten control of himself again and his expression gave away nothing as he gazed back at Sherlock.

"Three years ago that's when they told you isn't it?" I asked him softly suddenly realizing what would make a man who didn't seem the type suddenly go on a killing spree.

"Told me what?" Jeff asked me flatly.

"That you're a dead man walking," Sherlock answered him cutting me off. I looked at Sherlock angrily. Yes, he was a murderer, but I pitied him as much as a sociopath could. He was a father and he loved his children. He was more than my father ever was.

"So are you," Jeff quipped back.

"You don't have long, though. Am I right?" Sherlock asked him. Jeff smiled before he sighed.

"Aneurism," He told us as he raised his right hand and tapped the side of his head. "Right in 'ere," Jeff continued as Sherlock smiled in satisfaction at having made the right deduction. I grimaced, sometimes it wasn't fun to be right. "Any breath could be my last."

"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people," Sherlock stated as he frowned again.

"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can 'ave on an aneurism," Jeff told him. I shook my head. This wasn't just about fun or about outliving people. He cared about his children, this had something to do with them.

"No, nice try though. You see I would have believed you if I hadn't taken your cab before. I remember everything. You couldn't stop talking about your children. I remember because I thought it was sweet to see a father so dedicated to his children,' I said as I leaned forward and studied the man who turned his full attention to me. "You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a much more vicious motivator. This is about your children. They're the only thing that truly matters to you. Your life, that's hardly worth anything, but your children, you'd do anything for them. You'd even kill four people for them," I finished as I watched him closely for his reaction.

Jeff looked away and sighed. "Ohh," He said before he looked back at me. "You are good, ain't you? He said you were. You're right though. When I die, they won't get much, my kids. Not a lot of money in driving cabs," Jeff told me and I nodded slowly. I thought as much.

"Or serial killing," Sherlock added after a silent second.

"You'd be surprised."

"Surprise me," Sherlock shot back. Jeff leaned forward grinning.

"I 'ave a sponsor," He told us triumphantly.

"You have a what?" Sherlock asked him in disbelief.

"For every life I take, money goes to my kids. The more I kill, the better off they'll be. You see? It's nicer than you think," Jeff told us with another grin.

"Who'd sponsor a serial killer?" Sherlock asked him with a frown. Yes, who exactly. More than likely someone who you never wanted to meet.

"Who'd be a fan of Sherlock 'olmes?" Jeff replied instantly. Both men stared at each other for a moment. The testosterone in the room was a little overwhelming. Men liked to challenge each other while women had to keep the level head in situations like this. "You're not the only one to enjoy a good murder. There's others out there just like you, except you're just a man ... and they're so much more than that."

The side of Sherlock's nose twitched in distaste. "What d'you mean, more than a man? An organization? What?"

"There's a name no-one says, an' I'm not gonna say it either," Jeff said before I interrupted him with a well-timed comment.

"Voldemort?" I asked him hopefully, if anything just to stall a little longer. Sherlock and Jeff both turned to me, Sherlock to glare and Jeff to look at me with amusement. He chuckled as I shrugged back at Sherlock. What, I was buying us more time by interrupting.

"He said you was funny like that, always making jokes. Told me I would have to keep a close watch on ya. Now, enough chatter." Jeff told us as he nodded down to the bottles. "Time to choose." Sherlock looked down to the bottles, finally breaking eye contact with me, his eyes moving from one to the other. I wouldn't be able to tell him that they were all poison without alerting Jeff that I had figured it out. This was a game we couldn't win. I held onto my composure as I looked between Sherlock and Jeff. This wasn't the first time I had played the deadly game.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

Elsewhere in the college, John was madly running through the corridors in a desperate attempt to find Sherlock and Lexi before he was too late. There was just something about the pair of them. Sherlock was arrogant and a right arse and Lexi was quirky and fun loving. John had smiled when he watched her run ahead of them. She looked so happy as if she had never known such freedom.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John called out as he ran from door to door, trying them and peering through windows.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" He called out again a little more urgently. John felt numb as he kept on searching for them. What if they were already dead? No, they were here somewhere and he would find them. He had to find them.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

"What if I don't choose either? I could just walk out of here," Sherlock stated. Jeff sighed in a combination of exasperation and disappointment as he lifted up the pistol and pointed it at Sherlock.

"Mmmm, I was thinking the same thing. Cause… not that this is not extremely interesting, but I'm not really sold on the whole idea. Besides, what girl has the time to die? I think I'm due to wash my hair and call my friends to chat about boys," I said as I put my feet up on the desk again and leaned back in my chair. I had to buy us as much time as I could until Mycroft could get here. By now he should have found where I was and sent someone.

"You can take your fifty-fifty chance, or I can shoot you in the head," Jeff told me as he rounded to gun on me. "Funnily enough, no-one's ever gone for that option."

"And here I was thinking we were just started getting better acquainted," I said as I sighed dramatically. Sherlock was watching me curiously as he tried to figure out where I was going with this. "You know what? I'll have the gun, please," I said as I uncrossed my legs and sat up straight again.

"Are you sure?" Jeff asked me sounding surprised by my choice.

"Definitely, I'm not into the whole poison thing. Just say no to drugs, you know?" I said and I saw Sherlock's mouth twitch up into a smirk from the corner of my eyes. "Yeah laugh it up Holmes," I shot at him before turning back to Jeff, flashing him a falsely cheerful grin. "The gun," I told him with a nod.

"You don't wanna phone a friend?" Jeff asked me. I smiled back at him confidently before making a gesture with my hand for him to go ahead.

"The gun. Could we hurry this up a bit? 'Cos the suspense is killing me more than you seem to be." Jeff's mouth tightened, and slowly he squeezed the trigger. A small flame bursts out of the end of the muzzle. I snorted before grinning slightly smugly. "I know a real gun when I see one," I told Jeff with a shake of my head. "Really it was obvious." Jeff calmly lifted the pistol/cigarette lighter and released the trigger. The flame went out

"None of the others realized it," Jeff said sounding slightly impressed.

"Mmm, but if you've learnt anything from this it's that Sherlock and I aren't like the others," I pointed out to Jeff. Normal people saw a gun and immediately they would do whatever you told them too. They wouldn't even look at the gun closely enough to see that it looked wrong. They would rather take a fifty fifty chance at living than a guaranteed death sentence.

"Clearly," Sherlock said with a little smirk. Well, this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case," Sherlock continued as we both stood up and walked towards the door. Jeff put the gun onto the desk and calmly turned in his seat.

"Just before you go, did you figure it out...," Jeff called to us just as we reached the door. Sherlock and I stopped and half-turned back towards him. "...which one's the good bottle?"

"Of course. Child's play," Sherlock bragged as Jeff's gaze slid to me awaiting my answer.

"I figured it out as you two were talking," I admitted truthfully. I knew that he would think that I had believed his whole lie about there being a good bottle and a bad one. He was too sure of himself to think that someone would see right through him.

"Well, which one, then?" Jeff asked us as Sherlock opened the door a little. He showed no sign of leaving the room as I turned back to Jeff. "Which one would you 'ave picked, just so I know whether I could have beaten you?" Jeff challenged us. Sherlock closed the door again. "Come on. Play the game," Jeff ordered us as he chuckled.

Slowly Sherlock walked back towards him. When he got to the table, he reached out and swept up the bottle nearest to Jeff, then walked past him. I looked back at Jeff before walking forward and picking up the bottle that had been in front of me. Jeff looked down at the two remaining bottles with interest but his voice gave nothing away as he spoke.

"Oh. Interesting," He said as he picked up the other bottles as Sherlock looked down at the bottle in his own hand. There was not stopping this now.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

Out in the corridors, John was still running along and searching frantically for Lexi and Sherlock. He kept hoping that he would open a door and find the red headed Irish girl and the dark haired detective. With every door that led to an empty room he felt his stomach drop out.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

Jeff opened his bottles and tipped the capsules out into his hand. He held them up and looked at them closely as he pinched the two pills between his fingers. Sherlock examined his own bottle closely. I did even both taking a second look at the pill that was going to end of killing me. They said drugs lead you to an early grave, guess I got to find that out. I could still walk away though. I could leave Sherlock behind. A little voice in my head told me I should do that, that it would be what Mycroft wanted me to do since I couldn't convince Sherlock to stop being an idiot, but the larger part of me couldn't walk away from him. If he was going to do this, I would be right here with him. For some reason, I just couldn't walk away from him. It was like I had been meant to meet him, meant to meet John. The consulting detective and the army doctor, two men who were nothing alike who had changed my life for the better in just the short time I had known them. I couldn't remember feeling as happy as I did now in a long time, even if I was facing imminent death. Sherlock reminded me how it felt to be solving cases, the thrill of making that first deduction, the freedom of just being myself. John on the other hand showed me the understanding and the kindness I had started to think people no longer had. It give me hope that not everyone would think I was the freak. I was so alone before and I honestly owed them so much. They had, somehow, saved me from myself and with no more than just being who they were. So no, I couldn't just leave Sherlock. We were in this together until the very end of the case.

"So what d'you think?" Jeff asked us as he looked up at us. "Shall we? Really, what do you think?" He asked us as he stood up and face the both of us. "Can you beat me?"

"Are you clever enough to bet your life?" Jeff asked us. I looked down at me bottle.

Of course he would try and appeal to our ego. I didn't need to prove anything though. I never had, which is why I silently made my deductions and kept what I found to myself for the most part. This was a dangerous game and only one person would walk away from it and that person would certainly not be Sherlock or I. Wouldn't be the first time I risked my life on a case. Strange how this would be the one that ended things.

* * *

><p><strong>John's POV<strong>

John burst through a door and stared ahead of him as he finally saw who he was looking for. His eyes fill with horror as he took in the scene in front of him. John watched as Sherlock lifted his gaze from the bottle he was holding.

"SHERLOCK! LEXI!" John cried out in horror as he stood watching the scene unfolding in the class room across the way through the window. He didn't have time to get to them. He pulled out his gun and waited. They wouldn't be stupid enough to take the pill… would they?

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

"I bet you get bored, don't you? I know you do. A man like you and a woman of your intellect…" Jeff said as he held his own pill. Sherlock and I unscrewed the lids of our bottles in unison. "... so clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it?" Jeff continued as Sherlock and I took out the capsules and held them between our thumbs and index fingers. Sherlock raised his to the light to examine it more closely. "Still the addicts," Jeff carried on as Sherlock lowered his pill and held it at eye level, gazing at it. "But this ... this is what you're really addicted to, innit?" Jeff asked us as Sherlock continued to stare at his pill. I looked down at it remembering the last time I had come so close to death. "You'd do anything ... anything at all..." Jeff said as I laughed to myself. I once thought the needle would be my end, but now it was a tiny little capsule. "...to stop being bored," Jeff finished as Sherlock and I slowly began to move the pills closer to our mouths. Jeff matched our movements with his own pill. "You're not bored now, are you?" Jeff asked us as the three of us raised our pills to our lips. "Innit good?" Jeff asked us before a gunshot suddenly rang out through the room.

In my surprise I dropped my pill as I let out a strangled cry. The bullet impacted Jeff's chest close to his heart before going through his body and smashing into the door behind him. He fell to the floor as Sherlock dropped his own pill in surprise. In the opposite building, John had his pistol still raised and aimed out of the window. He lowered the gun to his side. Sherlock turned and slid over the desk behind him and hurried to the window, bending down to stare through the bullet hole in the glass. I hurried over to his side and looked across to the other building. The window of the opposite room was open but there is nobody in sight. Sherlock and I straightened up before we heard Jeff breathing heavily and coughing. We turned back in unison, looking around the room and seeing two of the pills lying on the desk as Jeff convulsed on the floor and gasped and coughed in pain. Sherlock strode away from me and snatched up on of the pills, kneeling down and brandishing it at Jeff, who had a large pool of blood underneath him and was staring up at him in shock.

"Was I right?" Sherlock demanded him. Jeff turned his head away in disbelief. "I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?" Sherlock demanded more forcefully. Jeff didn't reply and Sherlock angrily hurled the pill across the room and stood up. "Okay, tell me this, your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me…my 'fan'. I want a name."

"No," Jeff told him weakly as I walked forward and stood beside Sherlock looking down at the man. A shot over that distance and window of opportunity had to mean that the shooter was skilled. Not one of Mycroft's men though, this was someone different.

"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name,' Sherlock order him again. Jeff shook his head. Grimacing angrily, Sherlock lifted his foot and put it on Jeff's shoulder. Jeff gasped out in pain. I winced. "A name," Sherlock ordered as Jeff cried out in pain. "Now." Still Jeff refused to answer him and only whined in pain. Sherlock's face looked intent and manic as he leaned his weight onto his foot causing Jeff to whimper.

"The NAME!" Sherlock shouted at him furiously.

"MORIARTY!" Jeff cried out in agony before his eyes closed and his head rolled to the side. Sherlock stepped back turning his head away and looking reflective. After a few seconds, he silently mouthed the word 'Moriarty' to himself.

"Have you heard the name before?" Sherlock asked me suddenly. I blinked back at him in surprise, still a little shocked about everything that had just happened. It was completely unexpected, especially since I knew that wasn't one of Mycroft's men.

"No," I answered him slowly as I got a handle on myself again. I didn't know the name, at least I couldn't place it to a face, but it did sound familiar "But, I can tell you, whoever they are, they're Irish. I think I've heard the name before too, but I'm not sure where," I told him before the sound of sirens cut us off. The sound grew louder until the room reflected the blue and red lights of police cars. "Hmm Mycroft is getting slow," I remarked as we heard the door burst open from somewhere in the college.

"You told him where we were?" Sherlock asked me sounding mildly annoyed.

"Not exactly, I texted him our code word. He knew to find me," I told Sherlock as the door suddenly burst open and Lestrade, Donovan, and a few other officers came into the room all guns blazing. Lestrade looked between the body on the ground and us before he lowered his gun.

"Bloody hell what happened?" Lestrade asked us as he ordered everyone to stand down.

Sherlock explained everything that had happened from us leaving the flat to the cabbie getting shot by a mysterious sniper. He brushed over a few of the finer details which I knew Lestrade would notice. He seemed to be being lenient for the most part. We were forced to get checked out in an ambulance. Sherlock and I sat side by side as EMTs forcibly looked us over. I complied, but complained through the entire process. They seemed to think we would suddenly go into shock so they draped hideous orange blankets over our shoulders. No matter how many times we shrugged them off, they kept putting them back. Lestrade walked over to us just as the paramedic put the blanket back around my shoulders for the third time. Sherlock gestured to our blankets as he looked at Lestrade.

"Why have we got these blankets? They keep putting these blankets on us," Sherlock whined as I threw the blanket off of me for the fourth time.

"Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade told us. I sighed loudly and rolled my eyes at Greg.

"We're not in shock. We're perfectly fine," I told Lestrade as I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

"Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs," Lestrade told me as he grinned. Sherlock and I looked at each other despairingly before rolling our eyes at Lestrade in unison. I saw Lestrade cringe when he noticed us do this. Get used to it Greg, I thought as I smiled at the man cheekily.

"So, the shooter. No sign?" Sherlock asked him changing the subject.

"Cleared off before we got 'ere. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but ...," Greg said with a shrug. "...got nothing to go on."

Sherlock looked at him pointedly as I snorted and raised my eyebrow gesturing between Sherlock and myself. "Seriously Greg? You have nothing to go on. Do you forget you are in the presence of greatness?" I asked him with a cheeky grin. I caught Sherlock's smug smirk beside me. Now it was Lestrade's turn to roll his eyes.

"Okay, gimme," Lestrade relented as I hopped off the back of the ambulance while Sherlock stood up beside me.

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a hand gun. Kill shot over that distance from that kind of a weapon…that's a crack shot you're looking for, but not just a marksman; a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence. He didn't fire until we were in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service...,' Sherlock started as we both looked around the area. Our eyes both fell on John who was standing some distance away behind the police tape. "... and nerves of steel...," He continued before trailing off. John looked back at the two of us innocently than turned his head away. It was John who made the shot that saved our lives. Lestrade turned to follow our gaze but Sherlock turned back to him before he could start to ask questions.

"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me," Sherlock told him suddenly.

"Sorry?" Lestrade asked him dumbfounded as I turned away from John. I couldn't even begin to consider what he had done for us.

"Ignore all of that. It's just the, er, the shock talking," Sherlock told him as we both started walking towards John.

"Where're you going?" Lestrade asked us as we continued to walk away from him.

"We just need to talk about the rent Greg," I answered him nonchalantly.

"But I've still got questions for you," Lestrade called after us. Sherlock turned back to him in irritation and I turned around slowly on my heel to face Lestrade again.

"Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket!" Sherlock snapped at him as he brandished the sides of his blanket at Lestrade as if to prove his point.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade called in exasperation.

"And we just caught you a serial killer ... more or less," Sherlock finished. Lestrade looked at us thoughtfully for a moment.

"Okay. We'll bring you in tomorrow. Off you go, "Lestrade told us. I beamed at him before turning around and heading off in John's direction again. Sherlock took the blanket from his shoulders as we walked and bundled it up as we approached John who was standing at the side of a police car. Sherlock tossed the blanket through the open window of the car before he lifted up the police tape and ducked under it with me.

"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the four pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful," John started as we walked up to him. Sherlock and I looked at him for a moment in silence.

"Good shot," Sherlock complimented him quietly.

"Excellent marksmanship," I told John knowingly.

"Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window," John said trying and utterly failing to look innocent

"Well, you'd know," I told John with a laugh as I nudged him in his good arm playfully. John gazed at us still trying unsuccessfully to not let his expression give him away.

"Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case," Sherlock told John as his eyes zeroed in on John's hands.

"I hear the paperwork is astronomical though. It's the only thing that keeps me from shooting Anderson,' I said crinkling my nose up as John cleared his throat and looked around nervously.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked him sounding actually concerned.

"Yes, of course I'm all right," John told him as if that was self-explanatory.

"Well, you did just kill someone," I pointed out to John with a slight quirk of my eyebrow.

"Yes, I ...," John said before he trailed off. "That's true, innit?" John asked us as he smiled. We watched him carefully for any signs of shock. "But he wasn't a very nice man," John finished. No signs of shock, he was fine then again, he had been in the military. Sherlock nodded in agreement as I hummed my own agreement.

"No. No, he wasn't really, was he?" Sherlock asked him thoughtfully.

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie," John joked. Sherlock and I chuckled before we tuned and led John away from the crime scene.

"That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!" Sherlock joked back. John and I giggled as Sherlock smiled.

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!" John chastised us. I rolled my eyes at him before I slipped my arm into his.

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame us," I told John who shushed me quickly.

"Keep your voice down!" John hissed as we walked past Sergeant Donovan. "Sorry…it's just, um, nerves, I think," John told Donovan sheepishly. She shot him a dirty look.

"Sorry," Sherlock told her as I waved her a mock salute. John cleared his throat as we walked away from Donovan.

"You were gonna take those damned pills, weren't you?" John asked us suddenly. Sherlock and I turned back to him.

"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up," Sherlock told him and I snorted at his bold faced lie. He was going to take the pill whether I decided to play the game with him or not. John turned to me for my answer. I sighed before smiling at him again.

"Same as Sherlock, I knew you would turn up eventually. Of course you could have been a bit more punctual," I said as I shrugged. John looked between the both of us and shook his head in exasperation.

"No you didn't, neither of you knew I would show up. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your lives to prove you're clever," John shot back at us as he stopped walking causing me to have to come to a stop beside him.

"Why would we do that?" Sherlock asked him with one raised eyebrow.

"Because you're idiots," John told us. Sherlock and I smiled in delight, we had finally found someone who could understand us. After a moment Sherlock forced his smile down, but I was still beaming away.

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked us still smirking slightly.

"Starving," John told him as I nodded in agreement. We turned and started to walk again as I linked arms with the army doctor. We looked at each other and I grinned as I leaned into him and giggled. This had been quite a night and a marvellous first introduction.

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle," Sherlock educated us. I looked up at the sound of a cat pulling up in front of us. I watched as the door to the black car opened and Mycroft stepped out of the back seat.

John stared at him "Sherlock, Lexi. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about," John hissed as Sherlock looked across at the man.

"I know exactly who that is," Sherlock told John as he walked closer to Mycroft and stopped looked at him angrily. John glanced round to gauge where the police were in case he needed to summon their help. I laughed before disentangling my arm from John's and walking causally over to Mycroft and Sherlock.

"So, another case cracked. How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft said pleasantly enough.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock bit out angrily.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you. Lexi also texted me that she was in a situation that needed my attention. I was concerned about the both of you," Mycroft told Sherlock calmly.

"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'," Sherlock said snidely with a slight sneer.

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" Mycroft asked him. I sighed at the childish behaviour they were displaying.

"Oddly enough, no!" Sherlock told him his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy," Mycroft said and I watched John frown. I laughed which drew Mycroft's attention. John hadn't figured out they were brothers yet.

"I upset her? Me?" Sherlock asked him. Mycroft glowered back at him. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"Actually you both upset her," I told them and both men snapped their heads towards me. "She told me about your whole little feud. Mummy isn't happy with either of you."

"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked in exasperation as he tried to follow what was going on.

"Mother… our mother. Well mine and his. This is my brother, Mycroft," Sherlock told John as John stared back at Mycroft in amazement.

"Putting on weight again?" Sherlock asked Mycroft suddenly.

"Losing it, in fact," Mycroft shot back with a tight lipped smile.

"He's your brother?!" John asked still sounding shocked.

'Of course he's my brother," Sherlock gritted out with a sigh.

"So he's not..." John began before trailing off.

"Not what?" Sherlock asked him as the brothers looked at John who shrugged in embarrassment.

"I dunno…criminal mastermind?" John asked, grimacing at having even suggested it. Sherlock looked at Mycroft disparagingly.

"Close enough."

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government," Mycroft told him and I snorted.

"Yeah Croft, like anyone is going to believe that," I told him as I patted his shoulder. He looked down at me despairingly.

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis," Sherlock told John. Mycroft sighed heavily one that I was altogether too used to and he only used when he was really exasperated.

"I still don't get how Lexi knows him," John pointed out and I looked over at him and shrugged.

"I've known Croft for four years now. I snuck into a government party, it was love at first sight," I told John laughing as Mycroft glared at me.

"Very amusing," Mycroft told me and I shrugged at him.

"I'm just emphasizing our close bond. We're so close you practically know what I am doing at any given moment of the day. No wait…you do," I said with a bit of sarcasm. Mycroft sighed again as Sherlock smirked.

"Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic," Sherlock told him before he walked away. John started to follow him, but then he turned back to Mycroft who had turned to watch Sherlock as he walked away.

"So, when…when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked him with a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, of course," Mycroft told him as I slipped my arm into Mycroft's.

"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?"

"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners," Mycroft told him as he continued to watch Sherlock; retreating form. I laughed and shook my head. That would be something I would pay good money to see.

"Yeah ... no. God, no!" John said in horror as he half turned to follow Sherlock. "I-I'd better, um ..." He continued as he turned back to Anthea who was standing nearby with her eyes fixed in her BlackBerry. "Hello again," He told her. She looked up and smiled at him brightly.

"Hello," She said before she turned back to her phone.

"Yes, we-we met earlier on this evening," John told her. She stared at him as if she had never seen him before, but reacted as if she was trying to pretend that she remembered him.

"Oh!"

"Okay, good night," He told her including Mycroft in his glance before he turned and followed after Sherlock.

"Good night, Doctor Watson," Mycroft called to him before turning to me. "Would you like a ride back to your flat?" He asked me and I shook my head.

"No, I'm good. I'm actually going to go and catch up with them," I told Mycroft before I gave him a one armed hug which he stiffly returned. "By Anthea," I called over my shoulder.

"Bye Lexi," She called looking up from her phone with a beaming smile. I ran after Sherlock and John, pushing my way between them and sliding my arms through there's.

"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies," Sherlock was saying as I caught up with them. I snorted at the conversation I had walked into.

"No you can't," John told him pointedly as he looked over at me with a grin on his face. I giggled and skipped between them, happy to have my boys, one on either side of me.

"Almost can. You did get shot, though," Sherlock said suddenly changing the subject.

"Sorry?" John asked him confused.

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"Oh, yeah. Shoulder," John told us sheepishly.

"Your shoulder? How does getting shot in the shoulder give you a psychosomatic limp?" I asked John with a laugh and he shot me a withering look.

"Shoulder! I thought so," Sherlock cried triumphantly, ignoring what I had just said. To be fair I had a really good point. How did getting shot in the shoulder give someone a limp? It made no since at all. Of course it could have been related to PTSD, but John really didn't have any of that. He missed the battle.

"No you didn't," John told him and I rolled my eyes. Oh so he could answer him, but when I made a valid point I was ignored. Fine Watson, be that way.

"The left one," Sherlock told him.

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes you do," John told him with a laugh as he looked past me to find that Sherlock was smiling. "What are you so happy about?" John questioned him as he looked at me quizzically.

"Moriarty," Sherlock told John. I looked over at Sherlock and we shared a look of understanding.

"What's Moriarty?" John asked us curiously.

"I've absolutely no idea," Sherlock told him cheerfully.

Moriarty, the name rang a bell, but I couldn't remember where I had heard it before. It was defiantly Irish. Maybe it was someone I knew before or had met? They seemed to know who I was from back when I worked cases. Who would go to all these lengths? I wasn't so sure I wanted to find out who it was. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

* * *

><p><strong>Mycroft's POV<strong>

Back at the car, Anthea turned to Mycroft who was still watching the trio as they walked away. "Sir, shall we go?" Anthea asked him.

"Interesting, that soldier fellow," Mycroft remarked. Anthea looked up briefly at the departing trio before she turned her attention back to her BlackBerry. "He could be the making of my brother and Lexi…or make them worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade Three Active."

Anthea looked up from her beloved phone with a look of confusion. "Sorry, sir. Whose status?"

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria MacKenna, and Doctor Watson," Mycroft told her before turning and slipping back into his car. There was one things Mycroft Holmes was certain of and that was that the game had only just begun.


	10. The Resident Sociopaths of 221B

Chapter Nine- The Resident Sociopaths of 221B

**Lexi's POV**

An hour later found the three of us sitting in a corner of the Chinese restaurant at the end of Baker Street, the Orient Express. It was just past one in the morning and I sat beside Sherlock and John chewing slowly on some Lo Mein noodles. Sherlock was picking at his Moo shu pork, but John was eating with gusto. After a few minutes he was the first to break the companionable silence we had settled in.

"So you know Mycroft?" John asked me as he chewed on a piece of chicken. I shrugged. Knew was a relative term. Sure, I knew him but I didn't know him. Mycroft wasn't one to have long discussions on personal matters. I knew a few things about his childhood from talking with Mummy Holmes once or twice, but every meeting with him stayed strictly business like.

"Yeah. I was working on a case when we first met. You might remember it from the news. The government worker who murdered his wife after he found out she was cheating on him with someone else in the government. It was one of my last few cases," I explained as I sat back in my chair and pushed my food away from me. "I found out about this huge government party and managed to sneak in. Everyone else bought that I was the daughter of the French Ambassador, but Mycroft saw right through me. He walked over to me and started deducing me before he showed me to the door. After that I had lovely black cars following me around the city until I met him for a second time. He does love to be dramatic, Mummy said he always was as a child," I finished, flashing a smile in Sherlock direction. He smirked back at me, ah we were getting somewhere. He was fine talking about Mycroft so long as we were making comments at his expense.

"You know there mother then?" John asked me with a laugh. I giggled back as Sherlock glared at me. Okay so apparently knowing your flatmates mother was a little odd, especially when you had only just met. I blamed it on Mycroft for not leaving me alone.

"I've never met her in person, but I have talked with her over the phone. Mostly we talked about Croft. She told me all about what he was like as a child. I've never seen a man turn such a delightful shade of red before," I remarked as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and read the text before sending a quick thank you in reply. Mycroft had come through for me and gotten all my old case stuff moved to Sherlock's and now my new flat. I stood up in excitement wanting to get my hands on all of my old stuff that I had Mycroft pack away for me.

"Where's the fire?" John asked me with a raised eyebrow as I slipped my phone in my pocket and walked around the two men heading for the door.

"The flat," I told him with a grin as I pushed open the door. I started off down the street towards the flat, pulling my jacket closer to me as the chilly night air assaulted me again. I hadn't gotten far before Sherlock and John fell into step beside me. We walked the length of Baker Street in silence and when we came to the door of 221B, Sherlock knocked on the door.

We waited on the door step for a few seconds before Mrs Hudson let us in side tittering over us and about the cold outside. She claimed we would catch our deaths if we stayed out there any longer, a comment which made Sherlock and I smirk. I took the stairs two at a time as I raced up to the flat and walked through the open living room door. The box was waiting for me on Sherlock's chair and I rushed over to it. Inside was my chemistry equipment and some of my old equipment that I used to bring on cases as well as a few of my case files from my last few cases. What caught my eye more was the black case leaning up against the chair, I bent to pick it up and rested it against the top of the box before clicking open the latches. I pulled out my polished viola that Mycroft had brought along for me. I noted that it looked like Mycroft had it cleaned before bringing it over. I smiled as I lifted it to my shoulder and drew the bow across the strings experimentally. It had been a while since I last played. I smiled in satisfaction as I placed the instrument back in its case. He hat it tuned too. He must have known that I would want to get into playing it again.

"You play the violin too?" I heard John ask behind me. I turned around with a smile on my face as I found John and Sherlock watching me from the doorway. Sherlock was looking at the box of stuff Mycroft had brought me, his eyes focusing in on the chemistry equipment and case files. He seemed more interested in my viola however.

"The viola actually. Slightly bigger than the violin and different tone to it, almost like a cello," I told him as I moved towards the door, pulling my coat and scarf off in the process. Sherlock had already removed his coat and scarf and had hung them up behind the door. He held his hands out and gestured for me to hand my things over. I gave him my coat and he hung it up behind the door with his.

"I would suggest that you both stay the night here. It's too late to get a cab," Sherlock said as he moved through the living room and took my box off his chair before sitting down on it and adopting his prayer pose. I knew it wasn't going to take him long before he got all OCD and had to move it. John shuffled by the door as I flung myself down on the couch and started to undo my braid. "There's a room upstairs and the other is downstairs. You can decide which ones you take," Sherlock told us before falling into silence. I knew he probably wasn't going to say anything else for a while.

"Which room do you want Lexi?" John asked me gentleman like as I finger combed through my long tresses. When I looked up I was surprised to find that both Sherlock and John were following my movements. "Could I have the downstairs room? I have bad insomnia and I don't want to keep you up if I'm moving around. Unless you think it would be better for you down here with your leg," I offered up as I threw my hair over my shoulder and laid down on the couch propping my feet up on the back of it. If Mrs Hudson saw me now she would probably be scolding me about sitting properly like a lady.

"Er no, that's fine," John told me and I shrugged as I rolled onto my stomach and propped myself up on my elbows. I smirked at him before turning to Sherlock who was still watching me closely. I fixed a look on him before springing to my feet quickly. My action made John jump slightly in surprise and I chuckled as I made for the hallway. I would have to remember to not sneak up on John or move too quickly around him. He had PTSD and that kind of stuff would startle him. So, no more attempting to move as silently as the grave, at least in the flat.

"Well boys, I'll see you tomorrow," I told them as I walked around John ready for some sleep. "Oíche mhaith agus codladh sámh," (Good night and sweet dreams) I called over my shoulder as I headed down the hallway. I opened one door on the left side of the hall and saw a dark, but seemingly cluttered room. I closed the door immediately not wanting to snoop around Sherlock's room. That could come later on when I had known him for a while. I crossed the hall and opened the opposite door and stepped into the moderately sized room.

"Good night Lexi," I heard John call as I closed the door to my new room. I smiled as I stood by the closed door for a moment. I sighed and laughed to myself as I turned around and flicked the light on.

My new room was dominated by a full size bed and a chest of drawers. One wall was papered with the same wallpaper that was in the living room, but the other walls were painted a warm golden colour. There was one large window with a wide sill that faced the street casting a dim glow from the street lights into the room that was easily blocked by the burgundy curtains Mrs Hudson had around the window. I inspected the small, empty closet. It would be passible. I was sure that Mycroft would probably get his hands on my room when he moved everything in for me. Not everything would stay the way it was now after he got done with it. The homely quilt on the bed demanded for someone to snuggle underneath it and who was I to resist the call of comfort?

I kicked off my shoes and dropped heavily on the bed, curling up under the quilt in the fetal position before giggling and stretching out to my full length. This had been the single most ridiculous day of my life and that was saying something. To conclude, I had met a man named Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, who besides a few slightly unsavoury personality traits seemed like someone who I could get along with. If anything we had sort of fallen into a companionship that stemmed from understanding each other. I deduced him and he deduced me, we didn't have to discuss what each other found, but we knew enough about each other. He was like me in the regards that he was a former addict and bored with the normal tedious aspects of life. Then, there was John Watson, a doctor and ex-military man. John was a gentleman, kind, and caring. He way loyal which was proven by the fact that he had realized we were in danger, rushed across London to find us, and had killed a man to protect us. He was your ultimate definition of a good guy. Somehow he seemed to have survived one night with Sherlock and me. There was hope for him yet.

I had to thank Sherlock. He changed my mind. He got me back into the cases. Of course part of my decision to go to the crime scene in the first place was because I wanted to see him work and I wanted to show off my own skills a bit. Whatever the initial reason I decided to go, I had let myself get invested in the case. Part of me wanted to say that this was the last time I let myself get pulled into one of Sherlock's cases, but I knew I would be lying to myself if I said that. My run throughout London was proof enough that I was back whether I wanted to be or not. The thrill of the chase…that was a better high than any drug could produce. The ability to deduce again, to solve a case. I had forgotten just how that felt.

A knock resounded on my door and I peeked out from under the covers before bouncing off of the bed and bounding over to the door. I opened it as quickly and as dramatically as possible. I was greeted with the sight of the slightly disgruntled, curly haired consulting detective. "What's up Lock?" I asked him as I leaned casually against the door frame, pulling a straight, serious, almost Mycroft like face. He grimaced at me before straightening up to his full height and frowning. It wasn't my fault I was heavily sleep deprived and therefore a little crazier than normal. I was running on caffeine and a whole lot of sugar. Sherlock just shoved something into my hands before he turned on his heel and strode away dramatically, his dressing gown which he had apparently changed into billowing behind him like a cape. "Good night to you too!" I called back to him cheerfully before I shut my door again. I walked back over to my bed and flopped down before I realized what it was Sherlock had given me, a pair of blue sleep pants and a plain grey shirt that he probably used as and undershirt under his dress shirts. I smiled at his friendly gesture before I stood up and shrugged out of my jumper. I threw it on the end of the bed before I pulled off my kami. I was about to unhook my bra when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I frowned as I reached and pulled it out, unlocking it quickly.

"_**Please close the curtains before changing. -MH**_" The text read, I looked up towards the window and shook my head. Of course Mycroft was looking in through the windows or at least his man in Havana was. I made a point of crossing over to the window in just my bra and pulled the curtains forcefully closed. I wasn't at all concerned of standing in front of the window in only my bra. I wasn't self-conscious like some people were. That's not to say that I openly displayed my body to anyone, I was just comfortable in my own skin. I crossed back over to the bed and picked up my phone where I had thrown it.

"_**Next time tell them not to watch Croft. I'm sure it was pretty clear what I was going to do," **_I texted back before setting my phone on silent and putting it on the night table by the bed. I took off my bra and shrugged on the shirt Sherlock had lent me before I pulled off my jeans and pulled on the sleep pants. They were the right size, but about our inches too long. Still, it was the thought that counted and the fact that Sherlock had thought to lend me some night clothes made it even better. I crossed back over to the door and slipped outside into the hall.

I nearly ran into John as he headed up to his own bed. He froze like a deer caught in the head lights when he saw me. I noticed that his eyes were drawn to my arm and I looked down. Oh, right…my tattoo. "Um, I didn't know you had a tattoo," John said as he pointed at my arm. Well Watson, that was because I've been wearing jumpers since we met.

"I have several," I told him truthfully as he shuffled uncomfortably. I held up my arm so he could see this one closer. The words 'To sleep perchance to dream' were tattooed on my left forearm along with a scrolling design starting at my elbow and ending at my wrist.

"It's good…very nice," John offered as he looked closer at it. I smiled at his awkwardness about the situation. Some of his awkwardness might have been because we had only just met and I was standing in front of him without a bra on. It wasn't exactly noticeable, but I wasn't hiding the fact either like most women would by crossing their arms in front of their chest. That brought more attention to what they wanted to draw attention away from. It seemed rather counterproductive. "Er…good night. I think I'm going to…," John said trailing off as he pointed behind me towards the stairs that led to his bedroom.

"Night John," I told him, patting him on the shoulder before I flatted myself against my door so he could get past me. He only looked back once before he headed up the stairs and I shook my head with a soft smile on my face before I slipped into the bathroom in the hall.

I washed my face and rinse my mouth out with some of Sherlock's mouth wash I found in the drug cabinet over the sink. He kept the bathroom rather tidy and surprisingly rather clean, though I had a sneaking suspicion that that was Mrs. Hudson's doing. I turned off the light in the bathroom and padded back over to my bedroom. I peeked my head into the living room on the way to see what Sherlock was up to. He was in his chair with his hands in the prayer position again and his violin resting in his lap. I nodded in satisfaction before slipping back into my bedroom. I didn't know what made me want to check on him, but I felt that sometimes he just needed someone to watch out for him, to let him know that they cared. I crawled under the quilt and snuggled into the pillows. I was so exhausted that it wasn't even funny at this point. It had been at least three days since I had had some proper sleep. I had slept a solid two to three hours a night for three days. I sighed heavily before cuddling my pillow into my chest. Maybe tonight would be different. My eyes grew heavier and heavier before sleep overtook me. I slept soundly for a while before my peace was interrupted.

_I was in a warehouse, it was dark, but I knew backup was on the way. He was there like I thought he was going to be. I confidently strode forward and announced my presence. This was easy, a simple case to solve. I would keep him engaged and then soon Lestrade would be there to clap him in iron. Another case done and solved. I was feeling a little antsy. It had been a while since I had last given myself a dose, but I could take one so close to being around Greg. It was hard enough as it was hiding it from him. I kept the killer engaged, but he was losing interest quickly as I ran out of ways to draw his attention. I waited, but the backup never came and he knew this. I only had a second to scream before he descended on me. I screamed once in horror before I blacked out. _

I woke up covered in sweat and shaking. Damn, another night's sleep ruined by the dreams. I groaned and rolled over, it was nearly four in the morning. Well, that was as good as it was going to get. I got out of bed knowing that I wasn't going to get any more sleep. I stripped out of the sweat soaked night clothes and pulled my jeans back on. I rehooked my bra and pulled my kami on over it before slipping out of my room and into the hall. As I padded into the living room I piled up my bed mussed hair into a messy bun. When I walked into the living room I froze upon seeing Sherlock in the same position he had been in nearly three hours ago. It didn't even look like he had moved an inch. Okay…creepy. Really creepy. I tiptoed over to his chair and bent down in front of him waving a hand in front of his closed eyes. He was still breathing so he was alive, but I wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not. Whatever, he wasn't dead so I would just leave him to his own devices.

I picked up my viola case and crossed over to the coffee table. I fell to my knees as I put the case on the table and unlocked it. I pulled out my viola and stood crossing back over to the window. I peaked back at Sherlock who still seemed out of it before I raised the viola to my shoulder. I knew John was still sleeping upstairs so I decided to play a soothing melody that would hopefully not wake him up. I used to play all the time after the nightmares. It was calming and helped me think things through. I settled on You Raise Me Up, one of my favourite pieces to play because it reminded me of home or at least Ireland. Growing up I never had a home or at least somewhere I would call home. Ireland was still my home though, no matter how much I loved England. England was my mother's home country, but for me, a part of me would also be connected to the Emerald Isle. I ran the bow across the strings in the first few measures, smiling in delight over the soft sounds produced. I closed my eyes and let the music speak the words I couldn't, let it fill the air with the emotions I was feeling. I frowned suddenly as I heard another melody join mine. I turned away from the window and saw that Sherlock had broken out of his trance. He was still sitting in his chair facing away from me, but he now had his bow in hand and was playing along with me. I continued, turning back to the window with a soft smile on my face. When I finished the song I stood still for a few minutes as if listening to the echo of the last few notes as the hung in the air of the flat. When I was satisfied, I crossed over to the coffee table and put my viola back in its case.

I peeked over my shoulder and saw that Sherlock was watching me carefully. I stood to my full height before turning around and crossing over to John's chair. I sat down pulling my legs up to my chest as I stared back at Sherlock. We sat like that for a few minutes in silence, just studying each other before Sherlock broke the silence. "What did he mean, the cabbie, about your accident?"

I sighed before smirking at Sherlock. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist that question," I accused Sherlock before I set my feet back on the floor. I watched Sherlock's eyes flit over my exposed skin zeroing in on my tattoos. "How about I get to that after I answer some of your other questions I know your dying to ask," I offered to him. Somehow, I felt comfortable talking to him about this. I knew that he wouldn't judge me.

"Agreed," Sherlock relented. "How did you learn to make deductions?" He asked me as he leaned back in his chair. I laughed slightly at that as I slung my legs over the arm of the chair and settled in for a while.

"My childhood wasn't a happy one. Let's just say, I didn't make friends well. I'm sure you can understand that," I told him and we share a look for a long moment before Sherlock nodded at me slowly. "Anyway, I spent a lot of time just observing people. I learnt how to make deductions from what I observed. I got better as I got older," I explained to Sherlock who nodded thoughtfully again before frowning.

"And how did you begin to work for the police?"

"Well, I had been working as a chemist. I have several degrees, but my main ones are in Criminology and Chemistry. I wanted a change, I got bored. There was a case the police were working on and they were no closer to solving it than Anderson is to actually having a bright idea. I walked into Scotland Yard and talked with Lestrade, gave him everything I had on the case that I had found out through the papers. When I was talking with him there was another body. He let me come to the crime scene. It didn't take me long to figure out who the killer was. He took me on as a consultant after that case."

"And the tattoos?" He asked me with interest as he gestured to my right collarbone where one of my larger tattoos was located.

"Well each of them I got after a milestone," I explained as I stood up from my chair. "This one," I said as I lifted up my kami exposing the skin of my hip. I missed the look that this earned from Sherlock."I got after I finally moved away from home," I told Sherlock as he studied the writing across my right hip bone. 'We accept the love we think we deserve.' He raised an eyebrow at the choice of wording, but made no comment on it. "This one," I told him, moving on, as I lowered my shirt and moved the collar of my shirt so he could see the one on my collarbone better. "I got after my first case." The tattoo on my collar bone reached up to my shoulder. It said 'Intake the future, exhale the past' and had four birds flying away from the script and across my shoulder. "And this one," I said as I showed him my left arm. "I got after my accident," I finished as I showed him the tattoo that John had noticed earlier.

"And your accident?" Sherlock pressed again. I sighed and turned away from him. I took a deep breath before looking back at him. His eyes were sharp as he studied my reaction. Well, there would never be a good time to tell him. I had said I would tell him too and I wanted to. I didn't want him to hear it through Anderson or Donovan who would definitely say something at some point. They had already made enough reference to it and then the cabbie mentioned it too.

"That is a rather long story, I should start with explaining a few things first," I told him and he nodded to show that he understood. "Okay well…it starts with my addiction. As I said my childhood wasn't too happy. When I got older, life got worse. Thankfully, I started Uni early so I got away from home. I was already living on my own at nineteen. No one would hire me that young even if I was smarter than everyone else. I worked odd jobs until I found someone willing to give me a chance and I became a Chemistry professor at a smaller college. I don't remember exactly how, but I got introduced to cocaine. The high was worth the negative effects on my body, I could think, I was unhindered. I moved to London after I turned twenty four. Then I started working for Lestrade. I tried to quit, but it wasn't easy. It wasn't like quitting smoking. I hid it from Lestrade, but it was difficult. He seemed to know what was going on, at least I think he did," I explained to Sherlock before pausing to take a breath. He sat in silence just watching me closely and letting me talk without interruption. "My last case, the reason I left. I was working on a serial killer case for Lestrade. There had already been four victims, he was desperate," I started again before Sherlock finally interrupted me.

"What case was this, the specifics?" He asked me as he picked up his violin and plucked at a few of the strings. I looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing my monologue.

"Four victims, all women, all mutilated and decapitated," I supplied and he nodded as if this confirmed something he was thinking.

"Mmm I remember it. I wanted to work the case, but Lestrade refused, said he already had someone working on the case. I was furious. I demanded he tell me who he had working for him but he refused to tell me, only would say they had everything under control," Sherlock filled me in as he picked up his bow and played a few low notes.

"You had just gotten clean, you wanted to come back, but Lestrade wouldn't take you because I was there. When I left he let you come back," I stated as I snorted. "He was desperate, desperate enough to swallow his pride and ask for your help."

"Continue," Sherlock told me with a nod as the only indication I was right.

"Alright, well, I figure out who the killer was, obviously. I knew we were going to lose him if we didn't move quickly. I found out where he was going to be and I decided to go and meet him. Lestrade had left for Scotland Yard so I told Anderson and Donovan to call Lestrade and tell him where I was headed and to bring back up. I found the killer in the warehouse I thought he was hiding out in. I engaged him. I tried to stall him until backup came, but…."

"But it never came. This case though, when it was solved, it said in the papers that a girl had been held captive for three days, the last victim who was rescued by the police." Sherlock interrupted. I nodded at him slowly. I watched the wheels turning in Sherlock's head before he finally put two and two together. "Oh," He finally said as he figured it out. I laughed bitterly and nodded at him in confirmation of his deduction.

"Anderson and Dovovan didn't believe me so they didn't bother to tell Lestrade what I asked them to. The killer captured me and was holding me in another part of London. It was only after I failed to turn up again that the dynamic duo decided to say something to Lestrade. Long story short, I was held for three days. He tortured me, broke three ribs and my left leg, and fractured my wrist. Then he found out about my addiction. Decided to play a game. He gave me the drug I was craving, but he was a textbook idiot," I continued explaining as I got up and crossed back over to the window. I wrapped my arms around me as I watched the sky growing lighter outside the window.

"He gave you too much," Sherlock stated. I nodded as I looked out of the window, staring at my reflection in the glass. My eyes had dark circles around them due to lack of sleep. I looked even paler than normal too.

"I almost overdosed. Mycroft ended up being the one to find out where I was. Lestrade had no clue how to find me. Mycroft got me to the hospital in time. That's when it all came out about my addiction. The killer, well, he didn't get away so easily after Mycroft's men got a hold of him. Mycroft was livid, he hadn't known about my addiction. I was good at hiding it, even from him and his deductions. Lestrade couldn't keep me on after that and Mycroft forced me into rehab. I fought him, said it was my life and I could do what I wanted. Then, I realized he was doing me a favour. He got me the help I was too proud to get myself. It was the first time someone cared what happened to me. Well, the second time. Mycroft got me back on my feet. I owe him for that. It wouldn't have even mattered if Lestrade let me go back or not, that last case was it for me," I finished before I crossed the room again and sat in John's chair heavily.

"That's why you hold such animosity against Anderson and Donovan. I wondered why my brother seemed so interested in you," Sherlock remarked thoughtfully as he quickly stood and went to the window, looking out of it, filling the position I had left.

"He told me he saw potential in me and he didn't like to see it go to waste. I never understood him before when he told me that he did what he did because he regretted not doing enough before. He meant with you," I told Sherlock who turned back to look at me with a look of annoyance on his face.

"He did always like to butt in. Never could leave well enough alone," He quipped before turning back to the window.

"He means well, though I understand you. He is a bloody pain in the arse some times. I've learnt to deal with it by enacting my own revenge for his meddling," I told Sherlock with a laugh as I got up and stretched. John would most likely not be getting up for a while. It was surprisingly just after six in the morning. That had taken a lot longer to explain than I thought it would. "Enough about that though, you should get some sleep. You've been sitting in that weird position for a while and if my deductions are right you haven't slept in three days."

"Neither have you," Sherlock quickly shot back acting like a child who didn't like being told to go to bed.

"Yes, but I actually have a legit reason as to why I'm not sleeping. Now you go get some sleep before we have to go meet Lestrade down at Scotland Yard," I ordered him like a mother hen. He turned away from the window and narrowed his eyes in a glare at me.

"I'm not a child, you can't order me to bed," Sherlock said looking very much like a child at the moment as he crossed his arms defensively and pouted at me. I looked at him pointedly before pointing to the hall.

"Bed now, get your skinny arse in that room before I come over there and drag you to it. I don't care if you sleep or not, but at least lie there and make an effort too. I'm going to go back to bed," I ordered Sherlock as I walked over to him and pushed him towards the hallway. I was a lot stronger than I looked and managed to push him half way across the living room before he shook me off.

"Fine, I'll lie down, but I'm not going to sleep," Sherlock warned me as we entered the hallway together. I stopped with my hand on my door and looked back at Sherlock rolling my eyes.

"Surrre," I drawled out, rolling my eyes at him. "Keep telling yourself that Lock," I told him with a nod before I slipped back into my room and closed the door. I didn't bother changing back into my bed clothes and just slipped under the quilt, curling back up around my pillow.

I woke up nearly two hours later feeling slightly more rested than before. Explaining everything to Sherlock had honestly helped lift the weight off my chest and made sleeping easier. I stretched with a yawn before slipping out into the hall it was almost nine and from the quietness in the flat I assumed that John was still sleeping. I slipped into the bathroom and tidied up as best as I could before I left the bathroom and tiptoed up the stairs, opening John's door a crack. He was still asleep and snoring like a hibernating bear. I stifled a giggle when I saw his sleeping form. He was hugging his pillow like it was a teddy bear. I left him to sleep and padded down the stairs with all the grace of a feline. I checked on Sherlock as I passed by his room. I smiled smugly as the sounds of soft snores greeted my ears. Sure he wasn't going to sleep. I snorted before closing his door again. I returned to my room and pulled on my jumper from the day before and my boots before slipping into the living room and crossing over to the door. I bundled up in my jacket and scarf and grabbed my case bag from where I had left it before I quietly made my way down the stairs to the front door.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the door to 221A opened and Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat. "Off out?" She asked me cheerfully as I slung my scarf on and pulled out my mittens.

"Yeah, the boys are sleeping so I figured I would slip by my flat for some fresh clothes. I have a feeling I will be running around again today. I'm going to stop by the shop on my way back. Do you need anything?" I asked the woman as I slung my case bag over my head and readjusted it.

"Could you get me some more tea biscuits? They seem to be the only thing I can get Sherlock to eat," Mrs. Hudson tittered in a very motherly fashion. I knew that she cared for Sherlock like he was a son. I loved Mrs. Hudson already.

"Of course Mrs. Hudson and don't worry, I'll get him to eat something later," I promised her I turned to leave before she called me back.

"Have you eaten anything yet dear? You look a little peaky," She asked me kindly. I laughed quietly, I didn't want to be too loud and end up waking the consulting detective sleeping upstairs.

"No, I really didn't want to mess with the kitchen too much. Heaven only knows what Sherlock is keeping in the cupboards," I told Mrs. Hudson. I knew he was keeping eyeballs in the microwave. While I wasn't bothered with body parts having used them in my own experiments, I wasn't overly fond of the idea of trying to find food in his kitchen this morning. Messing with his experiments didn't seem like a way to get on Sherlock's good side nor was the food probably eatable. All of it was its own sort of science experiment.

"You wait right here. I just made a pot of tea, I'll bring you a cup to take with you. It's a chilly morning out there," Mrs. Hudson told me in a commanding motherly fashion before slipping back into her flat. She came back out a minute later with a to-go cup of tea for me.

"You are a saint Mrs. Hudson," I told the woman as I took the steaming brew from her. I kissed her on the cheek before I rushed over to the door. "If Sherlock or John get up before I come back tell them I just popped out and I'll be back soon. I don't think they'll be up for a while though," I told Mrs. Hudson who assured me she would pass along the message for me. I burst out of Baker Street and into the cold, London morning air. I was thankful for the warm cup of tea to warm my cold hands on as I stepped up to the curb and hailed an approaching taxi which passed me without stopping. I swore loudly in Russian before I started walking down Baker Street to find another cab. Just as I was heading away from 221 a black car pulled around the corner of the street and glided to a stop in front of me. I smiled and opened the back door and slid inside the toasty warm car. I was met by the face of Mycroft's personal assistant Anthea.

"Morning Anthea," I greeted her as the car pulled back onto the road. The driver asked me where I was headed and I gave him the address to my flat before settling into my seat in the nice warmth of the vehicle. Being friends with the British government had its perks.

"Morning Lexi," Anthea said as she looked up from her BlackBerry with a smile. Anthea and I were sort of friends, mostly due to the fact that we saw each other a lot. Mycroft and I were close. No matter how much he said caring wasn't an advantage, I knew that was a lie. He cared about me enough to watch out for me and he watched out for Sherlock too. I understood what he meant though. Sometimes, caring wasn't an advantage because when you cared you got hurt.

"So how is the British government this morning? Hellish I assume," I asked her with a laugh as I lounged in my seat. Anthea actually dropped her phone for a second to answer me. I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't always texting or doing something important. On a few occasions I had caught sight of something that looked an awful lot like Tetris on her screen.

"He was complaining about paperwork again. Nice one last night, I don't think I've ever seen him blush before. He turned such a lovely shade of red," Anthea confided in me with a laugh.

"Don't let him hear you say that. In my defence, it was perfectly clear what I intended to do. If he doesn't want to catch an eye full he shouldn't be watching," I told Anthea with a shrug. It wouldn't be the first time Mycroft saw something he didn't need to see. I always told him that is he stopped being a peeping tom with his cameras he wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Men," Anthea supplied as she resumed her work on her phone. I erupted in laughter which she joined in.

"Aye, men. You should have heard Sherlock this morning, he was so stubborn, refused to go to bed. I checked on him before I left and low and behold the man's asleep. He's just like Mycroft no matter how much they try to deny they are alike. I'm starting to think it's just a Holmes' thing."

"And a Lexi thing," Anthea told me with a grin as we pulled to a stop in front of my flat.

"Yeah, well…I'm just me. Anyway thanks for the ride. I'm going to be a while so I'll find my way back to the flat okay," I told Anthea as I got out of the car. She looked up at me pointedly from her frown. Oh no, not that look. That look never meant something good for me.

"I'm supposed to wait for you," She told me and I groaned.

"He's not going to let me take a cab for a while will he? Seriously, there's no gang of killer cabbies he has to worry about," I whined and Anthea threw me a pitying look.

"Sorry, boss's orders, I can take you to his office next if you want to complain to him about it," Anthea offered with an evil grin.

"I'm taking you up on that offer," I warned Anthea pointedly. "Do not tell him I'm coming either. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be down," I called over my shoulder as I ran into the building and up to my flat. My landlord tried to stop me at the bottom of the stairs, but I waved him off hurriedly. "Not now Larry, I have an appointment with the British government," I shouted down to him as I slipped inside my flat and locked the door behind me, dragging the chain across the door.

I flew through my flat like a tornado, grabbing clothes from my wardrobe and making my way into my bathroom. I attacked my rats nest that sort of resembled hair before I slipped into the shower. I scrubbed my body as if my life depended upon it before stumbling out of the shower and hurriedly drying off. I pulled on a pair of light wash jeans and a white kami which I tucked into the skirt before I finished off my outfit with a red plaid shirt which I left unbuttoned. I pulled my boots on again before hurrying into my bathroom where I dried my hair as quickly as humanely possible before I braided up two sides of my hair and pinned a white silk rose clip into them to hold back my long locks from falling in my face. As I raced out of my flat and back down to the waiting car, I pulled my trench coat and scarf back on.

I made it down to the car in record time and slid into the seat next to Anthea again. She looked up from her phone with a smirk on her face. "Eleven minutes and fifty-two seconds," She informed me as the driver pulled away from the street as soon as I slammed the door shut.

"New record!" I cheered as I patted my coat pocket. I frowned when my search didn't procure what I was searching form. Damn, I left my phone back at the flat. "Can you text Mycroft and tell him not to have a conniption. I left my phone back at the flat," I told Anthea as I sighed. He got worried whenever I didn't text him back right away. He had a good reason to given that the first time I never answered him back was because I had been kidnapped. I knew it annoyed him when I ignored his texts like I had yesterday.

"Just did, he said he already knew and to remember it in the future," Anthea informed me and I snorted.

"Thanks dad," I muttered under my breath before I looked up at the driver. "Know what, I don't feel like seeing Mycroft today. Can you just drop me off at the Tesco's near Baker Street?"

The driver agreed and he took off for Baker Street again. It didn't take long to get there and I said good bye to Anthea before I jumped out of the car and flew into Tesco's. I grabbed everything I thought we would need given that it didn't look like Sherlock had shopped in a while. I picked up Mrs. Hudson's biscuits along with anything else I thought the boys might like to eat. I decided to make breakfast for the boys when I got back to the flat. I'd feed them something before we had to head down to Scotland Yard to give our statements to Greg. We'd have to decide on what to tell Greg about the "mysterious" shooter and how John knew where to turn up, just after the police arrived. I did the flight of the bumblebee through the store before hailing a cab back to Baker Street. The cabbie was nice and helped me load everything into the car. Mrs. Hudson let me inside the flat when I got back to Baker Street and informed me that Sherlock and John were still sleeping. She helped me get everything up to the flat and unload it onto the counter before she returned to the ground floor.

The minute I opened the refrigerator door I was meet by the sight of bloody fingers in a bag on one of the dinner plates. There was also some half mouldy food and milk that was expired. I grabbed the bin and proceeded to clean out the refrigerator. I found same cleaning solution under the sink which looked like it had never been used before and, with a small army of paper towels, I attacked the refrigerator. Once I was assured it was thoroughly sanitized I located a bucket under the sink that looked to have never been used for cleaning and labelled it with a sharpie 'Experiments.' I picked up the bag of bloody fingers and dropped them unceremoniously into the bucket before loading it on the bottom shelf. I put away all the food before it could spoil, but left out everything I would need to make a traditional Irish breakfast. I loved British food, but the food from home was so much better.

I took off my plaid shirt and threw it over the back of John's chair from the door to the kitchen before I went in search of what I would need. I found a cutting board and a knife and set about peeling three potatoes. I put them on to boil as I opened a jar of beans and found a pot in the most obscure place. I would have to do a little kitchen redesign, but nothing to terrible. I would appease Sherlock by setting aside a cupboard just for him. I put the beans on to boil and somehow managed to find a frying pan, in the pantry, which I dumped some kippers and bacon in. I started to fry them up as I danced around the kitchen to the tune of my own song.

I was actually happy this morning and I hummed to myself as I cooked. I found three plates and washed them in the sink, I wasn't taking any chance, before I set the kettle to boil for some morning tea. I heard shuffling outside of the kitchen and danced over to the door with skillet in hand as I pushed the bacon and kippers around with a spatula. I was met by a blinking, awake, mussed up haired consulting detective who wore bed pants and a grey shirt like the one he had given me, and a blue bathrobe. "Good morning," I greeted Sherlock in my thick Irish accent as I popped back into the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway a second later peering at the stove curiously which I assumed he had never used or either didn't know how to. Sherlock didn't seem like the sort of person you would catch cooking.

"You're cooking," He observed as he stood still, his bathrobe hanging limp around his tall, slender frame. I rolled my eyes fondly as I continued to push the kippers and bacon around the pan as I looked over at the detective. This was altogether domestic.

"A brilliant deduction," I teased still not bothering to conceal my accent. It was morning, I was still tired, and I really didn't care to try and mask it at this point. They both knew I was Irish so it wouldn't surprise them to also learn that I had an accent when I wasn't concealing it.

"You changed clothes," Sherlock stated and I laughed heartily. Was he always like this after he woke up? Couldn't he not deduce the causes of both actions? Clearly he needed his morning nicotine patch before he made any sense.

"Another brilliant deduction Lock," I told him as I set the skillet back on the stove and danced around the kitchen. I returned to the door with a mug of tea in hand which I gave to Sherlock. "Go sit, I'll bring everything out in a few minutes," I ordered him as I forcibly turned him around and pushed him towards the kitchen door.

"Not hungry," He told me before he dramatically swept out of the kitchen. The sound of a body dropping heavily on the couch sounded from the living room soon after he left.

"You'll eat it and you'll like it. And you better not have had the tea in your hand when you flung yourself on the couch. I'm not cleaning it up if you sloshed it all over the place!" I called over my shoulder as I plated the kippers and bacon and rinsed out the pan before I started frying some eggs up. I heard yawn behind me and was greeted with the sight of a yawning John who was stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning John. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes," I told him as I flitted around the kitchen and brought him his tea. I remembered the way he liked it from when we had lunch with Mike.

"Ta," He told me sleepily as he took his mug and trundled into the living room. I shook my head and smiled at the two men as I plated up the rest of the food. I made extra toast knowing that if anything I might be able to entice Sherlock to eat at least a bit of that. I precariously balanced a plate on my mug of tea and a plate on my other arm and carried the three of them into the living room. As I thought, Sherlock was curled up in the fetal position on the couch with his back to the living room and John was sitting in his chair drink his tea as he read yesterday's paper.

"Food," I announced with a smile. John put his paper down and took the plate that was balanced on my arm. I set Sherlock's plate down on the coffee table before I ran back to the kitchen for silverware and the jam I had bought. I handed both the jam and a fork and knife to John as I passed him before I turned around and realized in the course of my absence Sherlock had moved to his chair and had his plate of food balanced on his knees. He picked at the eggs uninterestedly, but John dug into his food with gusto. The man certainly seemed to like to eat. I had deduced that he was partial to jam, particularly Strawberry. Jam, tea, and jumpers, he was a man of simple creature comforts.

I put my tea and plate on the coffee table before I returned to the kitchen. I grabbed the plate of extra toast and brought it back with me into the living room. I placed it on the desk by Sherlock's chair before deftly moving and picking up my plate and tea and going to sit at the other desk. Why one man needed two desks was beyond me. I took the time as I chewed on some fried egg to study the room a little closer. The day before provided very little time to actually look over the entire room. After that it had been a lot of running around and solving a case and my brain power was better used towards the work rather than observing the room.

On the wall above the desk I was currently sitting at was a bison skull which had head phones on it. I quirked my eyebrow at the randomness of the "modern art" piece. Books cluttered nearly every inch of the room. Mycroft would be hard pressed to find room for all of my books too. I could have moved on my own, but I knew that at this moment Anthea was probably overseeing the packing up of my old flat. We would later find that we had a "surprise" visit while we were out and my stuff would magically be dispersed throughout the flat as if I had always lived here. The skull poster on the wall was quirky for Sherlock and clashed horribly with the wallpaper which I assumed was his intent. The composing stand by the window made me imagine Sherlock standing there playing as he observed the people walking down Baker Street, deducing them as they passed by the window. The most interesting piece seemed to be the preserved bat pinned in a shadow box on the mantle. I liked the kind of cluttered organized mess that over took the flat. I wasn't a neat person, except in the kitchen that is. My kitchen was immaculate, but only because I loved to cook which Sherlock and John would soon find out. It was another outlet for me when I was feeling stressed. It was something productive to do and once you were finished, you had a treat for yourself. Sometimes I would knit while thinking too which is why Mycroft had about five knitted hats which I knew he would never wear.

I rose from my chair and breezed back into the kitchen, picking up Sherlock's practically untouched plate and bringing it with me. I didn't really expect for him to eat it, but at least I tried. He had at least nibbled a little bit on the toast so that was something. Baby steps, I would start off small and then I would try harder to get him to eat. He had to take care of himself better when on cases. If he kept continuing with not eating during a case and not sleeping, he was going to run himself ragged. I started the washing up until John came into the kitchen and relinquished me of my duty. "I'll do that, least I can do," John told me as he took a plate from my hands.

"Thanks John," I told him with a smile as I gladly gave over the washing duties to John. I leaned against the counter to keep him company. My Irish accent was still prevalent. I normally hid it with my British one, trying to fit into life in London a little easier, but around John and Sherlock I really didn't mind it anymore. 

I felt oddly comfortable around them, which was surprising given that I generally had to take a lot of time to get to know someone first before I felt okay around them. Things were different with John and Sherlock though. John seemed to accept Sherlock and my oddness and Sherlock understood me like Mycroft did. That was one of the reasons why Mycroft and I got along so well. Normally, people were put off with my personality or the fact that I could tell them everything about themselves. People are, by nature, rather secretive. When you can read them like an open book, they tend to get defensive. I couldn't blame them though, not even Anderson and Donovan, not completely at least. Sure, I blamed both of them for a lot of things, but I understood why they called me a freak or a psychopath. The unfortunate truth of things is that we tend to shun things we don't understand. Mycroft understood me to a point. Sure, I didn't tell him everything about myself, but neither had he told me everything about himself. There were a few occasions where we had some heart to heart conversations. He knew that my father and I didn't get along, to put it mildly. I still wasn't ready to talk about all of that with Sherlock and John though. That was why I was so angry when Anderson looked through my journal. It was my mothers and then mine. I started writing in it as a child and then as I grew older, I compiled everything from cases I solved as a child to my observations of people.

A lot of what I wrote in it was about things from my childhood, about my father. It was like a chronological book of my entire life. I wrote about my cases when I got to London, about Mycroft, and about the people I met. It was almost like a physical representation of mind and how it worked. I wasn't lying, I could remember everything I ever heard, read, said, or saw. It was annoying sometimes, but it also proved useful when working on cases. There were, of course, some things that I would love to forget, that I wished were easy enough to forget. Then, there were things I would never forget because they defined me as a person. Every life experience we have whether good or bad helps to make us the people we are. The way I saw it, every life was a pile of good things and bad things. The good things didn't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things didn't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

I padded back into the living room where Sherlock was sitting with his violin in his lap again, playing small notes by plucking the strings. I put my over shirt back on and moved to sit in John's chair. I watched the man before me and what I saw was not what others did. I saw a man who had gone through life like I had, shunned because he was different than everyone else. I knew that Sherlock's home life was at least good. His time in boarding school probably wasn't. I had deduced that he had gone to boarding school from his surname. The Holmes family was an old and wealthy family, Mycroft went to boarding school and then to Uni so it was only logical that Sherlock had done the same. I myself went to an all-girls boarding school, but for rather different reasons. So, shunned in school with no friends, Sherlock spent time like I had observing people from a young age. When he got older, he pursued a career that meant working alone since he normally didn't get on well with people. Along with that he generally shut people out and went under the guise that he was a high functioning sociopath to push people away. Why? Because every time he let himself care he ended up getting hurt. He was letting himself care now though with John and I and I recognized that which was why I was trying so hard to show him that he wasn't alone, that people were out there that could understand him and yes, even care for him in return.

Sherlock need a friend. Someone who would hold his hand, to show him that he didn't need to go through life alone. For a long time I had Mycroft to be that person for me and now, I was going to be that person for Sherlock. I knew, lord I knew, that it would be difficult. Mummy Holmes warned me that her boys were stubborn in their own respects. I knew Sherlock wasn't going to accept my help right away. Hell, we were probably going to get in a lot of arguments, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying. I had too many people take advantage of me or break me down and if I could do anything to help Sherlock, I was going to. Nobody deserved to feel like they didn't have a friend, especially not Sherlock. I saw it as this. For a man who claimed he didn't care, he cared a lot more than he ever let it show. It was why he internalized so many of his emotions. Mycroft never smiled and it seemed neither did Sherlock much. If Sherlock was happy, I doubted he ever let it show more than a simple smirk. Sure, he laughed a few times, but somehow it felt like he didn't laugh often enough. Sherlock's phone thrilled, breaking me out of my reverie, and he reached across to pick up his phone from the desk beside him. He looked down at his phone, a small smirk gracing his face. Good news, or at least news he was waiting to hear. His eyes flickered up to me as he lowered his phone and promptly got up.

"Lestrade wants us to come down to the Yard and give our statements," Sherlock told me as he walked around my chair and headed towards his bed room. His robe made a sort of swooshing movement behind him which made me smirk. He was rather dramatic, I could see what Mycroft meant now. Of course that was just the pot calling the kettle black. I sighed and got up from my chair, popping my head into the kitchen to let John know that we had to be heading out soon. I caught him, arms deep in dish water and he looked back at me sheepishly at the little mess he had made. I grinned back at him, it was hilarious to see me do housework sometimes. I knew John had only offered because he would have felt bad for making me clean up after I cooked for them. I giggled at him once before I moved back to my own room.

I collected my phone which I had forgotten earlier, along with my case bag before moving back into the living room. I dug through the boxes Mycroft had brought over for me and found some of my equipment. Magnifing glass, lock picking kit, and a few piece of equipment that, while not always needed, were good to have on me. One of those pieces of equipment was my hacking equipment which Mycroft, fortunately, didn't know about. I shoved it into my bag, the items joining my laptop and notebooks. I could hear Sherlock moving around in his room and it sounded like he was tearing it apart. John walked into the room then in his jumper from the day before, looking slightly more put together. I smiled at him as Sherlock burst into the room, dressed in one of his immaculate suits. Would it kill him and Mycroft to wear jeans on occasion? Without a word he strode over to the door and started to pull on his Belstaff coat and scarf. I joined him, pulling on my own coat.

"We'll have to figure out something to say to Lestrade to explain why John was there just after the police arrived. Lestrade isn't the smartest man that ever lived, but even he will find that slightly suspicious," I remarked as John pulled on his coat. His head snapped up to me, but I ignored him, fixing my gaze on Sherlock.

He nodded thoughtfully for a second before he spoke. "We'll let him form his own theory first and then dissuade him or provide further evidence to support his theory."

"That could work. Anyway, even if he did find out it was John, he wouldn't do any time for it," I remarked as I slipped my phone into my pocket. Hopefully Mycroft would be less annoying today than he had been the day before.

"You know, I'm standing right here," John said irritably as he followed Sherlock and me down the stairs. I glanced back at him and shrugged just as Mrs. Hudson walked out of her flat.

"Are you three headed out again?" She asked us as Sherlock made for the door. I gave the woman a brief, one armed hug as Sherlock and John went outside to hail a cab. Men, they leave the women to talk while they make a hasty retreat.

"Mmm," I hummed in agreement as I made to follow them. "We'll be back later, Lestrade needed us to come in and give our statements on last night's case. Oh, some people will be by later with my stuff, could you let them in and direct them upstairs?" I asked Mrs. Hudson as I paused at the door, pulling on my leather gloves I had grabbed from one of the boxes. Ah comfy.

"I'll be sure to," Mrs. Hudson assured me just as I heard my name yelled loudly from outside. "You'd best get out there before he has a fit. You know what he's like," Mrs. Hudson told me as she followed me over to the door.

"He's worse that his brother in some ways, that's for sure. Anyway we'll see you later," I told Mrs. Hudson before steeping outside into the still cold morning air. Mrs. Hudson closed the door behind me as I walked over to the waiting cab. John stood waiting by the open door for me and I could already see Sherlock inside waiting irritably for me. I winked at John before sliding into the cab next to the detective and as soon as John got in next to me and closed the door, the cab pulled out onto the road and headed of in the direction of New Scotland Yard.

I pulled out my phone and texted Mycroft to let him know where I was going to be. I didn't have to check in with him, but he preferred to know where I was. Ever since my…accident working on the case, Mycroft kept an even closer eye on me than he had before. He worried whenever I ignored his texts because the one time I had was because I had been kidnapped. I obliged him now by texting him with where I planned to be. It meant that I didn't get texts from him when I was working on something important because he knew not to bother me. His simple response to my text assured me that I would not have a replay of yesterday's persistence. He seemed to accept the fact that I had decided to go back to work.

It wasn't really a decision as much as I just stopped refusing the idea of going back to solving cases. It had been four years and I couldn't deny the fact that running with Sherlock and John and solving the case had left me feeling happier than I had in a very long time. The thrill of the case was something that I had been missing. The chases, the prospect of possible death, some would call it madness, but I loved it. I could tell that Sherlock did as well. There was also the mysterious case of Moriarty, someone who knew of both Sherlock and me. I only knew that whoever they were, they were Irish which was a possible explanation for how they might know me. I couldn't remember the name, but it was possible I knew them from somewhere. Whoever they were, they were playing a dangerous game one that involved Sherlock and I and I was just as interested in finding more about Moriarty as I was sure Sherlock was. We had silently agreed not to mention anything to John about the name.

John seemed like he didn't know what to make of us. He had been just as invested in the case as Sherlock and I and had proven to be a valuable asset. I would just have to see where this new companionship went. One thing that I knew for certain was that I was moving into Baker Street. Another thing, was that I was decidedly going back to work. My mind had stayed stagnant for too long. I needed a new case, a puzzle, something to occupy my mind with. In the afterglow of success from the cabbie case, I was bursting with ideas. I was antsy, ready for something to do. Did Sherlock feel this way too? I would have to ask him about it. We were similar in a lot of ways only I provided my consulting services with a soon as we reached the Yard, Sherlock and I bolted from the cab before it had even come to a stop and we walked side by side into Scotland Yard. We raced up the stairs to the homicide division which was a flurry of activity. Sherlock turned up the collars of jacket as he banged open the door and sweep inside the department dramatically. I snorted and followed after him leaving the dramatics to him for the current moment. I didn't think Lestrade could handle the both of us at once.

"Ah the freaks are here," Sally said with a sneer as she walked out of Lestrade's office.

"Sally, always delightful to see you," Sherlock greeted her with a smirk as he stopped in front of her. "We'd love to stay and chat, but we actually have important work to do. I'm sure you can understand," He continued before he strode past her flashing her another false smile before he entered Lestrade's office. I grinned at Sally who looked to be seething with rage before walking past her and joining Sherlock in Greg's office. He was already giving an account of everything that passed between the cabbie and us, glossing over some points like my more winning comments.

John joined us, having finally caught up, just as Sherlock was explaining the part up the end of the game and the mysterious shooter who fired just as it seemed like we were in danger. I looked up at John from my perch on the corner of Lestrade's desk and winked at him slyly. He cleared his throat and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, shuffling uncomfortably. I leaned my head back and looked at Lestrade who was watching me closely just as Sherlock got to the part about how he had gone to the window not seeing the shooter and then how moments later we heard the police sirens. He glossed over the part about how the cabbie had given us the name of who he was working for. For now it seemed like we were going to keep that to ourselves to solve.

The door suddenly burst open and we all turned to look at the door where a greying man stood, slightly out of breath having clearly just run up the stairs to get here rather than taking the lift. He clearly was in a hurry. I smiled as I recognized the man and jumped off of the edge of the desk with a little cheer as I bounded over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He chuckled as he returned the hug until the sound of Lestrade clearing his throat reached us. I broke away from the man grinning as he returned to his normally professional composure. Lestrade, John, and Sherlock were all watching us with curiosity and I could tell that Sherlock was now deducing the man that I seemed to be greatly acquainted with.

"Detective Inspector Gregson," The man introduced as he walked forward and shook Lestrade's hand. Lestrade still looked mildly shocked, but nodded at the man who had turned back to me. "I heard you were up here in homicide. I know you don't work cases any more, but I got one that I thought might interest you. Man came home a few hours ago to find his door kicked in and his wife missing. I thought maybe you would want to take a look and I could really use your help. I've got nothing to go on. Unless it's too soon. I heard about what happened with the cabbie."

"No, it's not too soon. I'll walk down with you. Is Sargent Bell still working in your unit?" I asked Gregson as I gathered my case bag. He looked relieved as soon as I told him that I would be joining him.

"Yes, he was the one that heard about your case and that you were here actually. Your reputation still precedes you," Gregson told me with a laugh which I joined in on. "Of course no one can forget you back in our division, not after that stunt you pulled."

"Oh come on Gregson, it wasn't that bad. I've been known to do far worse than that. I'll be down in a second," I told Gregson before turning back to Lestrade. "I do believe Sherlock has the rest of this from here, so I will leave you in his more than capable hands. It appears I have a case," I told him as he stared back at me with the expression of a gold fish. I moved my gaze to John. "Come Watson, I think I may need your assistance on this one," I told him before moving to the door, meeting Sherlock's gaze as I did so. I smiled at his indignant expression as I leaned back into the door way as John and Lestrade continued to look on with shock on their faces. "Oh, I might want to mention. There are two consulting detectives residing at Baker Street," I told them before walking off back through the division without a backward glance. I knew that John would follow after me sooner or later. He, like me, couldn't resist the excitement of a case.

It would seem that the entire unit had heard me what with the way Anderson and Donovan, not to mention everyone else, was staring at me as I met Gregson at the door to the division. I smiled at him as he held the door open for me and we headed down the stairs into what used to be my life. Lexi MacKenna, consulting detective was back. As I opened the door to the unit Gregson oversaw, I smirked back at everyone who stopped dead in their tracks as they saw me. The room was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop as everyone paused in their work, paperwork held in frozen hands. "As you can clearly see," I started as I smiled at the horrified looks on everyone's faces save one man's. "Not dead," I finished as I walked back into my old life.


	11. Oh Look, A Crime Scene

(**A/N) So, another early chapter. I had it finished so I figured I would post it for all of you. I'm just going to start doing that. As soon as I finish the next chapter I'll post it. Still towards the end of the week, but you might get it a day or two sooner on occasion. I changed the way I formatted the text messages so I hope you like the new format. Comments are much appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed recently and also checked out my one shots. Check out my Tumbler page, link is on my author profile. I end up posting a lot of things on there that didn't end up making it into the chapters and that is where you will find post updates in case I end up having an emergency one week. Your author went and hurt her knuckles this week so typing has become difficult, but I still got this chapter for you. I was actually productive this week. New poll on my author profile, trying to gauge some peoples reactions since I gave to decide how many own cases I am doing between "episodes".**

**What is you're opinion on that? I don't want to just give you the main cases and tell you time passed, I want to show you other cases they worked to show you how their relationships got established. I just don't want you to get bored if you are looking forward to a certain case. As it is planned, after this case there are three other own cases and then the Blind Banker and then three more own cases before The Great Game. Then a brief interlude of one or two domestic BS chapters before ASiB, an episodeI think spans a good fifteen or so chapters, the longest to date. Let me know what you think and do check out the poll so I can make some decisions.****See you all here next week, enjoy the chapter. -KattieWatsonHolmes**

**Song that inspired the chapter: We Insist by Zoe Keating**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten- Oh Look, A Crime Scene<strong>

**"Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell." **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle,<strong>_**The Adventure of the Copper Beeches ** _

I smiled in satisfaction as I took in my old stomping grounds. Ah, good times. I walked into the division and up to my old friend and sometimes partner when working on cases, Sargent Bell. We had been through enough cases together that I was fine with calling him a friend and I had yet to actually scare him off. He was the only person I had ever found who was actually willing to work with me. Bell wasn't as critical as the rest of the Yarders were and when he had first heard about me, he hadn't listened to the rumours and had waited to form his own opinion of me. Sargent Bell was the sort of person I met once in a great while that was willing to give me a chance. I found his help beneficial on most cases, though sometimes his help wasn't all that helpful. He was good at what he did though so I couldn't fault him. He was certainly more clever than most of the Yarders. Sargent Bell was in his thirties, tallish, African American with short hair. He was originally from New York, but had joined Scotland Yard about the same time I had started consulting for Gregson. He had been very sceptical of my deductions at first, but after they were backed up with lab evidence, he slowly started trusting me. After that, no matter how strange my deductions sounded, he always believed them to a point. Detective Inspector Gregson was also from New York, but had been working in London for the last twenty years. He had salt and pepper hair, a receding hairline, and a strong build.

I had been working for Lestrade when I met Gregson at a crime scene. I ended up working alongside Gregson's division and after the case was solved, I sought him out and rendered my help to him on a few cases. I still primarily consulted on cases for Lestrade, but whenever I wasn't working on a case for him. I would render my help to Gregson's division. Many of the cases Gregson had were easy enough to solve without my help, even if most of the staff he had working for him were incompetent people, save Sargent Bell of course. Gregson and I had taken to meeting outside of the Yard mostly. Instead of going out to crime scenes and actually investigating, I had given him the option that if he ever needed a hand on a case, we could get together and I would go over the case files for him. Gregson was a good man and I considered him a friend. He reminded me a lot of my grandfather and he always called me kid and would watch out for me. Turns out, he had a daughter slightly younger than me and therefore, felt it his obligation to keep an eye out for me.

Gregson had gotten me out of a few problems. There were a few times I had gotten injured working on a case for Lestrade and I had brushed off my injuries, only to call Gregson and have him bring me to the hospital to get treated. Gregson would sit by me while I got patched up without giving me the third degree like Mycroft and Lestrade were apt to do. I had crashed on Gregson's couch a few times, mostly back when I was still doing drugs. He knew about them, tried to help me quite. He didn't judge, not in the way that Lestrade and Mycroft did and would do. When I had stopped working cases, Gregson had supported my decision. That being said, he never stopped trying to get me interested in coming back. He would always slip me the random cold case files to keep me entertained and often times, he and Sargent Bell would take me out around my birthday or holidays and we would go drinking. They claimed that New Yorkers could drink just as much as the Irish, though they were never quite right. Mycroft didn't really approve of them, but anyone that pissed Mycroft off was definitely a friend of mine.

When I disappeared on Lestrade's case, Gregson's unit had worked with Lestrade's in the search to find me. When I was finally recovered, Sargent Bell and Gregson were part of the team that came in and took down my captor along with Mycroft and Lestrade himself. Gregson had convinced Lestrade to take Mycroft's offered help in finding me. I could understand why Lestrade might not have wanted his help. The name Holmes had a reputation in all of Scotland Yard. While we were on the subject, so did the name MacKenna. I wasn't exactly known for being the most normal person. Gregson took my personality in strides. Some days he could deal with it and others he couldn't. Sargent Bell however had gotten used to my methods and the way I acted over time. That wasn't to say that I still didn't exasperate him half the time, but both men seemed to accept that I wasn't like everyone else. I regarded them both Lestrade and Gregson with affection, though my fondness for Lestrade slightly influenced by the fact I had worked more cases for him.

Now that I was getting back into working cases, it would only be fair to render my help to Gregson as well, though some things were going to have to change. Number one, I would have to steal John away from Sherlock on occasion. John's help on my cases would be extremely useful as they generally required a medical opinion. While I was better liked in this division than Lestrade's, the medical team was still unwilling to work with me. They didn't like my methods, but vice versa, I wasn't too fond of theirs either. The best part about working in Gregson's division was the absence of Anderson and Donovan. I still had a few people in this division that had given me the nickname of freak or psychopath, but I knew to stay away from them. Sadly, Anderson and Donovan weren't as easy to avoid since Donovan was Lestrade's partner and Anderson was head of the forensics team. When I had left, many people were apparently of the impression that I had died, owing to the fact that I never came back to the division, hence my theatrical return.

I moved forward and hugged Sargent Bell and he chuckled at me as I pulled back, grinning madly at him. I hadn't seen him in at least three months, Gregson in two. We didn't get in touch nearly as much as we did after I first left. Four years passed and when it was apparent that I really wasn't coming back, I started to see the both of them less and less. I couldn't be bitter though. They had work to do and I decided to become a rubbish writer and work the occasional odd case for Mycroft. I all but became a recluse as I tried to shut the world out. Somehow, my brain was much quieter if I didn't go out and socialize. The morgue was always a nice place to hang out, though slightly morbid now that I think about it. One thing you can say about the dead though, they're great listeners. "Nice to have you back Red," Sargent Bell told me, using my old code name. I was jokingly called Red or 009 in this division, a reference to the first case Gregson had let me consult on where I had taken some James Bond and Mission Impossible techniques to solve the murder of a lawyer. Gregson also called me MacGyver, a reference to a television show about an American secret agent who could solve complex problems with everyday materials.

"Aye, it's nice to be back. I hear you heard about my cabbie case," I remarked as Gregson led me back to his office. The rest of the division went back to their work, but they still sent glances my way .I know, everyone was so excited I was back. That thought wasn't completely sarcastic either. I really didn't expect fanfare or confetti, I knew what people thought about me, but hey, that had never stopped me before. It had certainly never stopped Sherlock from consulting on cases, even with the way Anderson and Donovan constantly treated him. I ignored the looks as I walked into Gregson's office and sat on the edge of his desk, much in the manner I had Lestrade's. Sargent Bell joined me, standing beside me as Gregson shut the door behind the three of us.

"Well, everyone was talking about it in the division. Imagine our surprise when we hear that Lexi MacKenna is consulting on the suicides. Not to mention when it comes through that you're not the only one consulting on it, but there is also another guy and some doctor. That and you chased a cab throughout London and almost was killed by a serial killer until some mysterious shooter shot the creep. Here I was under the impression that you preferred to work alone," Sargent Bell remarked as he handed Gregson over a case file.

"I worked with you didn't I?" I asked Bell with a raised eyebrow and he nodded slowly.

"So who were these guys you were with Red? Has Lexi MacKenna finally given a man a chance?" Bell asked me and I shook my head, rolling my eyes. Of course he would be more fixated on that right now.

"First of all, these guys are my flatmates. Dr. John Watson retired military and Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective for Detective Inspector Lestrade," I informed him and Gregson's head snapped up at that revelation. If Lestrade's reaction to me living with two men was bad, Gregson's was going to prove to be even worse.

"Holmes is your flatmate? Do you know what they say about that guy? They call him a psychopath. Just about everyone in the Yard had heard about him," Gregson said as he threw the case file down on his desk by my leg and picked up his coffee, taking a sip as he looked at me pointedly. He never could get used to tea. He said it should be left to the Brits. He was actually the person that introduced me to coffee and had gotten me hooked. I picked up the case file and scanned it, waiting to answer him until I was good and ready. I certainly knew what Sherlock Holmes was like and he was a lot different than everyone thought he was. I looked up at Gregson as I put the case file down, staring him dead in the eyes so he would understand that I was being extremely serious here.

"He's a high functioning sociopath actually and I don't see what the problem is," I told Gregson, rolling my eyes as I handed Bell back the case file. Gregson tried to protest but I cut him off by raising my hand. "Firstly, he's Mycroft's brother. You remember Mycroft, the man who helped you find me. You liked him if I remember correctly. Secondly, my second flatmate is Dr. John Watson, ex-military doctor, so I think between the both of us we can handle him. And lastly, I am a phenomenal judge of character. Sherlock has no worse of a reputation at the Yard than I do and honestly, one of the reasons I moved in with him is because we are alike in many ways. Don't judge a book by its cover. You waited to form your own opinions about me after we met," I finished with a pointed look at Gregson. He sighed in response and put his coffee back down on the desk. Third cup in an hour, he really was at a standstill with this case. I decided to cut him a little slack. It had been a while since we worked together after all, even if it was easy enough to fall into our old ways.

"Alright, alright, but if he so much as makes you feel uncomfortable, I want you to come to me. I get that you didn't normally work cases for me, but as long as you are helping me I consider you as part of this division and I look after my own. This Holmes guy even looks at you funny, I want to hear about it from you. Same goes for this Watson bloke, even if he was an army doctor," Gregson relented before gesturing to the case file with his coffee cup as he picked it up again. "Now, Sargent Bell can take you down to the crime scene and I'll meet you there. I need anything you can give me on this one," Gregson told me as I hopped off of his desk.

"Actually, I'll meet you down there. I have to go collect my college first," I told Gregson with a smile as he walked around his desk, mug in hand, probably going to get another cup before he hit the road. It was nice that he was still so concerned with my safety. It was the one thing Mycroft couldn't fault him on.

"Not Holmes," Gregson said firmly and I shook my head at him. Sherlock would most likely not be interested in this case any way. He seemed to only be interested in murders. A missing person's case was always my specialty though. There was just something so intricate in the web of all the evidence and clues when it came to missing person's cases. Sometimes they didn't involve murder, but murder wasn't always the point of the case, sure the cases were more interesting when they involved murder, but I couldn't complain. Having a case meant that I didn't sink into the pits of boredom.

"No, not Sherlock. Dr. Watson is my assistant on cases now. If Sherlock wants to come though, I'm not stopping him. I'll meet you down there," I told Gregson with a note of finality. Sargent Bell gave me the address to the crime scene on my way out of the division and I waved at him and Gregson as I left and headed down the stairs. I found John and Sherlock in the lobby of New Scotland Yard, seemingly waiting for me. Sherlock seemed to be impatient so I assumed that it was John who kept him there. By the look on his face, I was right.

"There you are," John said looking relieved as he saw me. Behind me Gregson and Sargent Bell appeared, both nodding in my direction before they headed outside. I waved them off before turning back to John with a smile.

"Well Watson, it appears we have a case. I told Gregson and Sargent Bell that we would meet them at the crime scene," I told John as I pulled my mittens on. I looked up at him when I heard him give a noncommittal snort. "Problem?" I asked him innocently, using Sherlock's line. Sherlock was staring at me with disinterest and I brushed past him on the way to the door, turning up the collar of my coat in the process. It was something I had noticed Sherlock doing a lot and I just couldn't resist carrying on acting like him since I had already stolen his line. I had to admit, it added to the drama and mystery behind the look of the consulting detective.

"You want me to go to another crime scene with you?" John asked me sounding exasperated as I waited for him with my hand on the door. I rolled my eyes at him and sighed in exasperation.

"Yes, I thought that was quiet clear. Are you coming or not?" I asked him before looking over at Sherlock. "I suppose you can come too if you'd like. Gregson didn't say you couldn't come along as well. I'm not sure how much the case would interest you though," I told him before looking back at John. "Come along Watson the game is afoot," I told John, who was still staring at me, in my posh British voice dramatically before I pushed open the door and walked out of it like a runway model. If Sherlock could act like a drama queen so could I. I started off down the street heading for the tube station, my head held high as I smirked devilishly behind the upturned collar of my coat. From the way people were looking at me, I probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care. I was back, properly back and I was happier than ever. I just kept walking, knowing that John's need for danger and his curiosity over another case so soon after the first would get the better of him and he would end up following me. I wasn't sure about Sherlock, but a case, even a boring one, was still better than sitting in the flat all day by himself.

Not a few seconds later, John was hurrying to catch up with me, Sherlock keeping up pace with me, his coat billowing around him as he silently walked beside me. I raised an eyebrow at him, but made no comment as I continued on and made my way down into the tube station. I paid for our fare before leading the men on to the tube that had just arrived at the station. We packed inside before the tube took off again, heading for our destination. I preferred traveling by tube whenever possible. There was less traffic to have to compete with. I might have rode to the crime scene with Sargent Bell, but I decided against it for John's shake as well as Sherlock's. Firstly, I didn't really enjoy going to a crime scene in a police car and would rather pay for a cab like Sherlock. Secondly, I didn't think Sherlock, John or Bell would be able to survive that cab ride, though it would have been hilarious to see John and Sherlock sitting in the back of the car. Mycroft probably wouldn't think it was so funny though. I wasn't sure exactly what made Sherlock decide to come with me, but should he make one false move at my crime scene, I was going to have Gregson escort him off the scene. As far as I saw it this was officially my case. Lestrade had asked me to work with Sherlock on the last case and Gregson had invited me in on this one. Therefore, I did not expect to be working with Sherlock on this case. I was going to make sure that was quite clear to him before we got to the crime scene.

We stood in silence on the tube and from the look on Sherlock's face, it was not a way he liked to travel. Of course, I wasn't too fond of all the people on the tube either, but sometimes it was interesting when there was enough people to just sit and deduce them. It was how I kept in practice when I was gone for four years. When we arrived at the proper tube station twenty minutes later I walked off the tube amongst the other commuters leaving it up to John and Sherlock to catch up with me. I was testing to see if John would follow me or give up and I was trying to see if Sherlock was really going to go to the crime scene with me or not. He hadn't said anything since we had left the Yard which was slightly ominous, but I wasn't too concerned by it right now. Mycroft and I had given each other the silent treatment for three days once. The silence was only ominous because I wondered what was going on in that brain of his. I felt the need to test John's resolve because he still wasn't sure himself if he wanted to come to crime scenes or not. I was letting him have an excuse of leaving by walking ahead. He could either follow after me or claim he had lost me. I wasn't going to force him into coming. I knew the streets of London well enough that I only had to check my phone once to figure out which direction I was heading before I started off in the proper direction. John trotted next to me, just managing to keep up with my brisk pace. I slowed down slightly as I became aware of the fact that Sherlock was walking in my footsteps like a shadow. We rounded a corner and in front of us, the police had most of the street taped off. Two police vans and three cars were on the scene, the most recent ones to pull up given the tire marks being Sargent Bell's and Detective Inspector Gregson's. There were a few bystanders trying to get a look at what was going on. Lestrade had yet to hold a press conference to let the public know that they had caught the culprit behind the serial suicides or murders and I could hear everyone talking about how they thought there had been another one.

There were reporters on scene, already trying to get the scoop on what was going on. I paused for a brief moment, scanning the street before proceeding towards the police tape with John and Sherlock in tow. As soon as the reporters saw me ducking under the police tape before holding it up for John and Sherlock, they immediately swarmed us and started throwing questions our way. I ignored them as I lead John and Sherlock away from the tape and out of ear shot of the reporters before stopping and looking right at Sherlock. His eyes were scanning the street as mine had, but he had his hands clasped behind his back and he looked rather disinterested in what was going on. John looked a little uncomfortable, this being his second crime scene in two days.

"Look, I want to make one thing perfectly clear Holmes," I told Sherlock, reverting to using his last name as I returned to my professional, consulting manner. He raised his eyebrow at my use of his surname rather than his first, but I didn't care at all. As soon as I got to a crime scene, all joking around stopped. Sure, I could make the occasional comment, but I was always professional at a crime scene, more so around Gregson than Lestrade. "This is my case and my crime scene. You can observe, you can deduce, but keep it to yourself. Are we clear on that?" I asked Sherlock raising my own eyebrows at him.

"Understood," Sherlock said imply after a long moment. I couldn't decipher from the tone of his voice what he was thinking, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to know exactly. He looked at me challengingly and I narrowed my eyes at him before spinning on my heel and striding off towards the house. John followed behind me a few seconds later looking uncomfortable to say the least. I didn't like putting him in the middle of things between Sherlock and, but if Sherlock was here, he was going to have to ply by my rules. Gregson was already not exactly fond of Sherlock given his reputation at the Yard. What he thought wouldn't exactly influence me, but I knew that Gregson could make things difficult for me if he didn't think Sherlock was someone I should be hanging around. I had a feeling that Mycroft had given Gregson a few directions when I used to work with his division. I knew he had given Lestrade a few such as what to do in the event I was ever arrested while on a case.

"Gregson," I greeted the man with a smile as I stepped up to the house where Gregson and Sargent Bell were talking with another police officer. He turned around and apologized to the two men before coming over to greet me.

"Ah, Lexi, there you are, I was starting to think you got lost," Gregson said as he lifted up another row of police tape for me and I ducked under it to meet him on the other side.

"Gregson, I'd like you to meet Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes," I told him as I pointed John and Sherlock out in turn before introducing them to Gregson. "Sherlock, John, this is Detective Inspector Gregson, one of my oldest friends."

"Ha, don't say oldest," He remarked irritably and I grinned at him before patting him on the back and looking up at the building where my crime scene was apparently waiting. I was ready to get my hands dirty so to speak.

"So what have you got for me this time Gregson?" I asked him as he turned back to call out an order to Sargent Bell before he turned back to me, holding out a pair of gloves which I took from him.

"Can you put these on please?" He asked Sherlock and John as he handed them a similar pair. Mine were white however instead of the normal blue like everyone else's. He actually remembered my preference. I smiled fondly at him before I blew into my gloves, earning me a despairing look from Gregson, before putting them on as I followed him inside of the house.

I looked down the hallway he led us down, the walls lined with white panels. I raised an eyebrow as I took in my surroundings and made some deductions. Rich couple, higher class part of London. That meant they had money, possibly enemies. That could mean a lot of different things. The obvious explanation was the wife had been kidnapped for ransom, I however did not agree with the obvious explanation to any situation. I turned my head back to see that John was taking in the surroundings, looking tired while Sherlock was scanning just about everything he saw. I could see the gears in his head turning as much as mine were as he made his own deductions. So far he was keeping silent as I requested of him. It would be interesting to see how long that would last. He liked showing off just as much as I did, if not more so.

"Dr. Richard Mantlo came home a few hours ago to find his door kicked in…," Gregson said as he led us through the hall and pointed out the door which was splintered, the ground littered with bits of wood from the door. "…and his wife Amy Dampier missing," Gregson finished as he led us inside the couple's house. "That's uh… that's Mantlo over there," Gregson told me as he pointed out the husband of the victim. "He's the headshrinker out at Queen Mary's Hospital. Says he caught an emergency last night, didn't get home until 5:00 a.m. Saw the front door, called 999," Gregson continued as I looked around, noticing the boot print on the door.

The victim's husband was glancing over at us and I regarded him making my deductions. 5'6, around 180 pounds, size 8 shoes, liar. Hmm interesting, one more than I was expecting. The house itself was in immaculate condition. It had a very feminine vibe to it, fake flowers on a table by the door, a mirror behind it, and the white panels on the wall that followed into the house giving it a clinical, clean feeling. I didn't like it. "First officers on scene found signs of-of a struggle in the kitchen…," Gregson continued as I brought out my phone and took a picture of the boot print on the door. I glanced up at him in a gesture that meant for him to continue as I looked back down at my phone. "…and in the master bedroom. But no Ms. Dampier," I raised my eyebrow at that as I looked up from my phone. Ms. Dampier? That was odd.

"Ransom demand?" I asked Gregson curiously and he shook his head at me. I nodded in confirmation before brushing past him into the living room of the house.

Forensics was already on scene and combing through the living room as a few detectives watched on. They were all new to the division so they looked at me like I was invading their territory, which I kind of was. I ignored them as I started to make my deductions. The first thing I did was reach into my jacket pulling out my trusty smart looking glasses and sliding them onto my face. I nodded once to myself, satisfied before I looked around the living room and wrinkled my nose at the symmetry and just organized set up of the room. One red couch with an end table with a lamp at either end, two chairs in front of a fire place both turned at exactly 45 degree angles, on either side of the fire place set into the out cloves were tables covered in knickknacks, and the pictures on the walls above them were perfectly aligned. There was something about the room that was just off, missing even. I couldn't tell what, but it was bugging me. I looked around the room as Gregson cleared out the detectives to let me do my work. They didn't look happy that they were being forced out for me, but I could care less. After a while, you stopped caring what other people thought about you and your methods. My methods might not be normal or sometimes accepted, but they got results which was all I was happy with. I spun about the room before I stood back in place and scanned the room again.

"What is it?" Gregson asked me as he walked up to me, noticing my expression. I looked back at him frowning as I took a step towards the left alcove by the fire place. I couldn't see what I was missing and that was really annoying me.

"I'm not sure," I admitted as I walked up to the table and scanned the pictures. Rectangle frame, round frame, rectangle frame pattern, but you could tell that round frames used to be where the rectangle ones were from the pattern still on the wall that had developed over a period of time. The two pictures that had changed frames were only those that contained a picture of the wife, Amy Dampire. "Ms. Dampire's cell phone, have you recovered it?" I asked Gregson as I glanced back at him.

"We have her cell phone?" Gregson called back over to one of the detectives standing in the doorway. John and Sherlock were standing at the far end of the room and I was relieved that Sherlock seemed to be behaving himself for now. In fact, he was not actually looking around at the crime scene, but rather studying me very intently. I brushed off the creepy vibe of having his eyes watching my every move. If Gregson saw that, he was only going to have more evidence of why he felt I shouldn't live with him. John kind of looked lost as if he wasn't sure what he was doing here or what I needed him to do. "Thank you detective," Gregson said as one of the detectives brought the cell phone in and handed it off to him. He gave to it me and I pulled it out of its evidence bag quickly, handing the bag back to him in the process. The phone didn't have a pass code lock on it so it was easy enough to open up to get at what I needed. Not like a code would really stop me, decryption and cyphers were some of my favourite types of brain teasers. I opened up the photos app on the woman's phone and started flicking through them quickly. I looked up from the phone and back at the pictures on the wall. Interesting.

"Hmm. She either lost a tremendous amount of weight or underwent significant plastic surgery in the last two years," I remarked as I walked over and stood between John and Gregson. John leaned over my shoulder and looked at the pictures on the phone as did Gregson. Sherlock was still watching me with interest and I flicked my eyes up to his before glancing back down at the phone in my hands.

"She looks the same in all the photos," John commented and I nodded at him in agreement. That was what I was getting at. Watson was already proving useful to prove my point once again.

"That's my point John," I told John with a cheerful smile as I looked back up at the photos on the wall. I crossed back over to the left side and pointed out the frames. "The ovular frames are older, they've been here longer. You can tell by the way the wall has faded. The square frames, however, are newer. They are the only ones that feature Ms. Dampier. Coincidence? No," I told them as I moved back over to them and showed them the phone again. "If you check her cell phone there are no photos of her older than two years; yet there are countless pictures of other people in her life from as many as five years ago," I finished before I walked off into the rest of the house, brushing past Sherlock on my way out of the living room. I locked eyes with him as I past him and his looked back to me, cold and calculating. He was up to something and that was never good.

I quickly texted Mycroft that his brother was creeping me out before I got to my knees to examine the rug by the door more closely, leaning down to sniff it. I looked around the floor as I heard John asking Gregson about how long I had known him for. I was vaguely aware of the fact that Sherlock was standing next to me. I looked up at him and he offered a hand to help me up. I eyed it for a second before letting him pull me to my feet. I nodded at him curtly before I headed into the kitchen. My phone alerted me and I rolled my eyes at Mycroft's reply. He told me that, that was just normal Sherlock. Great. He was definitely up to something and I was going to figure out what, after I was done with my crime scene. Another Sargent was waiting inside the kitchen when I entered it, writing on a notepad as he looked down at the evidence of a broken glass on the floor. Not just one glass though, but two. I took a large step over the broken glass, standing on the other side of it. The man looked up from his notepad as he watched me looking down at the glass. There was a streak of blood on the floor, obviously Ms. Dampire's, but the amount of it suggested that she had probably cut her hand on the glass when she dropped it or used it against her attacker.

"Gregson, can you come in here?" I called to him as I looked up from the evidence. I heard the sounds of his footsteps as well as John's and Sherlock's as he came to join me in the kitchen.

"Yeah?" He asked me as he stood in the doorway.

"Ms. Dampire knew her attacker," I informed him with another look down at the broken glass. "She let him into the house herself," I finished just as the Sargent chuckled in disbelief. I flashed my eyes over to him as he pointed at me with his pen.

"Inspector, who-who is this girl?" He asked Gregson as he looked at me. I deduced him on the spot. Not married, in his forties, sexist. Well, that was lovely. I looked over at Sherlock and we rolled our eyes in unison, a small smirk working its way on both of our faces.

"There are two broken glasses here. You can tell from the volume of the shards. Obviously, she was pouring a glass of water for her guest when he assailed her," I continued, ignoring the Sargent entirely. He however had other intentions.

"Right. Is that something you would do if some nut job comes in and kicks your door in, you ask him if his thirsty?" He scoffed at me. I rolled my eyes at him before getting down on my knees and landing down on my hands to take a look under the fridge. Thank Gandhi I loved my job and was not afraid of doing hands on work. See, this was why Sherlock and I were good at what we did. We did what others wouldn't, smelling the carpet, looking under the fridge. People were so afraid of getting in close to things, to use more than just their sense of sight to see the obvious evidence at the crime scene. Sure, smelling a dead body was not a pleasant experience, but sometimes, you just had to do it to collect all of the data needed to solve the case at hand.

I grinned to myself as I saw exactly what I had been hoping to find. I was good, I was extremely good. I was on a roll. I hopped to my feet and gestured towards the pen the Sargent was holding. "Can I?" I asked him and he hesitantly reached forward and handed it over to me. "Thank you," I told him with a quirky smile before I got back down on the floor and reached under the fridge, using the pen to push the piece of glass I had discovered out from under it. "Base of glass number two," I said smugly as I jumped back up to my feet showing the broken bottom of the glass I had found under the fridge. I put the shard down on the counter and handed the Sargent his pen back before looking down at my phone again. "If you take another glance at the boot print on the front door…," I told Gregson as I brought up the picture I had taken earlier while he had been talking and handed him over my phone. "…you will see an almost unnoticeable spot of blood where the heel made contact with the door. I'm convinced that lab tests will conclude that it is the victim's blood, and therefore could only have been left there after her assault had already taken place," I continued as Gregson looked up from the picture at me.

"Bloody brilliant," John remarked quietly. I beamed at him as Sherlock rolled his eyes in the doorway. I snorted at him before looking back at Gregson.

"Ms. Dampier let the man in because he was familiar to her. Women would never let a strange man into their house, so she had to have known him and known him well enough to feel comfortable letting him in. He kicked the door in when he left to try and obscure this fact. He also took something from the living room," I told Gregson as I hopped over the broken glass and took my phone from him as I breezed past the men and back into the living room. "Do note the symmetry of the space," I remarked, wrinkling my nose slightly, as they followed me into the room. I smiled at how much they looked like little ducklings. Sherlock of course was the biter of the group. "This wall is very nearly a reflection of that one," I continued as I held my hands up and squinted as I looked at the two walls. "Pictures, pictures, knickknacks, knickknacks. I see balance everywhere except one place. I'm sure you've noticed it Sherlock," I said turning my head to look back at him with a grin.

"This space," Sherlock said speaking for the first time since we had arrived as he moved forward and pointed out they empty space I had noticed. "Something was here, what was it?" Sherlock demanded in his normal manner as the husband of the victim walked into the living room. I looked at him pointedly and made a motion for him to be quiet again before my eyes flicked over to Gregson in a warning. He rolled his eyes at me and I sighed in frustration. He just had to be difficult, not like I wasn't surprised. Mycroft had been the most difficulty man I had ever met until I had met Sherlock that is.

"Maybe this isn't the best time," John started walking between Sherlock and me trying to defuse the situation. I shook my head and looked at the victim's husband myself. Right now was actually a good time, a perfect time in fact to figure out what made the victim's husband a liar.

"No, no Sherlock is right," I agreed, Sherlock raising an eyebrow at this admission, as I turned to the victim's husband. "Please concentrate. Something used to occupy that space. I need you to tell us what it was," I told the man as I looked back at the space. I shared a look with Sherlock as I caught Gregson giving Sherlock a side long look.

"Um…an old ring box. Amy's grandmother gave it to her. Why?" The man asked me. I didn't like the way he spoke, there was just something about him that gave me a bad vibe. Call it intuition, but I had a feeling that he was somehow involved in this. I just needed to figure out how. I needed to find the facts instead of making up facts to suit my theories.

"You said there were also signs of a struggle in the master bedroom?" I asked Gregson ignoring the husband's question. There was a lot more to worry about right now and I honestly didn't feel like wasting breath trying to answer him. Gregson nodded and made a sound of agreement before he left the room, leading the way. I followed after him and made a gesture for John and Sherlock to follow. One glance at Sherlock and I caught him smirking. Against my better judgement I sent a smile his way as I headed up the stairs after Gregson. He nodded to the detective upstairs as he led me to the master bedroom.

"What is it?" John asked me as he followed behind me. "Why is it so important that the kidnapper took the ring box?" He continued as I looked back at him as I walked with a slight smirk on my face. He asked all the right questions. This is why I needed an assistant.

"Kidnappers don't take trophies John, but killers do," I told him just as Sargent "Arsehole" from downstairs scoffed loudly behind us. Oh and there he goes again. He was starting to annoy me more than Anderson and that was saying something. Either my patience was really bad today or he really was that annoying.

"There's no body genius," He shouted over Sherlock's shoulder. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"There's no blood on the front stoop or walk, either. It's rather difficult not to leave any when you're abducting someone with an arterial wound. Wouldn't you agree Dr. Watson?" I asked him as I shot the Sargent a dirty look before I brushed past Gregson and into the master bedroom. Sherlock was smirking again when I looked back his way. He seemed to find my irritation amusing. "You're certain your men have been over every inch of this house?" I asked Gregson in confirmation as I paused in the door way of the bedroom and looked back at him.

"Of course," Gregson assured me as he walked forward and entered the bedroom ahead of me. "But as you can see, there was a struggle here," He continued as I followed him into the bedroom and scanned it for the signs he mentioned. Same symmetry and neatness to the room. All this cleanliness was making me miss Baker Street's organized chaos. I walked forward into the room and walked on the side of the bed near the window. I frowned as I felt a slight difference in the floorboards. It wasn't that noticeable, but it just felt off. I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet before frowning further and looking back at Sherlock. I made a gesture for him to come over and he joined me, his eyebrow quirking as he discovered the same thing I had. I turned and walked back towards Gregson with my arms out on either side of me before looking up at Gregson and John who were both staring at me like I was nuts.

"She's in the safe room," I said quietly as I lowered my arms to my sides. I did hate it when I was right sometimes.

"What safe room?" Gregson asked me sounding confused as I looked back at Sherlock and sighed, sharing a long look with him as he nodded at me in confirmation of my theory.

"The one behind that wall," I answered him as I pointed to the wall beside the bed as Sherlock stepped out of the way.

"Husband didn't say anything about a safe room," The Sargent remarked as Sherlock and I both snapped our heads towards him and rolled out eyes in unison.

"Stop talking, you're lowering the IQ of everyone in the room," Sherlock snapped to him before looking back at me and making a gesture for me to continue. I inclined my head in his direction for his help before looking back at Gregson with a smile on my face. He looked sort of amused as he looked between Sherlock and me.

"There's a slight angle to the floor here. You can't f…," I said before trying to figure out a way to explain it. I looked around the room before my eyes landed on one of their helpful potted plants that had marbles in the pot. "It's…," I said as I darted forward and grabbed one. "…the extra weight of a safe room's steel reinforcements can cause the floor around it to decline slightly," I explained as I put the marble on the floor and watched as it started to roll towards the wall.

"Creating a slope between one and five degrees," Sherlock finished for me as we followed the marble's path. I walked forward past Sherlock and leaned over the nightstand, finding the button on the backside that would open the safe room. It clicked before a metallic creak, clacking was heard as the wall pulled back, the marble continuing its roll forward as Sherlock and I walked forward into the doorway of the safe room. Sherlock flicked on the light switch along the side of the wall as everyone leaned in to get a look. The lights revealed Amy Dampire laying in a pool of blood, gazing wide eyed up at the celling.

"Oh god," I heard John mutter behind us as he caught sight of the body. I grimaced myself as the smell of death and the coppery smell of blood reached my noise. I straightened up and looked at Sherlock who was watching me intently, judging my reaction to this new development.

"Sometimes I hate it when I'm right," I told him sadly, snapping a picture of the bruising around the woman's neck before turning around and walking away from the safe room doors. I heard John call after me, but I ignored him as I walked down the stairs and out through the front door. I took a deep breath as I reached the open air and looked down at my phone when it trilled a text alert.

* * *

><p>Received 11:23<p>

From: Emperor of Cake

_**On my way. -MH**_

* * *

><p>The text read and I looked up again over the crime scene tape as Gregson came out of the house behind me. I turned and looked back at him over my shoulder giving him a small smile. John and Sherlock stood in the doorway, John looking concerned and Sherlock just staring back at me curiously.<p>

"You alright," Gregson asked me as he stopped beside me. I shrugged at him as I put my hands in my coat pockets.

"It's just strange, being back here, working again. It's been so long and now…now it's just like I never left in the first place. A lot has changed since then though, I've changed," I told Gregson as I sighed heavily. I wasn't sure if I was ready to be back or not yet. It wasn't easy being back, but I had to start somewhere.

"I know, God Lexi, I know how hard this must be for you getting back into this, but you've been an asset to this division for many years. I'm glad to have you back kiddo," Gregson said as he gave me a hug. I scrunched up my face at his words and pulled back from the hug.

"I'll stick to MacGyver thank you," I told him patting him on the chest as Mycroft's black car pulled up beyond the police tape. I held up a hand to tell him I would be right with him before turning back to Gregson. "I'll meet you back at the Yard. I would bring in the husband for questioning. He's giving me a bad vibe. Make sure John and Sherlock come back to the Yard too," I told Gregson as I looked over at John and Sherlock who were waiting for me. I shook my head at Sherlock and he nodded to show that he understood before I made my way towards the police tape. John looked confused as I walked away, but I saluted him before turning back to the car and ducking under the police tape again.

"Give my regards," Gregson shouted after me and I laughed in response before calling back to Gregson that I would. Allen got out of the driver's seat and opened the backdoor of the car for me and I slid in the back seat with Mycroft.

He looked up at me and smiled tightly before he handed me over a steaming cup of coffee. I grinned as I took it from him and took a sip of the bitter brew. I sighed in contentment before I leaned my head down against his shoulder. He sighed as well, though in irritated acceptance to the fact that I was using him as a pillow, before the driver reversed the car and headed off towards Scotland Yard. I sat there with Mycroft, in one of the rare moments where he showed me affection. Mycroft always said that caring wasn't an advantage, but he had told me once before that I was the exception to that. Mycroft was like an older brother to me and I like a sister to him. I sighed again as I pulled my head off of his shoulder. He didn't have to say anything, the mere fact that he let me take comfort beside him was enough especially since I knew that he despised human contact. I sat back in my seat as London rushed by outside the windows.

"So how was the meeting with the Prime Minister?" I asked Mycroft nonchalantly. He smiled at me tightly as he fingered the handle of his umbrella. It was more than just a fashion statement. There were a few hidden modifications in it of my own design. There was more than one reason I had gotten the nickname MacGyver. In fact, I had made exactly three of the same specifications for him. They were a sort of thank you gift after he helped find me.

"Your knowledge of the inner workings of the British Government never ceases to amaze me," Mycroft drawled out lazily as he turned and looked at me with that smile that not only creeped me out a bit but also sort of made me want to giggle. "It went fine thank you. How is my dear brother and the good doctor?" Mycroft asked me and I made a sound as I shook my hand in a so-so manner.

"Sherlock was creeping me out earlier, but he made up for it and John is actually really good on cases," I told Mycroft as I took another sip of my coffee. I grinned at him as his face reverted back in his usual frown.

"I'll have your things moved over to Baker Street tonight. Anthea is collecting your case files as we speak," Mycroft told me as we pulled up at the Yard. I thanked him as Allen hopped out of the car and opened the door for me. I smiled at Mycroft and leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before I slipped out of the car and waved to him before bounding up the steps and into Scotland Yard. I was ready to continue with this case now. It was time to stop doubting myself and start living again.


	12. Ode To The Consulting Detective

**(A/N) Another early chappie. Look at that I've been very productive even with finals around the corner. Hope you enjoy this one, some excellent Lexi moments with Sherlock and John. I know that some of you may be questioning why I am doing own cases and that is because I don't want to just rush into the Blind Banker and tell you a month passed. I want you to see how Lexi and Sherlock developed a relationship while working together because you need to understand that so you can understand some of the things that Lexi and Lock do during that case. Also, I'm setting up some plot elements in these cases. I do start work writing the Blind Banker soon. I finish my Uni finals in another three weeks and then I'll be going on holiday for a week, so I'm going to start it then. My lovely friend Liz is going to post a chapter for you all that week and I'll make sure to post extra to keep you all entertained. -KattieHolmes**

**Notes on reviews: **

**Nellas Anwarunya- Thank you so much for the review, I am really glad to you like Lexi's character and the story! Yes, yes, and yes to your question if Lexi and Sherlock will end up together. They're relationship really starts to be a little more than friends around The Blind Banker and they sort of get together around the Great Game, but baby steps since Sherlock is a little new to everything. Yes, I love writing Mycroft and Lexi like that. Possible little spoiler for you, but I just have to... the last chapter is called Their Last Vow. Now you can ponder on what I might have done. Also Many Happy Returns spans multiple chapters. Welcome to the Baker Street Irregulars, a group of two consulting detectives, their blogger, and their author. **

**crzychigurl343-Yes, I am drawing on influences form Elementary I ended up watching the show and liking some of the case. As for characters fitting in and plot lines, the characters are people I added because I felt like Lexi would have been more apt to try and help other divisions as well, not just Lestrade's She prefers interesting cases, but understands that they all have merit. As for the plot line of Elementary, I'm not really following it. I'm just adapting the case itself to fit in with Sherlock. I omit anything but what happened while on the case and a lot of it I am changing around as you will see with the case after this one, Lesser Evils. I am writing up the Long Fuse now with many revisions as to what happened. I sort of just found a few where I liked the cases and used them as a bases for other cases for Sherlock. Hopefully you like them. **

**Song that inspired the chapter- The Rockey Road To Dublin by the Young Dubliners**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven- Ode To The Consulting Detective<p>

"My dear Watson," said [Sherlock Holmes], "I cannot agree with those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate one's self is as much a departure from truth as to exaggerate one's own powers."  
>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter <em>

I walked back into Scotland Yard and up to Gregson's division where I found John and Sherlock in Gregson's office waiting for me. Gregson informed me that they had brought the husband in for questioning like I had requested and that they were all set to start as soon as I was ready. I gave the go ahead to him and followed him back as he led me to the interrogation room. Sherlock, John, and I waited in the side room. I stood by Sherlock's side as the husband was led into the interrogation room where we got to watch him through the one way glass. Gregson and the other Sargent interrogated him for a while, asking him the same questions over and over again to try and get him to slip up and give something away. Either Mantlo hadn't killed his wife which was why he wasn't slipping up or he was really good at sticking to his story. If that was the case, this was something he a rehearsed beforehand. In short, we weren't getting anywhere with him. I looked up at Sherlock and got his attention, pulling his eyes away from the glass.

"You see it too right?" I asked him as I gestured to the husband. John looked between the two of us with uncertainty, not sure what exactly I was asking Sherlock. Sherlock nodded in confirmation before pointing to the man.

"He repeats the same words over and over as if he's rehearsed them. Odd, for a man who just found out his wife was murdered he doesn't seem to be so cut up about it,' Sherlock said, saying the last few words in a quirky way that I couldn't help but smirk over. "That could mean that the marriage was not all too happy or he just doesn't care. I prefer the latter conclusion to the former," Sherlock concluded and I nodded in response. He confirmed my thoughts as to the husband. There was still the fact that she didn't have his name. That was an odd little piece of information if ever I saw one, but I didn't know if it was relevant or not.

"For the last time, I loved my wife. I didn't hurt her, and before this moment, I had no idea there was any safe room in my house," The husband protested. Sherlock and I looked at each other at the same time and rolled our eyes in unison before turning back to the window. I giggled suddenly when I realized how stupid I had been acting earlier. I had seriously gotten all territorial over a crime scene. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in my direction as I regained my composure. To hell with it, I was going to work with Sherlock bloody Holmes. The worst that could happen was that we ended up killing each other. Of course, Sherlock was probably so stubborn that he would come back to life just to solve his own murder.

"You get why that's hard for us to believe, don't you?" Gregson asked the husband as he looked over the top of his reading glasses at him. Oh the reading glasses were out. I smiled remembering some of the old interrogations I had watched. Shit got real when the glasses were on, especially when I put my own case glasses on.

"The place was gutted before Amy and I moved in two years ago. She oversaw all of the construction," The husband said as I raised my phone and took a picture of the husband's hands. John looked over my shoulder at the picture with curiosity, but frowned when he couldn't figure out exactly what I was looking at.

"I'm sorry but, uh, are you saying she had it installed but never told you?" The Sargent asked, speaking from the corner. Gregson looked back at him in the sort of manner that said that the questions should be left to him. He sat back in his chair, rubbing his face as he took his glasses off. The husband claimed that he didn't have any idea at which time Gregson ended the interrogation and walked out of the room. I turned to the door which opened a second later, Gregson and the Sargent filing in.

"I, uh, just wanted to say thanks for helping us out today," The Sargent told me and I snorted as I looked towards Gregson. If he thought I was done, he was sadly mistaken. "You got us our guy and uh…and we're grateful. We can take it from here," He told me as he offered his hand out for me to shake. I stared down at it before smiling at him in that way the made Gregson visibly cringe.

"Respectfully, Sargent, I doubt that very much, because I have reason to believe that Richard Mantlo did not in fact kill his wife," I told the Sargent before nodding at him in finality and walking towards the door. Sherlock fell into step beside me with a smirk on his face as we walked out into the division. It felt good to tell off someone every now and again, of course it was something I normally reserved just for Anderson or Mycroft when he was really annoying me. The Sargent called for me to wait behind us as they were forced to follow after Sherlock and me.

"Come again?" The Sargent asked me as we walked through the hallway and I brought up the picture I had taken of the husband's hands on my phone again. I showed it to the Sargent, reaching across Sherlock to hand him my phone as we stopped in the hallway.

"Dr. Mantlo has girl's feet, or haven't you noticed? He's a size eight, which is saying something because I am a size ten. He has the grisliest feet I have ever seen on a guy before. Now with that bit of information at our disposal, the boot print on his front door was a size eleven," I told him thinking this would be a rather obvious explanation. I was sadly mistaken.

"So, so what? He wore bigger shoes to throw us off," The Sargent protested. Ah facts to suit theories rather than theories supported by facts. It was a capital mistake and unfortunately one made often by the best and the brightest of Scotland Yard. Of course, I said that with no amount of sarcasm at all.

"Did he also wear bigger hands when he strangled his wife?" Sherlock snapped at the Sargent, speaking for the first time in a while, surprisingly defending me. "These strangulation marks are indicative of man much larger than Mantlo. Not just heavier, but taller. I would estimate his height to be somewhere between six foot one and six foot three. Your Medical Examiner will come up with the same conclusion in a couple of hours. You're a doctor John, tell them we're right," Sherlock said gesturing toward John as he snatched my phone back from the Sargent and thrust it into John's hands, showing him the pictures of Mantlo's hands next to the picture I had taken of the victims neck just before I had left the crime scene.

"Um…," John hesitated as he looked between us all, looking rather uncomfortable that we were dragging him into things. "…well, yeah I mean these hands look a little small for the bruise pattern but…," John said before I cut him off. I wasn't trying to be rude, but I knew that John was about to say something about how it was still possible for Mantlo to be the killer even if his hands didn't match up with the marks on Miss Dampier's throat.

"Exactly the point Sherlock and I are trying to make Gregson. With your permission, I would like a moment alone with Dr. Mantlo," I said to Gregson raising an eyebrow as I watched Gregson silently contemplating my request. I knew that I was going to get my way in the end. He had called me in on this case personally and it was in his best interest to let me do my work without hindering me. He knew as well as I did that if he gave me what I needed, we could wrap up this case far sooner than if I was forced to fight him at every turn. It wasn't like I didn't know how to talk to suspects either. Gregson himself had taught me a few interrogation techniques and he knew that Lestrade had personally trained me as well as Mycroft. I could act professional when I had to be. I didn't like doing it, but I could…possibly. Well, that would remain to be seen.

"You or you and Holmes?" Gregson asked me pointedly as he looked between the two of us, as if he was unsure about the partnership we seemed to have. I knew what he thought of Sherlock, but it was up to me to change his mind.

I actually was starting to like working with Sherlock. We were actually a rather good team when we were working together. Holmes and MacKenna, I rather liked the sound of that. Of course, you couldn't forget the third member of our trio, Watson. Ah, my dear Doctor Watson. John was officially a friend of mine already. He reminded me of a hedgehog, especially after he had just gotten out of the shower and his hair was all sticky uppy. I laid my claim to the good doctor and I wasn't sure I wanted to share him with Sherlock yet. You only met someone like John once in a long while and I was not going to be giving him up any time soon. As I had said in Bart's lab, this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. My claim didn't just apply to John however. I was rather attached to Sherlock now too. There was just something about the consulting detective that always made me smile. He amused me, especially when he would get into one of his moods. I couldn't even be bothered when he snapped at me like he had only a few times that morning.

"Sherlock and I," I told Gregson with a note of finality in my voice that told him I wasn't going to budge on the matter. He watched me closely for a long moment as if testing whether he should or not. We squared off as he contemplated his decision. On one hand he knew he wasn't going to budge me on the matter so he would have to accept Sherlock's help as well as mine on this case if he let me talk to Mantlo, but if he refused to let me talk to him because I wanted Sherlock with me than this case would end up coming to a standstill. I wasn't giving him a choice and I knew that he knew that I knew it if that made any sense. I was trying to get him to accept Sherlock's help as well as mine so that he could see just how good Sherlock was, especially for me.

"You've got two minutes," Gregson told me finally as if he was reluctant to give me this permission. I beamed at him as I cried in delight, knowing that I had at least gotten him to accept Sherlock a little bit. I grabbed Sherlock's hand as I pulled him towards the interrogation room. I was slightly surprised when he let me drag him behind me and didn't try to shake me off. I looked back at him and saw that his expression was passive as he stared down at me. I heard the Sargent protesting this as we headed back to the interrogation room but Gregson ignored him, calling back to me instead. "Two minutes Lexi, do you hear me?"

"Oui mon capitaine! Loud and clear, two minutes!" I called back to him, looking over my shoulder and saluting him with my hand that was not wrapped around Sherlock's. I heard him sigh loudly just before I opened the door and burst in with Sherlock. I opened the door with enough force that it slammed into the wall causing Mantlo to jump and stare at what probably to him looked like a very crazy girl. Oh if only he knew. I grabbed a pen and a notepad from my case bag and slammed them down on the table in front of Mantlo, leaning over the table with a hand on either end of it as I got my face close to Mantlo's. I was trying to show some level of authority over the situation since I had deduced that Mantlo didn't often listen to women. He was the dominate type. "Tall men in your life, I want a list of them," I demanded him and he looked up startled. He looked between Sherlock and I, watching us carefully as if checking that I was serious before reaching forward and taking the pen and paper and scribbling a list. As soon as he handed it back I grinned at him before Sherlock and I breezed out of the room as he threw us the oddest look. Yeah, we got that a lot. We strode past Gregson and John who were still waiting in the hallway for us to return. I wouldn't put it past Gregson to actually time me to make sure that I was only in there for two minutes. I knew that with me having been gone for four years he had some reserves about how much leeway he gave me. Lestrade and Gregson weren't necessarily supposed to consult it really wasn't legal for civilians to take part in police investigations, but when they got desperate, bending a few rules didn't seem all that bad. Thankfully, the Sargent who was getting on my nerves was nowhere in sight. "A list of all the tall men in their lives. Sherlock and I will start there, see if they knew anything, get an idea of who might have wanted to kill Amy Dampier," I told Gregson showing him the list after he had caught up with us, John trailing after him.

"Alright, but I want you to keep me updated. That doesn't mean after you solved everything. I want regular updates on the case," Gregson relented after a moment. He was hesitant to give me free reign, but he knew that he had invited me on this case so he really couldn't complain about anything I did.

"Will do. John, you are coming with us," I called to John over my shoulder as Sherlock and I breezed down the hallway, our coats swishing behind us. I looked over at Sherlock who was smirking once again. "Don't look so smug. Fine, you can work with me on the case," I told him smacking him on the arm playfully. He looked down at me, his nose wrinkling adorably at the gesture. I giggled at him before rushing ahead of him through the division. I reached the door and looked back at him with a grin before I darted out of the door and down the stairs. I waited for Sherlock and John at the bottom of the stairs and we walked outside together, but not before we stopped in the door way and Sherlock and I looked at each other, flipping up the collars of our coats in unison. Sherlock hailed us a cab and the three of us slid into the backseat. Sherlock gave the cabbie the address for the hospital the victim's husband worked for, the first stop for us.

"What am I doing here?" John asked us as we finally had a moment alone. I turned to him grinning as I leaned back in the cab, relaxing. I was slightly leaning up against the detectives shoulder and he didn't seem particularly bothered by it or at least it didn't seem that way. That wasn't to say that he wasn't sitting as rigidly as possible, but he was still allowing me to stay.

"You are solving cases with Sherlock and me. I thought that was obvious," I told him as Sherlock sighed heavily beside me. I patted him on the arm as I continued to look at John. I glanced back at him and saw he was staring down at my hand as if he was trying to figure out why it was there.

"Yeah, but why am I here. Why do you need me?" John prompted us and I shrugged as I looked back at Sherlock. We didn't need him so much on the cases, but we needed someone like John. John was all heart and brave, so brave. We needed someone like him, even if we didn't truly understand why.

"You are helping us prove a point John. Besides, we find your help to be beneficial," I told him as I unlocked my phone and texted Mycroft an update about the case. He responded back a second later saying he was in a meeting and I sent him back a frowny face just to annoy him.

It was customary for the two of us to fight like siblings and try to get on each other's nerves. Our arguments were never as bad as Sherlock and Mycroft's however and that was probably because he wasn't actually my brother. Mycroft had to put more effort into our relationship than he did with Sherlock's relationship with him. Sherlock and Mycroft were related so they could couldn't get rid of each other if they tried, but ours wasn't like that. Part of me could understand that to some extent Mycroft tried harder to be a big brother to me because I reminded him of Sherlock and he held a lot of regret for not always being a brother to Sherlock. I knew that this level of sibling rivalry hadn't just been something that started when they got older. They had probably been like this since they were children. I wasn't sure if it was possible for Mycroft and Sherlock to ever forgive each other for everything that had happened between them, but one could always hope that someday they would at least learn to be more civil towards each other. That was something I could work on though.

We arrived at the hospital which was our first destination and Sherlock paid the cabbie before we slid from the back seat of the cab. We shared a look with each other before we swept off side by side into the hospital with John in tow. John was valuable to our cases, but by having him there it meant that he wouldn't be spending time alone in the flat where he could resume his limping. I inquired at the reception desk where we would find a certain Mr. Polk who the victim's husband claimed had made a pass at his wife. We were directed up to the fifth floor and the receptionist assured us that she would let him know we were on our way up to meet him. We took the lift for John's sake and I smirked slightly as I watched Sherlock huffing with impatience as he stood in front of the doors waiting for them to open. When the lift finally reached the fifth floor, Sherlock shot out through the doors before making his way down in the direction of Mr. Polk's office. I followed after him rolling my eyes fondly at the detective's actions with a grin on my face. We were met by Mr. Polk at his office and he agreed to take a walk with us and answer any questions we might have.

"Amy was a good person, but if you're here because you think I had something to do with it…," The man started out as we walked down the ward with him. Sherlock was making deductions about him as we spoke while I focused on other aspects of the man. Working with Sherlock actually did make for a good partnership, the way we deduced things was different. Meaning we each discovered different things in the same person.

"Dr. Mantlo said you made a pass at her at a holiday party last year," I said cutting the man off. I was not about to listen about how he was innocent and blah dee blah dee blah. It was always the same story with these people. They couldn't have done it because they were a good person and would have no reason to kill the person. Anyone could be a murderer. Polk stopped walking, bringing us all to a halt. I cocked my head to the side as I studied him, trying to figure out more about his relationship to the victim.

"Actually no, I didn't," He snapped at me before continuing. "I asked her about all the plastic surgery she had." Yes, I was right about that back at the house. So she had plastic surgery and didn't want anyone to see any pictures of her from before.

"Plastic surgery?" I asked him excitedly as he caught my interest. I flashed a grin at Sherlock who was still looking bored. Well, I needed to fix that.

"Okay, look, I helped plan a fund raiser for the hospital two years ago, that was before the surgeries. I know I still have the pictures," Mr. Polk told us before striding off towards his office. I shrugged at Sherlock before following off after him.

We followed him into his office where Sherlock discretely scanned the room as Mr. Polk looked up the pictures on his computer. I scanned the room myself, clean office, two chairs and a desk. Void of many personal touches. The only thing that seemed out of place in the room was the clothing and shoe box on one of the chairs. John nudged me suddenly, giving me a look before he gestured to the shoe box. Size eleven feet, an unusual coincidence, but one none the less. Mr. Polk found what he was looking for as I turned back to John and nodded to show that I had seen what he meant.

"There," Mr. Polk said as he swivelled his computer screen around for us to see. "That's a picture of Amy and Dr. Mantlo that I took that night, okay? Tell me you wouldn't want to ask her why she did it," He said defensively as we looked down at the picture of Amy before her plastic surgery. She looked completely different than she did now, she had even dyed her hair from blonde to red.

"Tell me about the stalking charge brought against you?" I asked the man trying to look imposing. Being the little Irish consultant did not have the same effect as Sherlock with his tall, dark, mysterious and cold demeanour had.

"I asked my neighbour out. She overreacted," The man said and I raised my eyebrow. Yeah, whenever I get asked out on a date I just assume someone is stalking me. Not that I get asked out on dates, but my reaction would still be the same hypothetically. I didn't have enough first-hand experience. I technically had never been on a date before or even kissed so I wasn't really one to go to for relationship advice.

"Mr. Polk can you tell us where you were last night?" John asked him, his military stance coming back. Sherlock and I both looked at him, surprised that he had spoken up.

"Home…alone. I know, Not much of an alibi, but I don't care, because I didn't do it," Mr. Polk told us and I looked up to Sherlock who nodded at me, confirming my thoughts that we were done here.

"Well then, thank you for your time. I think that is all the questions we had for you," I said putting emphasis on my Irish lilt as I let it slip through. "Sherlock, John," I said as I moved to the door, ready to leave. John and Sherlock joined me as we walked down the ward and Sherlock made the choice of taking the stairs.

"So, he has the same shoe size. Is he the murderer?" John asked us as he struggled to keep up with us. I looked back to him with a grin as I pulled out my phone to text Gregson and update him with what was going on in the case. I let him know that we would be heading back to Baker Street to review the evidence and see if we could make a connection to one of the people on the list we had been given.

"No, not the murderer, but good John, very good find," I complimented him as I stowed my phone away. "His body language said "sub", not "dom". I don't think he would actually have the berries to take another life," I explained to John before I looked over at Sherlock. "We should head back to Baker Street and review the evidence. That might find us a better lead than interviewing everyone," I suggested as we reached the first floor and headed for the exit.

"I agree, this process is become tedious," Sherlock told me with a note of boredom in his voice as he stepped out and flagged down a taxi for us. We piled into the back of the cab which sped off towards Baker Street. I needed some of the things from my flat if we were going to be reviewing things. Hopefully Mycroft had already had what he knew I would need brought over.

"So this is what you do for a living? You solve puzzles?" John asked us as London rushed by outside the cab windows. I nodded at John with a grin.

"Yes, wonderful right?" I asked him before turning to the cabbie. "Stop here please," I told him without giving an explanation to either John or Sherlock. The cabbie pulled over and stopped like I requested and I motioned for Sherlock to exit the cab. He slid from the taxi, looking at me curiously before I got out behind him. John stared up at me in confusion from inside the cab and I huffed. "John, sometime today," I told him before he jumped and moved, getting out of the cab beside me. I leaned inside the open window and paid the cab driver before stepping up onto the street, pulling my jacket around me.

"Why did we stop here? We're a few blocks away," John asked me as he and Sherlock joined my trek down the street. I linked my arms with him and a disgruntled Sherlock before grinning widely.

"Because I happen to know of a little pub that sells the best fish and chips this side of the city and it's time for lunch," I told him as I led them down to the little Irish pub I had discovered just after I first moved to London. The Auld Dubliner was a favourite of mine when I was looking for some good food from home. I opened the door for them and ushered them inside the pub, leading them to one of the back booths further away from the door and the rest of the patrons. I slid into the booth next to Sherlock before I got the attention of the man behind the bar and he came bounding over with a booming laugh upon catching sight of me.

"Lexi MacKenna!" The man said in a thick Irish brogue as he came and slapped his hands down on the table in front of me and stared at me. The older man had grey curling hair and a moustache and beard to match.(**A/N I imagine him looking like Billy Connoly**) His thick eyebrows were lifted in his amusement and his eyes crinkled as he boomed merrily again. "A sight for sore eyes if ever I saw one lass," He said as he straightened up and clapped me on the arm. "And who are your gentleman friends?" He asked me with a mischievous grin as he looked between Sherlock and John. Sherlock was smirking slightly, but John was fidgeting in his seat at having been put on the spot.

"Leave them alone Fergus," I told the man as I slapped him on his arm. My accent was thick as I spoke and John looked at me with wide eyes while Sherlock only smirked wider. "Tis John and Sherlock," I told him introducing them, falling right back into my old manner of talking.

"Well, any mates of yours are always welcomed here. You're usual?" He asked me and I nodded with a grin. I could already smell the beer battered fish and the chips cooked to perfection. This was one of my favourite places to come when I was working on cases. I would celebrate here with Gregson after we a solved a particularly difficult case. Fergus' sons Connor and Murphy ran the pub with him, they were slightly younger than me and both rascals, but Fergus kept them in line.

"Aye, but we'll leave off the Guinness, I'm on a case," I told him and he looked at leaned back looking at me pointedly. I peeked over at Sherlock who I found to be deducing Fergus. I caught his eye and smirked slightly before turning back to Fergus.

"Aye is that it? Back to working on the cases are ye? I thought you said you we done with that," Fergus teased raising one of his eyebrows. I smacked him on the arm again as I laughed. Fergus teased me more than anyone, probably because he said I was a spitfire of a little Irish lass.

"Oh shove off," I told him with a laugh and he raised his hands in a defensive gesture before he grinned and backed away from our table grinning.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Fergus told me with another booming laugh. "Just sit there lassie, it'll be out in a bit," He told me before he left us and headed for the kitchen. I rolled my eyes at his retreating form before turning back to look at John.

"That's Fergus," I told John, my accent still thick. I didn't even both to try and cover it up like I normally did. When I was working, I reverted to my British accent as it sounded more professional and made it easier to conduct interviews with witnesses, but when I was not consulting I tended to slip into my Irish brogue. "Don't mind him, he likes to tease people," I continued before I looked back at Sherlock. "So what did you learn? Share with the class," I told him with a grin as I put a hand under my chin and grinned at him expectantly.

"Sixties, not married, has two sons, obviously, he was yelling with them in the kitchen just now. You know him well enough so this is some place you frequent often. Probably because he reminds you of your grandfather who died when you were a teenager," Sherlock told me, his deep baritone fitting right in in a place like this. I smiled at him and nodded with a grin.

"Aye, another brilliant deduction," I told Sherlock as Fergus returned with three frozen mugs of the house speciality drink, a frozen cream soda and butterscotch brew. "Cheers!" I thanked him as I raised my cup and saluted him with it before drinking. Sherlock eyed his own mug as John picked his up and took a sip making an appreciative sound. "There's no alcohol in it Lock. I wasn't lying when I said I don't uphold the Irish stereotype," I told Sherlock who threw me an irritated look before he picked up his mug and took a sip. He swallowed quickly before setting his mug down and grimacing. I could see in his eyes however that he liked the brew, of course he would never give me the satisfaction of knowing this fact. "You don't have to drink it if you don't like it," I told Sherlock as I moved to slide his mug away from it. He caught it before I could and picked it up taking another sip before he set it down on the other side of him away from me. I looked up at John and we both smiled at each other in amusement.

"Here we are. Just as you like it," Fergus said as he came over, his arms ladened with three baskets of fish and chips. He set them in front of us before leaning back and grabbing a bottle of malt vinegar for me from one of the other tables. "Enjoy lass," He told me before he moved away back to the bar. John looked down at his basket and dug in with gusto as I poured vinegar over my chips and fish. Sherlock looked down at his with distain and I saw that look in his eyes again that he gave me before he said he wasn't hungry that morning.

"It's not going to kill you," I joked as I picked up one of my chips and popped it into my mouth as I watched him pointedly. I sighed in contentment as the salty vinegar chip hit my taste buds. It was like a little tiny corner of heaven. John looked equally as happy, but Sherlock only looked irritated.

"I don't eat when I'm working on cases, digestion slows me down," Sherlock remarked as he sat back in his seat and folded his palms under his chin as he flicked his gaze over the other patrons, deducing them.

"Aye, but technically you aren't working on case. Tis my case which I might ask you a question about on occasion," I pointed out with a little grin, finding a loophole to his 'I don't eat on case' malarkey. Sherlock eyed me for a long moment, seemingly considering what I had said. Without warning his hand darted forward and he stole one of my chips. "Oi!" I shouted at him, trying to slap his hand away, but he had already popped the chip in his mouth and chewed it with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Problem?" He asked me with a raised eyebrow as John laughed hysterically as he watched our bickering.

"Yes, you have your own," I told him as I slid my food closer to me and stuck my tongue out at him. "And you…" I said as I rounded on John who stopped laughing as soon as I fixed my gaze on him. "…better watch yourself Watson," I warned him causing him to look slightly alarmed as he probably was remembering my reaction to Anderson.

"Fighting words if ever I heard any," Fergus remarked as he walked over to our table. "I'd watch out for this one lads. There's a reason we call her the little Irish spitfire around here," Fergus told them, jumping back before I could smack him again. He winked at me with a smirk on his face before he walked away to go scold his sons again. Apparently the boys were getting up to their antics again.

I grumbled to myself as I ate another chip. Sherlock was smirking as he actually started eating his own food. I took out my phone and before he could protest, snapped a picture of him just as he took a bite of his fish. I grinned as he shot me an irritated look as I texted the picture off to Mycroft with the caption, 'A wild Sherlock emerges and partakes in the battered fish.' I giggled to myself as I realized that I could start a whole nature documentary. Maybe Mycroft could get a hold of David Attenborough for me. I could already picture it. 'The consulting detective is seen here in his natural habitat.' John and Sherlock both looked at me as I continued to giggle before John just shrugged at Sherlock and carried on eating.

"Don't judge me with your judgy eyes," I told Sherlock who quirked an eyebrow at me questioningly before I took a bite of my fish and ignored him. The three of us finished our lunch, John striking up a conversation with me about some of the things I used to do over at Bart's. Sherlock seemed interested to learn that I used to use the labs for experiments, though he remained silent and only stared at me in that semi creepy way where you just knew he was studying you. The looks really didn't bother me though. Most people might feel uncomfortable under his gaze, but I had no problems with it at all.

I sat back as I pushed my basket away from me and took a sip of my still frozen brew. I couldn't believe how much my life had changed in just three days. In three days, I had met John and Sherlock, got caught up in the killer cabbie case as I was now calling it, and I was now working as a consulting detective again. I liked the title that Sherlock had come up with, it sounded far more professional. As odd as it seemed, it was so easy to just get back into my old ways and old routines. Four years later and it seemed like I had never left. I hadn't made deductions like this in years, but it was like a muscle memory, you never truly forgot how to do it. I was proud of myself to be sure. This was the first time I had actually worked with someone who could see the same things I could, make the same connections I did. John was as valuable as Sherlock as well. Working with them made a difference. Sherlock was, well, annoying at times, but he was no worse than Mycroft. Actually, scratch that, he was actually better than Mycroft. Though I might never admit it out loud, I sort of enjoyed the companionship we had fallen into.

At least if I was going to be living with two people, they could understand me and my odd quirks. Sherlock and I would probably get on just fine and with all the patience John seemed to have, he and I would be thick as thieves after a while. Fergus was right when he said I hadn't earned my title as a spitfire for nothing. Sherlock and John were completely safe, for now at least. The only one on my burn list currently was Anderson and he was extremely lucky that I was exhibiting a fair amount of self-control of late. If Sherlock wanted my help on one of his cases, I would offer it without question. If he chose instead to want to keep me out of it, I would comply with his wishes. I wasn't here to take over his job. With that being said, I would work with him on my own cases. I enjoyed his and John's company. If anything it offered up some amusement. Fergus came by the clear off the table and I tried to hand him over some bills, but he waved them off.

"I won't accept that from you lass. Think of it as celebrating your return to the business you were meant to be in," He told me, putting emphasis on the word meant. I began to protest but he waved me off. "Get back to yer case lassie and think no more of it," He told me before he walked away so I wouldn't be able to argue with him. I shook my head at his retreating form before sighing and standing.

"Well, we best head back to Baker Street. Maybe Mycroft will have moved my stuff over already," I remarked as Sherlock and John slid out of the booth. I pulled my mittens back on and wrapped my coat around me tighter as we stepped out into the brisk London air once again. I linked arms with John and Sherlock again as we took off down the street, heading back to the flat. I giggled as John told me some stories about some of his military buddies. Sherlock watched us in silence, but I caught him smirking on occasion.

Mrs. Hudson let us back into the flat and started tittering away, telling us that some men had been over while we were out and brought in a lot of boxes up stairs. "There was a lovely girl with them. Oh what was her name? Anthea I think was. She told me to tell you that she had all your stuff unpacked dear," Mrs. Hudson told me as she followed us up into the flat. My stuff had been moved around the flat and Anthea had set up my book case in the back corner. The room had a little more clutter to it now which didn't bother me at all, in fact I thought it added a bit more character to the room. I breezed into my bedroom and noted that Anthea had stacked my case files up in the corner or at least the few boxes of case files I had in my flat. There was a note pinned to one of the boxes that said Mycroft was keeping the rest of him at his flat for me. I grinned as I crumpled the note and pulled my giant cork board out from where Anthea had stowed it and brought it into the living room. I threw John my phone as I pulled the board in front of the fireplace and pulled John and Sherlock's chairs aside.

"Text Gregson and ask him to email me the crime scene photos," I told John as Sherlock walked back into his room, obviously taking inventory to make sure none of Mycroft's men had touched any of his stuff. John sighed in exasperation before he complied with my request. I took my laptop from my case bag and booted it up, putting it on one of Sherlock's desks.

"He said he just sent them over," John told me as he threw my phone back over to me. I caught it gingerly and put it on the desk next to my laptop.

"Cheers John!" I said, flashing a smile at him before I turned back to my computer and typed in my password. Sherlock sat in his chair watching my progress as I connected my laptop with his printer and printed out my crime scene photos.

I ran back into my room and found my Sharpies, thumb tacks and tape, and my poster sized paper. I brought my craft supplies back into the living room and started setting up my board as John and Sherlock watched me with interest. I hummed La Habanera under my breath as I taped the paper to my board and started tacking up the pictures, drawing lines and writing names on the paper in my red Sharpie. It was a sort of visual representation of the way my brain processed the information on the case. Once I was satisfied with my work I stepped back to admire my collage before nodding and picking up my viola on my way over to Sherlock's chair. I sat down, earning an irritated look from Sherlock for this action, and started tuning it as I studied my board. John stared at it before looking back at me. Sherlock on the other hand had adopted his prayer pose and was lost in his own thoughts. I narrowed my eyes at my board before lifting my viola up to my chin and playing a few notes. I begun playing Bach's Partitia No. 2 in D Minor. It was supposed to be played on the violin, but I found that I liked the sounds of the notes better on the viola. John watched me play in almost awe as my fingers moved quickly across the strings. I closed my eyes and let the images flash through my mind as I tried to make sense of the case. I frowned as my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone climbing the stairs. The sounds of someone clearing their throat made me open on eye, but I continued playing.

"It's you," John said in disbelief as my eyes fell on Mycroft. I opened my eyes fully and saw that he had a bust tucked up under his arm. I grinned as he nodded his head in my direction. I stopped playing instantly and set my viola down, leaning it up against Sherlock's chair, and darted over to him, taking the bust from him.

"You brought Angus!" I said with delight as I regarded my bust. It was actually a bust of Mozart, but I digressed. "Yorrick has a friend now," I told Sherlock with a grin as I crossed over to the mantle and set him up next to the skull. "Yup, just what the flat needed," I said as I turned back to Mycroft who was leaning against his umbrella casually as Sherlock started at him murderously. "Oh hey, no domestics in the flat," I warned them as John looked worriedly between the two of them.

"No worries, I just came to bring that monstrosity over," Mycroft said with a grin and I frowned at him. Angus a monstrosity? Never!

"That's rude, he has feelings you know! Don't worry I love you Angus," I told the bust as I looked over at it. John coughed and I looked down at him and rolled my eyes before I went and plopped down in Sherlock's chair again, swinging my legs over the arm of the chair.

"Hmm amusing. Your bees have been relocated to the roof," Mycroft drawled as he flicked lint off of his jacket before looking down at his nails in disinterest.

"Wait sorry? Bees?" John asked me as I grinned back at Mycroft. He even relocated my bees for me. I had two hives that I had painstakingly set up and had taken care of for the last four years. It was one of the reasons why I was so interested in Sherlock's book on beekeeping. Well, maybe we could bond over the bees. It had started off as just something for a case but then I had gotten quite interested in the whole thing and had ended up with two hives before I had known it.

"Yup, bees. I have two hives. Don't worry, they're docile…mostly," I assured him as I picked up my viola and resumed playing. "I'm writing a book. Practical Handbook of Bee Culture with Some Observations Upon the Segregation of the Queen. Up here," I told John as I pointed to my head. "I'm on Chapter 19 right now," I told him before I turned back to Mycroft. "Thank you for moving them Croft."

"Of course, I'll leave you to your case," He told me before he looked over at Sherlock who was still watching him murderously. "Always good to see you brother mine," Mycroft told him smiling tightly.

"Piss off Mycroft," Sherlock snapped at his brother as he sneered at him. Yeah, getting them to be civil towards each other was going to take a lot of work.

"Boys, play nicely," I chided as I rose and put my viola away. I ushered Mycroft to the stairs with a sigh. Why did I have to play the referee between them? Their feud was absolutely childish. "Now, you have that meeting with the Ambassador of Belgium to attend. You know how he hates it when people are late," I reminded Mycroft who only stared back at me passively. "Oh and Anthea told me that last week. I didn't hack your schedule again," I told him as I patted his arm.

"Try not to burn down London," Mycroft remarked which was as fond of a farewell as I was going to get. He walked down the stairs and I snorted as I followed him down.

"Yeah because I am just itching to burn down the city at every waking moment Croft. Now run along while I go back up there and convince Lock not to murder you," I told Mycroft who raised an eyebrow at the nickname I had given Sherlock. It had taken Mycroft two years to earn his and it had only taken Sherlock a full day before he had gotten his. I didn't know what the meant exactly. I opened the door for him and Anthea was standing there waiting outside on her phone in front of Mycroft's black car. "Anthea, thank you for moving in my stuff," I thanked her from the door way as Mycroft walked over to his waiting car.

"You're welcome," She told me, looking up from her phone for a brief second to flash me a brilliant smile before she looked back down at her phone. I shook my head at her as she wordlessly slipped into the car, her eyes still glued to her phone. I happened to know for a fact that she didn't always do work on there. I had caught her playing Tetris more than once.

"Take care of yourself," Mycroft told me before he got into the car. I saluted him dutifully before his car pulled away. I stepped back inside out of the cold and shut the door behind me, leaning against it as I laughed to myself and shook my head in disbelief. If one Holmes brother was bad, knowing two should earn me a medal.

I pushed myself off of the door and stomped my way back up to the flat. John looked around at me looking baffled as I noted that Sherlock had disappeared. Probably to his room to have a little tantrum over Mycroft invading his fortress of solitude. "Well Watson, looks like it's just you and me," I remarked as I sat back in Sherlock's chair and stared at my board. "Now, who killed Amy Dampire?" I asked him as I picked up my viola again and mulled over the question I had posed. "There's something that doesn't make sense. Let's poke it with a stick," I remarked as I began playing one of my own compositions that had been on my mind since I met the consulting detective, I liked to call it Ode to the Consulting Detective.

**(A/N) The song she is playing is Pursuit which can be found on the first Sherlock soundtrack if you want to hear it. Imagine it played on a violin or better yet, check YouTube for someone that actually has. ViolinistBAKA has a great version of it. Technically she is play The Game Is On part. **


	13. Meeting the British Government Special

**(A/N) I was going to wait to post this until I had 100 followers but I love you all so much that I am posting it early. Just so you are all aware of to things. mOne this chapter is not a continuation of the case and that will be posted at the end of next week. This is a chapter that explains how Lexi and Mycroft first met! Yea! Secondly, FanFiction is messing up which means I can't upload chapters like I normally do. I had to copy and paste this chapter and then go through to fix it because it was all one long paragraph. I'm hoping that this issue will be resolved by the end of next week when I go to post another chapter because this was already a pain to post and it was half as long as the next chapter. If I still can't upload the chapter I will post a note and the chapter will be posted to my Tumbler page until the problem gets fixed. Thank you for following and favoriting my story and sticking with me thus far. Lots more to come! Cheers-KattieHolmes**

* * *

><p>I got myself ready in my dingy flat. It was a hell hole with mould growing growing around the yellow wall paper. It was like a really bad horror movie with the lights that flickered and plumbing that made noises in the dead of night. All I had was my bed, a few changes of clothes, and my science equipment. When I had left Ireland over two years ago I had only taken the bare essentials with me. I had yet to purchase anything else so my flat was void of all personal touches. I didn't really care about possessions anyway. They really didn't fit into my drug habit. I looked at myself in the mirror and scoffed aloud when I saw my reflection. I was wearing the most expensive dress I could afford at the moment. It was a beautiful black dress with a v neck front that plunged down showing an ample amount of cleavage. The sleeves were long owing to the slight chill in the air as it was nearing September. There was a huge silver star pattern on one side and key hole cut out in the back of the dress. The most defining feature however might have been the slit up one side. I paired the dress with a pair of silver stilettos that looked rather expensive and I set of jewellery that looked expensive, but wasn't. As long as I looked and acted the part I would be fine. Tonight I was weaselling my way into a government party for a case.<p>

I was going to be under the guise that I was the French Ambassadors daughter which was why I had needed the dress and my hair to be up in the most uncomfortable twisted up do. All of the bobby pins were pressing into my skull and I doubted I would last all night before the urge to tear them all out over came me need to act respectable. I could smooze up to people to find out more about the government official's wife that had been murdered. I had learnt a bit of French, enough to get through the night. I doubted everyone would know it, odds are probably not. The French Ambassador was known to have a daughter of course I had checked and no one at the party had ever met her. Since the Ambassador himself wasn't coming I was all clear to be able to pull of my big heist. Government officials were some of the most unobservant lot. If you acted like you were important and projected confidence you could fool them into thinking anything. They were all posh idiots in my opinion. I looked down at the prepared syringe on my bathroom counter. That was the other reason I had to go for long sleeves. I constantly had to hide my arms under jumpers even in the dead of summer just so Lestrade wouldn't find out about my drug habit. I didn't even know when I had started with it, at least I couldn't remember exactly. I contemplated just taking a little to get me through the night, but I immediately discarded the thought. I had to be on my game tonight. I was trying to quit, but the withdrawal symptoms always stopped me from being able to.

With one final once over to make sure everything was in place, I grabbed my small hand bag and marched out of my flat ready for battle. I hailed a cab, the cabbie looking me over. Single, frequents gentleman's clubs. That was why he had stopped in the first place. I told him to take me to Buckingham Palace and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he looked back at me and then the flat I had just come out of. I wasn't exactly living in the richest part of London. "You sure that's where you want to go?" The cabbie asked me his Cockney accent thick.

"Oui zat is where I am going," I told the cabbie in my French accent that I adopted for the night and he shrugged, turning back in his seat before he pulled out onto the road which was thankfully traffic free.

"Suit yourself lady," The cabbie told me as he started driving. "So French huh?" He asked me and I could catch him looking at me from the review mirror. From the height of his eyes and the trajectory of the mirror I could tell he was looking somewhere he shouldn't be.

"Oui," I told him before looking out of the car window. I could already feel the headache coming on. I should have taken just a little before I left but it was too late now. I already had a plan for how to get past security at Buckingham Palace and I had created the essential forms of identification for the evening. Combine that with my skills and I was ready for the night to begin.

As soon as the cabbie pulled up at the gates of the palace, I paid him and he looked at me oddly before he drove off obviously wondering who in hell I was. I grinned at that. If only he knew. Lexi MacKenna detective for the police, but not actually working for them and drug addict. Well, tonight I was Jacqueline Delattre, French Ambassador's daughter. I just had to get in first. I already knew that everyone was arriving through a separate entrance instead of the front gates. I couldn't just go and walk into the entrance without arriving in a fancy car. Therefore, I had figured out the security measures put in place for the evening. It had taken some hacking , a few weeks of dating one of the guardsmen and getting him drunk, the Brits can't tolerate their liquor well, before I was able to figure out how the set up was. All of the guardsmen would be at the other entrance which meant that I had to find another way in. Just around the corner there was a dim lit area where a large tree grew, its branches hanging over the side of the high gates. I didn't get my nickname of 009 for nothing. It was time to put my skills to the test.

I took two hair elastics out of my purse and gathered my skirt up into two ball on either side of the slit before tying them in place so my legs were free. I took off my heels next and threw them over the fence. I timed it just right so the CCTV camera was on a sweep of the yard and not of the gate at the time. I started climbing, thankful for the low branches and then froze as the camera panned back around. These were motion censored. If they sensed movement they would snap a picture and alert security. The camera slowly panned back towards the yard and I let out a sigh of relief as I climbed further before repeating the process. It took three times of the start and stop process before I was sitting on a branch inside the compound. I waited until the camera panned away before dropping to the ground, rolling as I hit it so that I wouldn't hurt myself. I laid on the ground where I ended as the camera passed over my again. As soon as it swung away I grinned to myself. That had been way too easy. Maybe I would put in a recommendation that they tighten security after this. I got up, grabbing my heels and slipping into the shadows. I remembered how far the cameras caught and I was able to time my run in between two cameras. It was a lot of dodging security measures, but in the end I had made it up to the house. I knew that everyone would be on the back terrace which was where I could slip in to the party unnoticed.

I walked the perimeter of the palace before stopping within a short distance of the sounds of ballroom music. I quickly undid the elastics around my dress and put my heels back on. I did a final check on my hair before I walked forward towards the sounds of life. I was nervous yes, I could get caught at any second and I knew Lestrade wouldn't be able to get me out of this. He had already put enough on the line for me in the past when I did something that wasn't strictly legal while working on a case. If I was caught my ass was grass as the Americans would say. When I was within eyesight of the terrace, I was relieved to find everyone in the middle of conversations and therefore not paying attention to the girl walking up to the terrace from the lawn. I crept over to a dark area of the terrace and slipped over the wall as gracefully as a cat before straightening myself out and striding from the shadows. I froze for a few seconds, waiting for someone to point at me and say something about me being here, but no one so much as said anything. I sighed in relief before I started walking through the throng of government officials.

My best bet tonight was to act like I didn't know much English. I threw myself into the crowd of people milling about and drinking expensive champagne. I grabbed myself a glass from a passing waiter before I found myself a good observational point. I slowly started going through everyone in the room trying to deduce them. I knew that the officials wife had been killed by someone in the government, but I didn't know the who or the why. The first hour passed without me getting caught and my confidence grew immensely. I started mingling with the other guest, introducing myself as Jacqueline Delattre. No one saw through my ruse and they were actually quite amused as I "struggled" to speak in English. I threw a lot of French words in there as well. Smoozing was easy. All I had to do was flirt with the older men for them to start telling me things, including things about the official's wife who I found out had a pretty nasty temper. Charm worked wonders for getting what you wanted. It worked enough times on Lestrade which was why I had my own office at the Yard. Two more hours into the party and I had the feeling that someone was watching me which was unnerving to say the least. I looked around and found the man who was watching me. He was tall, younger than a lot of the men here and wore an immaculate three piece suit that I bet cost a pretty penny. He had a high forehead and a sophisticatedly cut short brownish ginger hair. His eyes looked right through me and I couldn't help the frown that slipped through the mask I had put on for the evening. It looked like he was reading me. His face was turned up in a grimace and his eyes never left me as I milled about the party.

I tried to ignore the man watching me, but I snuck peeks at him every so often. I always did it while talking to someone who was sitting in that direction so it wouldn't seem obvious. I didn't like the way he was watching me. It felt, well it felt like he was reading me like I did to people. The music started up and the dancing began. I stood back near the wall, bored to tears already and just hoping that the evening would end soon. My headache had gotten worse and the nausea and chills had started. I really should have taken just a little before I had left. I hadn't taken any in a while before then too. I jumped when I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around and came face to face with the gentleman who had been watching me most of the night. He was doing it again, reading me, but it was much different now that we were closer together. I read him as well. Government official, more power than he lets on, in his forties, younger brother who he doesn't get along with, stress lines meant hard day at work, not married. I was surprised to learn that I couldn't get anything else from him. All of those readings had been basic and surface level, but I couldn't read anything deeper than that. I definitely didn't like that.

"Would you care to dance?" The gentleman asked me his voice light and very posh. His frown turned up into a tight smile and I could almost see the challenge he posed in his eyes. He was seeing if I would take the bait. I put my hand in his offered one and nodded.

"Oui," I told him and let him lead me over to the dance floor where we positioned ourselves for a waltz. We started dancing and I was instantly thankful for the dancing classes that my grandfather had forced me to take when I was a girl.

"I don't believe we have met before," The man said as we turned around the dance floor. I laughed, trying to hide my nervousness. He made me uneasy. It felt like he could see right through my guise.

"No, I do not believe I 'ave had the pleasure," I told him, laying on my French accent thickly. He raised an eyebrow at this before he started speaking in fluent French.

"Pourrais-je vous demander votre nom?"(Might I ask what your name is?) He asked me his words sliding out so flawlessly. I was instantly confused as I had no idea what he was saying. He saw the hint of confusion on my face and grinned. I knew I was screwed. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't like the rest of the officials who had been so easily fooled. "Vous êtes évidemment pas français et mentez," (You are obviously not French and are lying) The man continued looking smug as I started to really panic. "So," The man said reverting to English. "I'll ask you again, might I ask what your name is?"

"Jacqueline Delattre," I told him, proud of myself that my voice didn't wavier. I had to hold on to my fake identity long enough to get away from him and leg it out of here. The way his hand tightened around my waist, keeping me in place told me he wasn't letting me run off any time soon.

"Hmm, I don't recall you getting plastic surgery. I will say, it was a good ruse, but unfortunately for you not everyone was fooled by your lies. I have recently had the pleasure of meeting with Ms. Delattre. You are not her. Would you like to try again?" The man asked me as we stopped dancing and stood in the middle of the dance floors, the rest of the couples dancing paying us no mind as they danced around us.

"No one you should concern yourself with," I spat at him, shaking his hands off and hurrying off. I made it past the guards in front of the ballroom, finding my way out before a hand suddenly latched around my wrist and I was dragged into a study like room. I whirled around and faced the man as he guarded the door. I lunged at him, hoping to slip past him, but he blocked me, a smirk on his face.

"Ah, ah, not so fast. There, isn't this lovely?" The man asked me as I stood there, my chest heaving in anger. Why couldn't he just let me leave? "I want to know how a drug addict managed to bypass all security measures put in place for this evening and lie their way into a government party,' The man told me and I blinked in surprise, it was like he had read my mind.

"I'm clever," I snapped at him as I started pacing like a caged animal. "And your security measures are crap," I told him bluntly, my French accent slipping into a mixture of my Irish and British. I was right in thinking he wasn't a normal government official. More power than he let on. He wasn't here to mingle, he was here to make sure the evening went down without any trouble. He was head of security for the night.

"Ah, Irish. So do you still want to be difficult or would you like to tell me how and why you got in?" The man asked me and I stopped pacing to stare him down. I had one idea for how to distract him. I had to distract him after all.

"Why I got in was because one of your government officials killed his wife because she was having an affair with another man in government. As for the how, your security measures need a lot of work. It was too easy to climb over the gates and cross the lawn. As I said, I'm clever. I know for instance that you are in your forties. You hold more power in government than you actually let on. You've had a stressful day, probably because you had to make sure this party went down without a hitch, more than likely it was also because your younger brother was making your life difficult. You don't get on well, wasn't that far of a stretch," I told him, keeping a straight face as I shared my readings with him. His eyes narrowed as he stared back at me passively.

"You're in your late twenties. You work in some sort of position for the police, but you don't work for them. You're a drug addict if your pale face and recent loss of weight are any indication. It's apparent, but no one else has realized it yet. You're Irish, but speak with a British accent which suggest you have lived here longer than two years, my guess is three. You are above average intelligence or at least you would have to be to sneak into Buckingham Palace. The dress you are wearing is the best you can afford since most of your income goes to paying your drug dealer. Have I missed anything?" The man asked me as my eyes widened in shock. I had never met anyone who could do that like I could. My anger turned to curiosity as I viewed the posh man before me.

"You can read me like I can you?" I asked him in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Read?" He asked me in confusion and I nodded at him before I shook my head in utter shock. I thought it was only me who could see things like that. I thought I was different. Grandfather always said it was a gift I shouldn't waste. I thought I was the only freak, but this man could do it too. Maybe it wasn't as different as I thought. Maybe it was actually normal.

"Read, yes. Looking at a person and knowing all about them," I explained to him in case he was like me and didn't understand it at first. I had never known exactly what ti was that I could do.

"Deductions you mean?" The man asked me and I frowned at that word.

"Deductions?" I asked him testing the word. "I like that, it sounds better that way," I told him and he looked at me oddly for a long moment before we fell back into our conversation prior to sharing our deductions.

"I am at a loss as to if I should hand you over to security or escort you out myself," He mused before seemingly making a decision. He walked forward and grabbed me by my upper arm, pulling me back through the door. I was not expecting him to escort me out of the palace himself and put me in the back of a black car where a woman was sitting inside, furiously typing on her mobile. He instructed the woman to take me back to wherever it was that I lived and to make sure that I stay there for the remainder of the night. He assured me that this was not the last time I would be hearing from him and that he would be watching me closely. I sat back in the car with the girl that introduced herself as Thalia and drove back to my flat. He kept his promise. That was not the last time that we met.

Two Weeks Later…

Two weeks later found me still a bit uneasy after the events of the government party. I was still waiting for the man to change his mind and for men in suits to come and cart me off where I would never be heard from again. My drug habit got worse in those two weeks and I was high a good part of the time. The government official case had wrapped up and I gave all my evidence to Lestrade without telling him exactly how I had gotten it. I was working a new case now, a serial child killer case and it had left a bad taste in my mouth. I was walking back to my flat from the corner store when a payphone beside me started ringing. I ignored it and just kept walking but a second payphone down the street started ringing just as I passed it. Never one to ignore a coincidence, I walked into the phone box and answered the phone.

"Hello?" I asked speaking down the phone.

"There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?" A man's voice asked me and I instantly knew who it was.

"Who's this? Who's speaking?" I asked frowning even thought I knew the answer already. It was the man who found me out at the party.

"Do you see the camera, Ms. MacKenna?" The man asked me and I quickly looked through the windows of the phone box and located the CCTV camera high up on the wall of a nearby building. I was panicking. How had he found out my name?

"Yeah, I see it," I told him, proud that my voice stayed steady. "Watch," He told me and I watched as the camera which was pointing directly at the phone box swivelled away. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" He asked me and I looked across to the second camera which was also pointed towards the phone box. I made a sound of agreement and the camera immediately swivelled away like the first had. "And finally, at the top of the building on your right," The man told me and I stared up into the third camera which was also watching me before it swivelled away. "How are you doing this?" I asked the man as I looked up at all of the cameras. "Get into the car, Ms. MacKenna," The man told me as a black car pulled up at the curb side near the phone. The male driver got out and opened the rear door. "I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you," The man told me and I shook my head at that.

"No, it isn't. I don't have to get in the car," I told him and I heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

"And yet I know your name and where you live. Get in the car Ms. MacKenna. Do make things easier on yourself," The man told me and I growled in irritation as I clenched my fists, my shopping on the floor and long forgotten.

"Fine, but I'm not doing this because you want me too," I snapped at him before I hung up the phone before he could. There wasn't much else I could do but get in the car and find out what the posh asshat wanted with me. I stalked out of the phone box and over to the car, sliding into the back seat where the girl Thalia was sitting on her phone once again like the first time we had met. "You know if you go at your phone like that, you're going to hurt your eyes," I commented as the car took off. "Any point asking where I'm going?" I asked her and still she remained silent, completely invested in her phone. "I could text you the question if you prefer," I said sarcastically which is when she finally decided to look up.

"Hello," She said smiling brightly at me.

"Oh look, you're alive. I was starting to wonder if this was an episode of Doctor Who and you were actually dead as you slaved away on the computer or in your case your mobile for the Editor in Chief," I told her as I took a look out of the window. We were driving further away from the centre of the city. Thalia laughed at that and I couldn't help the slight grin that graced my face. "So any point asking where I am going?" I tried again now that I had her attention.

"None at all," She told me as she went back to texting on her phone. "Alexandria," She added like an afterthought. I sighed and crossed my arms sitting back in my seat and waiting for this car ride to end. A short while later the car pulled up into an almost-empty warehouse. The man in another immaculate suit was standing in the centre of the area, leaning nonchalantly a cane as he watched the car stop. As soon as the car stopped I opened the door and got out myself. In front of the man was a straight-backed armless chair facing him. He gestured to it with the point of his umbrella as I walked towards him, the sound of my heels connecting with the concrete echoing through the empty warehouse.

"Have a seat, Alexandria," He told me and I smirked at him as I took the chair and turned it around before sitting on it improperly. If I wasn't wearing jeans I wouldn't be sitting like this but it did make me seem a little more imposing.

"You know, I've got a thing called a phone," I told him as I looked around the warehouse. "I mean, very clever and all that with the cameras and the black car, but you could just phone me on my phone like a normal person. Though I would have hated to have missed this," I told him as I gestured around to the dimly lit and grungy warehouse. "I love the aesthetics in here, the Feng Shui. I can see you really went all out for me."

"Charming, as always. But down to business. You don't seem very afraid," The man remarked casually and I snorted at him and rolled his eyes. Was I supposed to be afraid of him? He had a bloody cane for God's sakes. I didn't know whether to laugh at the fact that he didn't seem too imposing or feel sorry for him.

"You don't seem very frightening," I told him with a smirk and he chuckled at me.

"Ah, yes. The bravery of the Irish. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?" He asked me as he looked at me sternly. I laughed at that, the sound echoing through the warehouse.

"Says the man whose security I got past," I told him and he frowned at that. "You know, there are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater. But sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it is nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain, and the work of every day, the slow walk toward a better life. That is the sort of bravery I have now," I told the man, my Irish temper flaring.

"'Trust issues,' it says here," The man said, not at all perturbed by my little outburst as he took a small notebook out from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Ah so you have been watching me. Well done you. Give the man a medal," I said sarcastically and I watched as he ground his teeth together. I knew I was pissing him off which was half the fun of it.

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily," He pointed out and I laughed at that, wiping a fake tear from my eye.

"Ah, you crack me up. If that's all you've learnt about me after two weeks, you're not as good as I thought. Are we done here now? Not that I haven't loved this, but I have a serial killer to catch," I told the man and he raised his head in looked into my eyes doing that deduction thing to me again. It still slightly unnerved me that I couldn't exactly read him. I could still see surface things, another row with his brother, but beyond that I couldn't deduce anything else. I had taken to calling my readings deductions. The first time I had called them this around Lestrade I had gotten a strange look from him.

"You tell me," The man told me and I looked at him for a long moment before cocking my head to the side.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours. Only seems fair that we are on even ground," I told him and he smirked at me. "Well, forgive me if I would like to stay on uneven ground," The man told me and I gritted my teeth together, my hand clenching in anger. "It's time to choose a side, Ms. MacKenna," He told me before he walked away from me towards the back of the warehouse. I watched the departing man until he left me alone with my anger. I sat fixed in my seat for a few seconds before I got up. The car door opened behind me and Thalia got out and walked a few paces towards me her attention still riveted to the BlackBerry held in front of her in both hands.

"I'm to take you home," She told me as I half-turned towards her. I followed her into the car and got into the back, letting her drive me home. That was the second time I had met the mysterious man and it was certainly not the last time we would meet.

Over the course of the next few months I was kidnapped on a number of occasions. I had done some research of my own into the man, using some of my hacking skills which resulted in a message coming through across my laptop screen to be a good girl and stop trying to hack the government. The only thing I had found out about him was his name, but that was more than enough for me. Mycroft Holmes, even his name sounded posh and arrogant. The next time we met, he kidnapped me and brought me to a café where he scolded me for my hacking and told me that I would be under surveillance. Apparently my surveillance status was Grade Three Active, whatever that meant. After that, I worked more case and was kidnapped more often. Mycroft had me join him on some cases he was working for the government. He said it was his form of punishment for me since he couldn't just put me in prison for my illegal activities since, "a mind was not a thing to waste." Before I knew it six months had passed since I had first met him. In that time, he had taught me how to better make deductions and how to speak French. He had tried to help me kick my drug habit, but I fell of the wagon more than once. Each time he just sighed and helped me get back up on the horse. I wasn't sure exactly what our relationship was it. It was almost like teacher and student but then also like prison warden and convict. I found out that I was considered a security risk to the crown and he was trying to judge if I should be neutralized or not.

Apparently I convinced him that I wasn't a threat to the safety of the Commonwealth. Soon I was working another serial killer case. It had been going well until I put my reliance in Anderson and Donovan. All the time I was being tortured by the sick bastard I kept thinking about Mycroft. I knew that he would realize something was wrong when his tails on me couldn't find me. I just had to hold out hope that he would be able to find me in time. Those three days were spent in pain and brief moments of lucidity. When I was given the drug my body was finally screaming for, I was finally able to relax until I felt as if my veins were burning me from the inside out. I couldn't breathe and I started hallucinating. Through the tremors and convulsions, I fought to stay awake. I didn't know if I was dreaming or not when the lights finally reached me and all of the loud voices that sounded muffled. I vaguely remembered seeing Mycroft's face and hearing Lestrade before I was uncuffed and helped to my feet. Through the haze I saw Anderson's face and with what little strength left I punched him with as much force as I had, hearing a satisfying crack as I broke his nose. It was after that that I finally passed out. All I remembered was someone catching me which I later figured out was Mycroft Holmes.

I woke up in the hospital three days later where I was informed I was lucky to be alive. I had almost overdosed. The serial killer had been caught and Mycroft hadn't left my side through all of it. It was on that day that I corrected him and told him to call me Lexi instead of Alexandria. It was also on that day that I started calling him Croft. I stopped working case after that. My drug habit was found out and Mycroft officially checked me into rehab. I fought him at first and I said some things I didn't mean as the bitterness and pain of the past filled me. He stuck with me through all of it thought and when I was finally free of the drugs, I realized that he was one of the good guys. He bought me a beautiful viola as a reminder that some habits didn't have to be ugly. Every time I felt like I would go back to the drugs, I would play and after a while I could play just for the fun of it again instead of just to keep myself from falling back into old habits. Mycroft was the third person I had met that actually seemed to care about what happened to me. Four years past, I picked up writing and worked odd jobs for Mycroft. I moved out of my flat that was a reminder of my life before with the drugs. Mycroft taught me Italian, I learnt more languages. He taught me everything he knew about making deductions and after a while, I started seeing him as a brother and as a friend. I spoke with his mother and found out more about his brother thought I had never met him and Mycroft refused to introduce us or even tell me his name. I started trusting Mycroft Holmes more than anyone else. We were alike as we were then, one day after all of that I started looking for a new flat. Destiny decided to take me by the hand and I finally met Sherlock Holmes and the army doctor John Watson and then, I became Lexi MacKenna, consulting detective.


	14. All's Quiet On The Sherlock Front

**"Travelin' On"**

**You could never be a face in the crowd**  
><strong>So you're travelin' on, travelin' on out<strong>  
><strong>Well you know I'd never say it out loud<strong>  
><strong>But I'll be travelin' on, travelin' with you<strong>

**Hey I'm too weak it's too much to fight off**  
><strong>The past so strong<strong>  
><strong>But now I don't think too much of the time<strong>  
><strong>I'll just try to keep up<strong>

**Ooh ooh...**  
><strong>I can't believe what's happening now<strong>  
><strong>Ooh ooh...<strong>  
><strong>I can't believe what's happening now<strong>

**If you notice that I'm falling behind**  
><strong>I'm taking my time taking it all in<strong>  
><strong>So call me when you get where you're going<strong>  
><strong>I'll keep travelin' on, travelin' to you<strong>

**Hey don't be too hard on yourself**  
><strong>I'll be okay<strong>  
><strong>Cause we won't leave this place any worse<strong>  
><strong>Than when we came<strong>

**Ooh ooh...**  
><strong>I can't believe what's happening now<strong>  
><strong>Ooh ooh...<strong>  
><strong>I can't believe what's happening now<strong>  
><strong>Ooh ooh...<strong>  
><strong>I love the way it's happening now<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve – All's Quiet On The Sherlock Front<strong>

**"You wish to put me in the dark. I tell you that I will never be put in the dark. You wish to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me." **  
><strong>―Arthur Conan Doyle,<em>The Final Problem and Other Stories <em>**

By the time I had finished playing my composition, Sherlock decided to come out of his room. He was dressed in a grey shirt, blue pyjama bottoms, and a dark blue robe. He sunk into his chair and adopted his prayer pose, his bare feet resting against the floor. I had a feeling that he would not be joining the land of the living anytime soon. I put my viola away in its case before I sat down by Sherlock's feet, adopting my meditative pose. There was something off about this case and I wasn't sure what. The husband had something to do with Ms. Dampier's murder, of that I was sure, but I didn't know how he was involved. However, he was not the one who had actually committed the murder. That had been done by someone much larger and stronger than her husband. Then there was the fact that she didn't even share his last name. There could be multiple reasons for why she didn't but in a marriage portrayed to be as happy as theirs was, it sent up a little red flag right in my direction. Something was off about that, it could be nothing or it could be something. I never disregarded a piece of evidence until it had an explanation. Currently, it didn't.

Mr. Polk was definitely a sub, not a dom. He was not connected in the murder in anyway, but that didn't mean that he wasn't slightly creepy. I was sure that the stalker charge had not simply been a misunderstanding, but that didn't mean he committed murder. Interviewing everyone on the list would end up being time consuming and most likely would not result in anything productive. I needed to look at this case at a completely different angle. The killer took a trophy. Now, trophy meant he might have killed before. That or this could be the killer's first murder which I highly doubted. Taking trophies was indicative that the killer had killed more than once so it was likely that we could find other victims of Ms. Dampier's murderer that would match the same MO. I got up from my spot and breezed out of the room, noting that John had settled down in his chair and was reading the paper. I patted his arm as I passed him and he looked up at me, smiling a bit before I left him and entered my bedroom.

I started pulling my case boxes onto my bed to look through them. I remembered that I had two boxes filled with some old cold case files that Gregson had sent me a while back to look through. I hadn't come up with anything, but it had given me something to do in my time away from consulting, not that I would ever admit that I had looked through them. I found the two boxes I was looking for and lugged the rest of them back into an organized stack before I started dragging the boxes I needed out into the living room, sliding them over the floorboards as they were too heavy for me to carry. John looked up from his paper as I dragged the boxes in front of the fire place and opened them. I started digging through the boxes, pulling out all of the files to review. It was possible that an unsolved case might be connected to our killer and that could give us a led as to other suspects in the cases. If the killer had other victims, I might be able to pinpoint any connections between all of the victims and any suspects in the previous cases. Somewhere in all of this there had to be a connection. I just had to find the common connection and then I would have our killer. There was a good chance I had the file I needed since Gregson had given me all of the cold case files he had from the last five years. These two boxes covered four years and I had another box our two somewhere with the rest of them. If I had to I could get them from Mycroft. I unloaded all of my case files and looked up at Sherlock who was watching me with curiosity. I picked up a stack of my case files and gave them to Sherlock.

"Look through these for any that seem to fit the same MO as our killer," I told him as I ungraciously dumped the case files in his lap. "And you can look through these," I told John as I dumped an equally large stack in his lap. I took an entire stack for myself, ready to get to work.

"How is this going to help?" John asked me as he opened his first file and stared down at it with a frown. It would be interesting to see just how much he would like me after I finished with him. I was going to put him to work if he was just sitting there doing nothing. The same went for Sherlock.

"Well, it's possible that our killer has killed before. Serial killers are the ones that normally take trophies. Helps them to differentiate between victims. It occurred to me that if Amy Dampire was not our killer's first victim, there might be other cases in common. Gregson sent me these case files to take a look at for him. We're looking for any other victims that match the MO our killer. If we can find other victims, we may be able to narrow our search down to find a suspect," I explained to John as I opened my first case file. Sherlock was already breezing through his first file. This was going to take a while to go through.

"I thought you said you weren't taking cases before. Why would he send you cold case files?" John asked me as he moved the stack of files I had given him onto his side table. I sighed and got up, crossing over to my board before turning back to him.

"He was trying to get me interested again. After my…accident, I didn't want to go back to work," I told John. I knew this discussion had to take place. It was sort of easier to talk about now that I had told Sherlock. Despite the fact that he already knew what I was going to tell John, he still gave me his full attention.

"Our course, though you were wasting your talents as a writer," Sherlock remarked with a quirk of his lips as he flicked his eyes up away from his file and looked at me.

"Hmm Mycroft told me the same thing in not so many words," I told him with an amused smile before looking back at John. "You've got questions John, about me in particular. Things people have said, probably Donovan, right? I've explained most of it to Sherlock already so, ask me," I offered him. He sat back in his chair looking at me for a long moment.

"Your accident…what exactly happened, made you want to leave?" John asked me first, he was hesitant as if he wasn't sure exactly how to word it. I crossed back over to Sherlock and took a seat at his feet facing John. I steepled my hands under my chin, my fingers crossed and making a shushing expression.

"Like I told Sherlock, that question has to start with an explanation about my addiction," I remarked thoughtfully. He stared back at me for a long moment as if he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.

"And your addiction then?" He prompted me. I smiled back at him before popping up off of the floor.

"Bit of a long story and I gave Sherlock the shortened version. Tea?" I asked the both of them as I made for the kitchen. Sherlock hummed out an agreement while John looked at me with a sort of surprised expression.

"Yeah sure," He told me after a second before I flashed him a smile and swept into the kitchen. I pulled out three mugs and set the kettle on the stove as I thought about how exactly I was going to tell him things. I hadn't told Sherlock the entire story, but I just felt that it was time to tell someone. I was moving on, getting back into the work. I wasn't ready to tell them the entire story yet, but I could tell them enough for now. As soon as the kettle was done I started making the tea. John took his with just milk, no sugar and Sherlock two sugars and no milk. I was a combination of both. I brought the mugs into the living room and passed the boys their tea before taking my seat again, this time resting up against Sherlock's knees. I blew on my tea and took a deep breath before fixing my eyes on John. "Alright, so my addiction," I began before taking a sip of my tea.

"You don't have to tell me you know…if you don't want to," John said quickly. I studied him and saw that while he did want to know what everyone was talking about, he really didn't want to pry. I shook my head and flashed him a brilliant smile.

"I want to tell you John," I told him before taking a deep breath and starting. "So well, my family life wasn't the best. I'm an only child. My father didn't want children, but my mother did. To make a long story short, my mother died giving birth to me," I explained emotionlessly. I never knew my mother, I couldn't truly miss someone I had never met. Of course I did regret never getting to know her, but grief wasn't really something I could feel over it.

"Oh God, Lexi, I'm sorry," John told me and I snapped my eyes up to him. I registered that Sherlock had put his file down and was sitting in his prayer pose as he watched me.

"No, no. I don't remember her of course. Anyway, my father…well he never could get over that his only child was a daughter. I had a lonely childhood to put it lightly. I spent a lot of time alone, especially after I started school," I said with a bitter laugh as I looked back at Sherlock. "No one quiet liked to be friends with me," I told him seeing him nod slightly in understanding. I knew that he had suffered the same as I did in school. I was always the clever child. As soon as I made that clear I was alienated from the rest of the children. "I used to go to this park and observe people. I started deducing them. It was my escape. When I turned twelve I went to Uni in Edinburgh. I got out when I was nineteen with a PHD in Organic Chemistry, Sociology, Criminology, and Medicine," I continued before John interrupted me with a yelp of surprise.

"You have four Doctorates?" He asked looking completely floored. I looked at him with a grin on my face and took a sip of my tea as he stared back at me in utter bewilderment. "You are a doctor, a proper doctor?" He continued shaking his head in amazement.

"Mmm," I hummed in agreement before turning to look at Sherlock. We looked at each other for a long moment before we both started laughing. His deep chuckle mixed with my high bell like laugh. John made a sound of disbelief before he joined us in our laughter. "I was bored," I said as I quieted.

"You were bored?" John laughed incredulously as I put my tea cup on the floor and got up, moving around Sherlock's chair to the window. I looked back at John and shrugged before looking back out the window.

"Oh you know. Anyway, I worked some odd jobs when I got out of Uni. I was a chemist, a pathologist…yeah, like I said odd jobs," I said after seeing the look John was giving me. "I left Ireland and moved to London when I was twenty four. Met Lestrade about a month later and I started working cases as a consultant for the police. It didn't take me long to realize that they were all incompetent," I continued before Sherlock interrupted me.

"How did you come to know Detective Inspector Gregson?" He asked me and I crossed over to his chair with a laugh and sat on the arm of his chair. He looked up at me, not looking annoyed but rather thoughtful. He didn't flinch away from me, but rather sat the same way he was before. Mycroft really did oppose human contact, but the same couldn't actually be said for Sherlock. I had a feeling that he actually craved contact, but shied away from it. He pushed people away from him with the way he acted, but he actually craved attention. I wasn't going to push him, but I wasn't going to leave him completely alone either. No one should ever be alone.

"Gregson? We met on a case. Lestrade's team was working with Gregson's. I sought Gregson out after we wrapped up the case. He already saw how I worked, he let me in on his next case. After that I was always invited in. I worked with Lestrade primarily but when he didn't have a case for me, Gregson would steal me away with the promise of an interesting case. Like this one, missing person's case turns into a murder case. Back on the subject though, where was I?" I asked John as I looked up at him, leaning in slightly towards Sherlock so our shoulders were almost touching. I reached up and pulled my hair out of its bun, letting my hair cascade down around me, A few strands fell on Sherlock's shoulder and he stared at them for a long moment before picking up one of the strands and studying it closely. I smiled before pushing my hair behind my ears, effectively stealing my hair back from him.

"Your addiction," John offered and I snapped my fingers, pointing at him with a grin.

"Yes, perfect, thank you John. Anyway, yes well I got introduced to cocaine. Don't remember quiet how, but I started using. It helped me think, alcohol slows down the brain, but the cocaine sped me up. When I stared working for Lestrade, I thought it helped me solve cases. I hid it from him, easy enough to do, he's not that observant, but I know Gregson noticed that something was going on," I said before John was the one to interrupt me. I sighed heavily knowing that this was going to take far longer to explain if they kept interrupting me.

"And when did you meet Sherlock's brother in all this?" John asked me as he leaned his head against one of his arms. I rolled my eyes and got up, sitting back down at Sherlock's feet, leaning up against his legs casually as if I had done it a thousand times. It was close enough to him, without being too close. Baby steps.

"I was on a case actually when we met. I might have snuck into a very important government party. Government official having an affair, big scandal. You would be surprised what you can get people to believe when you need to blend in. Mycroft of course saw right through me. He kicked me out of course, surprisingly didn't call the police or even the secret service. He just told me that he would be watching me. Kept his promise too. Kidnapped me two days later, brought me to that warehouse. We had a lovely chat which basically me sassing him and him sassing me right back," I told John before leaning back to look up at Sherlock with a grin. "I think I impressed him or at the very least annoyed him," I told him before looking back at John. "He kept an eye on me after that. Went on like that for a few months and then he started kidnapping me on a regular basis. I got to know him, of course I wasn't happy about any of it. That was until my accident," I said taking a deep breath and letting it out. Now came the difficult part of trying to explain just what happened.

"You really don't have to if it's too much," John told me sincerely. It was sweet that he was thinking about me, how I might not want to tell him any of this. I had already told him a lot though. Sure, I left out a lot about my childhood, but I really didn't feel the need to hide a lot of what I had done as an adult.

"It's not," I assured him before leaning my head against Sherlock's knee and closing my eyes before continuing. "I was working a serial killer case for Lestrade. There had been four victims already when he called me in. I got close, closer than anyone. I figured it out in the end, who it was. Anderson and Donovan weren't fond of me already, but part of me stupidly believed that I could trust them when it was important at least. I told them where I was going, they were supposed to alert Lestrade so he could bring back up while I went to where I knew the killer was hiding out and distracted him until the police arrived. I got there and engaged the killer, but…," I said before trailing off.

"…but the help never came," John finished for me with a heavy sigh as he finally put the pieces together. "They never told him where you went did they?" He asked me as he ran a hand down his face.

"No, help never arrived and the killer knew that they weren't coming. I was over powered on my own and I was taken to another part of London. I was held prisoner for three days in a basement. After I didn't turn up the next day to the Yard, Lestrade started asking questions. That was when Anderson and Donovan finally decided to say something. They claimed that they thought I was mad, leading them on a wild goose chase. Of course, when they got to the warehouse I had directed them to, the killer had long since run off with me in his trunk. Lestrade knew I worked with Gregson and got him involved. Mycroft got involved too. His tails on me lost me for more than an hour. He started looking for me. When I didn't answer my phone, he knew something had happened. He went to Lestrade and Gregson. Lestrade didn't want his help, but Gregson was willing to corporate with him."

"And that's why you kept getting all those texts yesterday. They were from Mycroft and you didn't answer him so…," John interrupted and I nodded back with a laugh.

"Yes, he started panicking. Mycroft, as I am sure he told you in some ways, worries about me constantly. Sherlock too, at least that is what I gather. Anyway, I was well, I was tortured while I was held prisoner," I said, wincing when I heard John gasp in surprise. "Mycroft got a tip off from someone about having seen me and within an hour, Gregson, Sargent Bell and Lestrade along with Mycroft's men rescued me. As they got me outside Anderson and Donovan showed up. As injured as I was I still managed to break Anderson's nose. Course I suffered from fractured knuckles for that, but it was worth it. I recovered, but I never went back after that case. I couldn't, not after what had happened," I finished as I hugged my knees up to my chest and rested my head against them as I stared up at John.

"And why weren't Anderson and Donovan fired? Surely Lestrade would have done something, not let them just get away with that?" John asked me incredulously.

"Ha here's the kicker. Lestrade's boss got involved. Lestrade got into a lot of hot water when he found out that Lestrade had been letting a civilian help on cases, see all of the case files. In his eyes, Anderson and Donovan were right for not having listened to me. Lestrade wanted to fire them or at least suspend them, but he had no say in the matter anymore. I was basically told that it was my own fault for engaging with someone who I believed was a serial killer even if it was because of me that they ended up catching him. The only reason Lestrade was able to keep his job was because I left and I made Mycroft pull some strings to make sure he couldn't be fired. I wasn't about to ruin Lestrade's career because of me. I assume that he let Sherlock in on cases when he left because of Mycroft, that might have been part of the deal they made," I told John and Sherlock furrowed his brow at the fact that his brother might have been responsible for why he was allowed in on case. "Not that I think Mycroft would care that much. He generally doesn't do things for other people unless it would do something for him. In my case I was more willing to listen to him in the future because he had done a favour for me," I added and Sherlock's expression lightened. I was sure that Mycroft had one something to get Sherlock into the Yard after all of that, but I couldn't be sure that he was the one to twist Lestrade's arm. It could have been all Lestrade. I knew he was pissed since my track record spoke for itself and their conviction rates had skyrocketed as soon as I started helping them.

"But you missed it, the blood pumping in your veins. Lexi MacKenna against the world. When Lestrade asked for your help, your initial reaction was to tell him no, but then you changed your mind. At first it was because you wanted to show off. You were intrigued by me naturally, the only person you had ever met that could do what you did was Mycroft. No one would choose Mycroft. You then met me. Mike didn't want to introduce us, I could tell he was nervous, though also smug. You stayed quite when we first met, let John do all the talking because you were observing. We both made our deductions. You decided to come see the flat. Again, you initially hesitated, but then you decided to come anyway because you were curious. After your initial hesitation at Lestrade's request you agreed to come. You didn't want to have me show you up which shows you are proud of what you do and also competitive. In the car, you made it clear you weren't going to let me do all the talking. You shared your deductions about John, something you don't normally do. You're always shunned when you share your deductions so you keep them to yourself. At the crime scene, you're whole demeanour changed. Normally you engage in theatrics or over the top displays, but you became professional. You weren't afraid to share your deductions, in fact you wanted to because you wanted to prove that you were as smart as I was. I have to give you some credit, you figured out it was a cabbie before I did. You texted my brother, two words, I didn't see what, but you knew that we weren't going to get out of their on our own. You stalled by engaging the cab driver even though I clearly made it known that I should do all the talking. You decided to move in right after that, just after you decided to go back to solving cases. You were intrigued, remembered what it was like, couldn't resist to get back into the work," Sherlock said, sharing some of the deductions he had made about me with the two of us. I laughed and grinned up at him from my position, sitting at his feet. He was right of course.

"Vatican Cameos, two words. After my accident Mycroft and I came up with a duress code that I was to send him if I was ever in danger. Your right, I wanted to show off at first, but then I actually started working with you which is why I am having you help me on this case. That is, of course, if you want to. Beats sitting around the flat doing nothing," I remarked as picked up my first case file and opened it. The only answer Sherlock gave me was by picking up the case file he put down and opening it, starting to read through it. "John, I'd like your help too. I wasn't lying when I said you were helping me prove a point. Beyond that I would love to have your medical opinion on cases," I told the army doctor truthfully, flicking my eyes over at John who was still staring between Sherlock and I in shock over how our previous conversation had just ended. I didn't feel the need to fill John in on the parts where I had almost died because of an overdose. That was something Sherlock could understand, he had almost overdosed at one point too, but that was of his own causing. Still, he could understand that part that John wouldn't be able to. John nodded for a second before shaking his head and taking a sip of his cooling tea.

"You're a doctor too. Why would you want my medical opinion?" He asked me incredulously before something I said started to register with him. "Hang on, you knew there was a possibly both you and Sherlock could die and you still went with the cabbie? You knew the gun was a fake, you didn't have to play his game, take the pills," He said harshly as he looked between the both of us, settling his gaze on Sherlock.

"Of course we knew the gun was fake, it was obvious, even Anderson could have realized it," Sherlock quipped before falling into silence again effectively ignoring John's question.

"I want your opinion because I don't have any practical knowledge, but you do John. You were a doctor, an army doctor. And yes, I knew. As Sherlock pointed out, I did in fact know that the gun was fake as well. As for why we played the game…," I said trailing off as I looked over at Sherlock. We locked eyes and in that moment we made a vow to each other to keep what we had learnt a secret, even from John. "That really isn't important. I don't have an answer for you that you would like," I told him and he nodded in understanding, not that he wouldn't like the answer but that he knew I wasn't going to give him one, before picking up one of his own files.

The three of us shared a look for a long moment before we got to work, looking for other victims. Hours passed and the sun set outside of the window as the afternoon turned to night. John tried to suggest getting something for dinner, but Sherlock and I waved him off. John instead made something for himself in the kitchen, loudly commenting on the fact that it wasn't healthy not to eat. I was working on a case. I wouldn't go as far as to say that digestion slowed me down, but when I was working I really didn't eat. I had already eaten twice in one day which was a record for me of late. John ran out after he ate to go pick up some things from home since he would be spending another night in the flat. He came back an hour later having changed clothes and showered before returning with a bag of clothes and toiletries. Maybe I could get Mycroft to give him a hand moving his stuff into Baker Street. Somehow, I didn't think that John would like that suggestion nor would Sherlock like it because that might mean that Mycroft would have to pay us another visit. Early evening turned to close to midnight as the three of us still sat looking through all of my case files. One box worth of files lead to no leads and sometime after hour four at having been at it we moved on to box number two. It was just after it turned one in the morning when I finally found what I had been looking for.

"Ha got one! Eileen Renfro," I cried in triumph as I stood up and stood by Sherlock's chair as he put the file down that he had been working through. I perched on the arm of his chair as John got up to look over my shoulder. "Savagely beaten and strangled by an intruder in her home in Greenwich two years ago. The killer took a jewellery box on his way out, but he left behind a size eleven foot print," I continued as I showed John and Sherlock a picture of the victims throat where you could see the bruising markings from the killers hands. "Get this, the most striking fact are the physical similarities between her and Amy. Both were curvaceous with long red hair."

"You think the killer has a type?" John asked me over my shoulder as Sherlock flicked through the case file quickly. Eileen's case had gone cold, except there was one difference in her case and Amy's.

"Yes, but there was one difference in the two attacks, Eileen Renfro survived her attack," I told John with a grin. This was perfect, Eileen could provide us with a link we needed to find our killer. Of course I had solved a murder on a lot less before, but this was like being given a map with an x marks the spot on it. A witness, a victim, always knew the most about the case.

"So, so this girl might know something? About the killer?" John asked me and I grinned as I got up and patted him on the arm.

"Very good John yes," I told him as I looked over at Sherlock. "I suggest we go speak with Ms. Renfro tomorrow morning, see what she might know," I told Sherlock as he handed me back over the case file.

"Agreed," He answered me simply before getting up from his chair and leaving his case files behind. He crossed over to the window and started playing the violin. After the first few notes I realized he was playing The Bee or L'Abeille by Schumann. I smiled ruefully at his choice, it was one of my favourite pieces.

"Well then, I'm off to bed," John said as he stood up straight and crossed over to his chair, handing me back my case files. I dumped them unceremoniously back into their respective box before doing the same with Sherlock's pile and my own. "Are you going to get some sleep?" John asked me as I sat down on the floor and adopted my mediating pose.

"Hmm no, no I think I'll stay up a bit longer," I remarked nonchalantly as I took a few deep breaths to calm my mind. I needed sleep, but I knew that was a lost cause. With the way my mind was racing right now, sleep would never come to me.

"Alright," John said slowly and I peeked up at him to see a small disbelieving smile on his face. "Night then I guess," He told me and I hummed in agreement before closing my eyes. I heard his footsteps as he made his way up to his room. He had yet to move his stuff in, but he was still staying over. I heard him a few minutes later in the bathroom, but I blocked him out as I thought over the case. In my mind I picture a room filled with filing cabinets. There were maps all over the walls, a globe, and a large table covered in papers and odds in ends. My "filing" system was a good way to remember everything I read, saw, or deduced. There were other rooms filed with other information, but the main room was the filing room. It was called the method of loci and dated back to the Romans and the Greeks. Mycroft had taught it to me and helped form my memory palace as it was called. In theory, one only had to find the right file, book, or anyway they stored the information in order to remember something stored away in their brain.

We were right on track with this case. With any luck, Eileen Renfro might be able to give us the information we needed to find the killer. By this time tomorrow, the case will be solved and I would be enjoying the post case feelings of satisfaction. I came out of my thoughts when I noticed that Sherlock had stopped playing. I opened my eyes slowly to be met with Sherlock's face inches from my own. I shrieked in surprise, smacking him in the arm for scaring me. He was sitting on his chair, his hands in the prayer pose as he studied me. I glared at him as I got to my feet. He stood up beside me still watching me closely.

"Seriously there is such a thing as personal space Sherlock," I snapped as I shook my head in exasperation and went to get my viola. Maybe if I played for a bit it would relax me enough so I could get to sleep.

"You seem to have no problem invading other's personal space," Sherlock remarked as he went and plopped himself down on the couch, putting an arm over his face as he laid there. I rolled my eyes in his direction. He had a point there, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right.

"Whatever Lock," I told him as I stood in front of the window and raised my viola to my shoulder and started playing Brahms' lullaby. It was my favourite piece to play when I needed to relax and it was normally what I played when I really couldn't sleep.

Sherlock huffed from his spot on the couch, but made no other comment. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music and for a while, the only sound that could be heard in our flat were the notes of the song. When I finished playing, I smiled when I heard he soft snores coming from the direction of the couch. I turned around to find Sherlock sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging limply over the edge, the other still over his eyes, as he snored. I leaned my viola up against Sherlock's chair and crossed over to John's chair, pulling the blanket off of the back of it and draping it over Sherlock's lanky frame. He muttered something in his sleep as he grabbed the blanket and pulled it around him tighter as he rolled over onto his side and curled up in the fatal position. I smiled down at the overgrown child before yawning myself.

"Good night Sherlock Holmes," I whispered from the opening of the hallway before I slipped into the hall. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened for a second before the sound of John's snores reached my ears. I laughed quietly to myself before I retired to my own room for some much needed sleep. I walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer. I smiled as I pulled out my sweatpants and a tank top. Anthea was a saint for having moved in all my stuff and unpacked it all in a matter of hours. It was like I had always lived at Baker Street now. I pulled on my pyjamas and threw my clothes into my hamper before sliding under my sheets. I pulled my familiar quilt up to my chin. I looked up at my nightstand and laughed when I noticed that I had a brand new alarm clock sitting facing the bed. I snuggled down into my pillow and let sleep over take me. For many hours, not a sound could be heard from the three residents of 221B except for the soft sound of snoring. When the sun finally rose, the three residents woke one by one.

I woke up to the sound of knocking on my bedroom door before the door opened. "Lexi, Sherlock says you better be ready to go in ten minutes or he's leaving you behind," John said before he yelped in surprise when a pillow hit him square in the face with expert precision. I peeled opened one eye and stared at John with as much displeasure that I could manage after just waking up from some of the best sleep I had had in a while.

"Ah you're awake," Sherlock said as he brushed past the disgruntled and still shocked John. He crossed over to my dresser and started rifling through the drawers, throwing a sweater, a pair of jeans, and my underclothes at me. I slowly raised myself to sitting, John shot me a very worried look, as I turned and fixed Sherlock with my murderous glare. He still had his back to me and seemed to have not noticed my expression just yet. He turned around, flicking a pair of socks in my direction before he took in my expression and my posture. "Problem? I've already used your phone to text Gregson that we would be heading over to speak with Eileen Renfro. You might want to get dressed and do something with your hair, we'll be leaving in ten minutes with or without you," He said as glared at him before I picked up my alarm clock and threw it in the direction of his head. He ducked just in time and it connected with the wall before breaking, the pieces falling to the floor. Another alarm clock had fallen victim to my violent morning mood swings.

"OUT!" I shouted at John and Sherlock as I rose from my bed and stood on it with my other pillow in my hand. John bolted out of my room as if the enemy was at his heels, his sense of self-preservation obviously better than Sherlock's. I jumped off my bed and started smacking Sherlock with my pillow. He raised his hands, blocking my attempts to hit him as he backed away from me and out of my door. As soon as he got out of my room, I grabbed the door and slammed it shut. I let out a snarl as I collected my other pillow and threw them onto my bed. I heard Sherlock muttering something about women and mood swings as I ran a hand through my hair before grumbling and going over to my bed. I pulled off my pyjamas and pulled on the clothes Sherlock and thrown at me before I grabbed my case bag and left my room, slamming the door behind me as I crossed over to the bathroom and proceeded to close the door loudly behind me.

I could hear John talking with Sherlock in the living room, telling him that he had not handled that properly at all. You think Watson! I started brushing my teeth, Anthea already having set my toothbrush and toothpaste out on the counter. As soon as I was done I started to pull my hair brush roughly through my hair. Once my hair did not look like a rat's nest I twisted my hair up into a bun before nodding at my reflection and leaving the bathroom. I walked into the living room and John immediately stopped talking before looking at me cautiously, as if he was worried about me throwing something else at him. Sherlock looked rather amused however and I narrowed my eyes at him before I walked right up to him and poked him square in the chest.

"Rule one, never wake me up if you value your life. Rule two, if you do wake me up, learn how to duck," I told him before steeping back and giggling at John's expression. "Sorry I threw a pillow at you John. I should have mentioned, I'm a violent morning person," I apologized to him before turning back to Sherlock. "As for you, if you ever come in my room and start throwing clothes at me again, you are going to be thankful that I only threw an alarm clock at you," I warned him. The cheeky bastard only shrugged at me before he crossed over to the door and started pulling on his greatcoat. I glared at him for a second before grumbling as I stomped over to the door and started pulling my boots on. When I looked up, Sherlock was holding my coat out for me. I stuck my tongue out at him before taking my coat from him and pulling it on. He draped my scarf around my neck before he put his own on. "Come along Watson," I said as I brushed past him and started down the stairs.

"Well that went better than I expected," I heard John tell Sherlock before they started down the stairs after me. I rolled my eyes as I reached the bottom of the stairs and headed out the front door. Sherlock and John followed me out and stood by the curbing as Sherlock attempted to hail a cab. I ignored them as I walked past them and into Speedy's the café just next door.

"What can I get for you this morning love?" The man behind the counter asked me as I walked in, still fixing my coat and scarf.

"A black coffee with two sugars, one coffee with just milk, and a coffee with milk and two sugars," I told the man who I assumed must be the owner. I pulled my wallet from my case bag as he turned at got the coffee orders ready. I looked at the pastries in the case by the counter. "Can I also get one of those croissants, one of the Danishes, and a piece of that cinnamon coffee cake?" I added as he handed me over a to-go tray with the coffees.

"Sure love, that will be nine quid," He told me as he got out a paper bag and a small box and started getting the pastries for me. I handed him over the money in exchange for the small box and bag of pastries. "Have a nice day love."

"You too," I told him as I left the shop. John was standing by the curbing, holding open the door of the waiting cab. I smiled at him as I passed him and slid into the cab beside the sufficiently annoyed Sherlock. John slid into the seat beside me and closed the door before the cabbie took off, looking back in his mirror at the brooding consulting detective. "Alright, coffee for you, just milk," I told John as I handed him his coffee. "Black with two sugars for you," I told Sherlock as I shoved the cup into his hand. "And one Danish for you and a croissant for you," I told the boys as I handed John the Danish and Sherlock the croissant, wrapped in napkins.

"Ta," John thanked me as he took a sip of his coffee. I nodded at him as I took a sip of my own brew and opened the box of my coffee cake. I riffled through the bag, taking out the fork I had been given and taking a bite of my breakfast. I knew that if it was up to Sherlock we would have just left without eating. I flicked my eyes over to him and found that he was actually nibbling on the croissant I had gotten him. I knew that even Sherlock Holmes would not be able to resist the flaky, buttery treat.

"You're both forgiven by the way," I remarked before taking another sip of my coffee. "You don't have to look so nervous around me John," I added and I watched as John visibly relaxed. "For future reference, wake me up with a ten foot pole," I joked as I grinned at John who laughed, looking relieved. I pulled my phone out of my inner pocket where Sherlock had thankfully put it back. I had one text from Gregson telling me to keep him updated with what I found out and to make sure I kept things professional. And one very recent text from Mycroft telling me to try to refrain from throwing objects at his brother's head as much as he delighted in watching it. I snorted and deleted his text before sending Gregson a quick reply that I had everything under control.

We arrived at Eileen Renfro's flat and Sherlock bolted out of the cab, leaving John and I behind to pay the cabbie. John insisted on paying and I relented after a second. "Go stop him before he does something stupid," John told me as he nodded in Sherlock's direction. The man in question was holding down the buzzer by the door for Ms. Renfro's apartment building.

"On it," I told him as I sighed and walked over, slapping Sherlock's hand to get him to stop holding down the button. He rolled his eyes at me and I only snorted at him, raising my eye brows before turning back to the com system.

"Yes, hello?" A woman asked, obviously Ms. Renfro.

"Hi, Ms. Renfro? We're detectives with Scotland Yard, I was wondering if you might be willing to talk with us. We have a few questions with us relating to your case a few years ago," I told the woman, knowing that she would be more willing to agree to let us up if I did the talking rather than if Sherlock did. She had been victimized by a man, she probably had trust issues.

"Um…," She said hesitantly. I knew she was probably worried about letting us up. "Yeah, yeah fine sure. I'll buzz you in," She agreed after a long pause.

"Thank you," I told her as the door buzzed open. Sherlock pulled it open quickly and darted inside. I was surprised when he actually waited and held the door open for me and for John who had finally joined us again. We took the stairs, climbing the three stories up to Ms. Renfro's flat. I pulled my stolen badge from Scotland Yard out of my inner pocket. If I told her we were consultants for Scotland Yard she probably wouldn't believe us and might not tell us anything. If she thought we were the police however, we had a better chance of getting what we needed from her. It might not be right, but it would work. I knocked on her door and a few minutes later the nervous looking Eileen Renfro answered her door. "Good Morning, Ms. Renfro. I'm Sargent Donovan and these are my partners Holmes and Watson. Might we come in and ask you a few questions?" I asked her sweetly as I flashed her my stolen badge. I aimed an elbow into John's ribcage as he stared at me in confusion. He cleared his throat and smiled at the woman who looked between us questioningly.

"Sure…I guess so," Ms. Renfro told us, steeping aside and opening her door further. She was eyeing Sherlock who up until this point had been standing behind me, looking rather imposing with a frown on his face and his hands clasped behind his back.

"Delightful, thank you," He said with a fake smile as he gestured for me to take the lead. His entire demeanour had changed in a split second and now he was smiling, looking to all like the polite young man. I laughed to myself seeing him playing along with my grand act. I smiled at Ms. Renfro as I walked past her, followed by John and Sherlock. She shut the door behind us and escorted us into the living room.

"Would you like some tea? I could make some if you'd like?" Ms. Renfro asked us as she hovered by the door to her kitchen.

"Oh, no thank you. We won't be staying for long. We just have a few questions for you," I told her as I walked over to her couch and took a seat. John sat beside me, straight backed and very professional. Sherlock remained standing by my side and I looked up at him questioningly. He had been hovering around me since we had gotten here.

"Alright," Ms. Renfro said as she walked over and sat in the chair across from the couch. "What do you want to know?" She asked me as I opened my case bag and pulled out a picture of Amy Dampire.

"This is a picture of Amy Dampire, she was killed yesterday in her home by an intruder. She was strangled and the killer left behind a size eleven foot print," I explained as I handed her over the picture. "We have reason to think that your attacker might be the same man that murdered Ms. Dampire," I added as her eyes skimmed over the picture.

"I'm sorry. I can see why you think it might be the same guy. I just don't think I can help you," Ms. Renfro told me as she looked up from the picture.

"We know from the police report that the man who assaulted you wore a mask. That doesn't mean that you can't help us identify him," I told her as she handed me back the picture and I put it away in my bag. "Did he say anything to you?" I asked her as I looked back up at her.

"No. I came in through my front door and he was just…there," She told me and I nodded thoughtfully.

"Did he have a particular scent?" Sherlock interrupted. John snapped his head around to him and looked at him like 'What does that have to do with anything.' I however made a sound of agreement. He had a point. Sherlock and I shared a look and we silently conversed in a way only we could by reading deductions off of each other. I could clearly tell that he was thinking that she knew something about her attacker but was unwilling to tell us anything. You would think that if you told someone that another woman had been attacked like they had and had been murdered that that person might want to help in any way they could to bring justice. Ms. Renfro's first reaction was to tell us she knew nothing however. I raised an eyebrow at Sherlock which meant, 'Good cop, bad cop?' He nodded his head minutely in reply and I looked back at Ms. Renfro who was still looking surprised by Sherlock's question.

"Um…I don't think so," She told us as she furrowed her brow in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?" She asked me shaking her head. Definitely would have to do this the hard way. Good thing we had John with us. I had a plan and I would need him to do exactly like I thought he would in order for it to be successful.

"Was he tall? Short? Somewhere in between?" I interrogated her, smiling briefly to myself as I thought about how that referenced the three of us. I was right in between Sherlock's height and John's. Ms. Renfro started to look flustered as I asked her more questions. She certainly knew something but she was hiding it.

"I don't know! I mean he was on top of me so quickly, his hands were around my throat," She told us getting defensive. John shot me a look, a silent question that asked 'what the hell are you doing?' Perfect, he was already doing exactly as I planned. Sherlock and I would interrogate Ms. Renfro and when John thought we had crossed a line, he would come to her defence and in the process get the information we needed. It was simple and effective.

"And what about the mask?" Sherlock asked her as he clasped his hands behind his back again, scanning her face for any dead giveaways like I was.

"What about the mask?" Ms. Renfro asked us in confusion.

"Was it ski, Mexican wrestling, paper plate?" I asked her, clarifying what Sherlock meant.

She stared back at me for a long moment before finally answering. "Ski."

"Good. Excellent. So you got a good look at his eyes. Correct me if I'm wrong but a strangler can literally not be more than arm's length from his stranglee. That's what? Two…," Sherlock said before John cut him off with a warning.

"Sherlock," He said as he looked at me, nodding in Sherlock's direction to tell me to cut him off before he could continue. We both ignored him however as I picked up for him.

"Sherlock is right. He couldn't have been more than two and a half feet from you," I said as I put my arms out in front of me and mimicked holding someone by the throat at arm's length. "I'm twice that difference from you now. I can see that your eyes are a lovely brown," I continued as Ms. Renfro played with the necklace around her throat. She had her arms hugged around her, a defensive gesture and a nervous one.

"I think I'd like you to leave now," She told us firmly as she made to get up and show us to the door.

"Why? 'Cos we know that you're lying?" Sherlock asked her at which point John cut in again.

"Alright, that's enough Sherlock," John warned him, coming to the woman's defence perfectly. Now for me to play my part in the finally manifesto.

"No she is lying. Why? Why lie?" I asked Ms. Renfro before Sherlock picked up for me again like we had done before when interrogating John.

"You can tell by the crucifix. You fiddle with it every time we ask you a question. It's a pacifying behaviour. It's just elementary haptic communication. Just read a book, would you?" Sherlock asked John rather rudely before continuing. "She did see her attacker's face!"

"Sherlock!" John shouted over him but Sherlock just kept on going like I knew he would.

"I think she might even know who she is. Lexi's already figured it out. She could tell you were lying after you started talking. It's so blatantly obvious, it would take an idiot to miss it."

"Get out!" Ms. Renfro ordered Sherlock and me darkly.

"You do realize that because you protected him two years ago, you have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands? Perhaps you'd like to go for two or three or four," I added, finishing off what we had started. I also said exactly what I knew would get her to talk to John after we had been forced out. Guilt was a perfect motivator for the conscious.

"That's enough!" John shouted as he got to his feet, looking at Sherlock and me furiously. "You're done here. Go wait outside," He ordered us as he pointed towards the door. I stared back at him challengingly for a second before getting up and following Sherlock to the door. He opened it in front of me and waited for me to pass him. As I did so, I grinned at him as he smiled down at me. Our plan had worked perfectly.

"Arseholes," I heard Ms. Renfro comment as Sherlock followed me out into the hall to wait for John.

"I'm… I'm really sorry about them," John apologized as Sherlock made a point of slamming the door shut to mark our exit.

"Well that worked exactly as planned," I remarked as Sherlock and I headed down the stairs.

"Perfectly. Good work. I must say, I didn't think you would think to see if there were any related cases," Sherlock commented as we reached the first floor. I froze in shock over Sherlock's compliment as he walked on ahead of me. I shook myself before following after him.

"Thanks, I do try to be more competent that the police," I told him nonchalantly as if his compliment hadn't registered on such a high level. Inside I was preening my proverbial feathers. I was still at the point where I was just getting back into working again and was slightly doubting that I still had it in me to solve cases like I used to. I didn't need Sherlock's praise, but it was nice to be recognized for my skill. No one ever told me that what I did was good work or brilliant.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed in agreement as we walked outside and leaned against the building waiting for John to come down. "Nice touch with the badge."

I laughed at that as Sherlock smirked back at me. I nodded my head in his direction as I curtsied. "Thank you, I think I should win a BAFTA for that performance. I thought that if she thought we worked for Scotland Yard, she would be more apt to tell us what we wanted to know. When that didn't seem the case, it became apparent that we would have to rely on John's good heart to help us. It only helped that if she made a complaint to Scotland Yard she would be filing a complaint against Donovan. I still owe the woman for a few things," I told Sherlock as I leaned next to him, our shoulders touching. My phone dinged in my pocket and I pulled it out. Mycroft had texted me a low resolution picture of Sherlock and I smiling at each other in front of the building. I looked up at noticed the camera that was pointed in our direction. Sherlock followed my line of sight to the camera and huffed when he saw that it was trained on us. He crossed his arms and looked away from me.

"Why wouldn't John hurry up?" Sherlock snapped out impatiently as I texted Mycroft back.

"_**Great, thanks. Now you've put him in a bad mood,"**_ I typed out before deleting his texts and putting my phone away again. "He should be out in a second," I said as on cue, John walked out of the doors of the apartment building.

"What the bloody hell was that in there?" John demanded of us angrily as soon as he saw us.

"That was us having a plan. She did tell you who her attacker was didn't she?" I asked John who looked at me exasperatedly before he realized what we had done to him.

"You did all that because you thought she would tell me? I don't even want to know, I don't," John said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What did she tell you?" Sherlock snapped out, still in his foul mood over his brother keeping an eye on him. This childish feud was going to get old pretty quickly. I got that they didn't get along, but this was slightly ridiculous.

"She said the name of the man that attacked her was a Peter Saldua. He was her brother's best friend growing up. His father was abusive so her parents took him in in his Sixth year of secondary school. (**A/N Equivalent to Senior year in the US)** Eileen heard from her brother that he works for a florist in Brixton," John told us, still not look happy.

"I knew it! I knew if we started a row in there and you came to her defence that she would very well tell you the truth. Excellent work Watson. See you are critical to our work," I complimented him. He shook his head at me as I pulled out my phone and dialled Gregson's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey Gregson, its Lexi. I'm calling because I believe we've found you the name of a strong suspect in the murder of Amy Dampier," I told Gregson as I put the phone on speaker so Sherlock and John could listen in. I didn't care about the odd looks we were getting by passers-by.

"Name wouldn't be Peter Saldua by any chance, would it?" Gregson asked me and I frowned at that as I looked at Sherlock. What were the odds of that?

"How did you know?" I asked Gregson as I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like the answer he was going to give me.

"'Cos I'm at his house and I'm looking at him right now," Gregson answered me and I opened my eyes, staring back at Sherlock.

"Please tell me that means you have him in police custody?" I asked him hopefully, but from the look on Sherlock's face I knew that that wasn't the case. Perfect, the only lead we had was dead.

"Technically yeah. He's all ours," Gregson told us and I sighed heavily. "Come down to the crime scene, I want you to take a look," He told us and I nodded at his confirmation of my thoughts.

"Alright, we'll be over soon," I told Gregson. I got off the phone with him after he gave me the address to the house Saldua rented. "Well this is interesting," I remarked as Sherlock hailed us a cab. That little light of excitement was back in his eyes, his bad mood forgotten at the prospect of another body.

"Is it always like this?" John asked me as a cab pulled up by the curbing and Sherlock opened the door and slid inside.

"All the time," I told John with a grin as I slid in after Sherlock. I took a sip of my cooling coffee and waited for John. He stood there, looking back at us before shaking his head and sliding in after me. I gave the address to the cabbie and he sped off towards Brixton where we had the body of Peter Saldua waiting for us. I turned to Sherlock and we looked at each other and grinned in that little way only consulting detectives could.

"What have I gotten myself into?" John asked himself and Sherlock and I both grinned, his deep baritone chuckle mixing with my high pitched bell laugh. Oh, if only John knew. This was only the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN) And that is it for this week. Another chapter coming at you next week. I am starting to edit some ahead because I am getting into finals week. I'll be going on holiday soon and I won't have wifi for a week, but I already have someone who is going to upload the chapter for you. Just finished the first case that features Sherlock's POV. Wow...just wow. It definitely went places I didn't originally think it was going to. **

**WE FINALLY DID IT! This little story finally reached 100 followers! Thank you all so much. I never expected to get this kind of response when I decided to post the first chapter. I'm so glad that you think Lexi is as fantastic as I do. Cheers and as Lexi would say, don't judge me with your judgy eyes for my enthusiasm.**

**Notes on reviews: Thanks for that, I tried it and it worked. Thankfully FanFic got its bugs fixed. Yes! Sherlock and Lexi are getting a bit flirty :) We'll certainly see a bit more of that in the next few chapters. I don't think Lock actually realizes he is doing it and Lexi is just doing what feels right when it comes to Lock. In reference to the first chapter with Sherlock's POV that I just wrote, something has certainly changed between them. Just keep reading sweetie! I have so much planned for the two of them. **


	15. Drunken Lullabies

**"Drunken Lullabies"**

**Must it take a life for hateful eyes**

**To glisten once again**

**Five hundred years like Gelignite**

**Have blown us all to hell**

**What savior rests while on his cross we die**

**Forgotten freedom burns**

**Has the Shepard led his lambs astray**

**to the bigot and the gun**

**Must it take a life for hateful eyes**

**To glisten once again**

**Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess**

**Singin' drunken lullabies**

**I watch and stare as Rosin`s eyes**

**Turn a darker shade of red**

**And the bullet with this sniper lie**

**In their bloody gutless cell**

**Must we starve on crumbs from long ago**

**Through these bars of men made steel**

**Is it a great or little thing we fought**

**Knelt the conscience blessed to kill**

**Must it take a life for hateful eyes**

**To glisten once again**

**Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess**

**Singin' drunken lullabies**

**Ah, but maybe it`s the way you were taught**

**Or maybe it`s the way we fought**

**But a smile never grins without tears to begin**

**For each kiss is a cry we all lost**

**Though there is nothing left to gain**

**But for the banshee that stole the grave**

**Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess**

**Singin' drunken lullabies**

**I sit in and dwell on faces past**

**Like memories seem to fade**

**No colour left but black and white**

**And soon will all turn grey**

**But may these shadows rise to walk again**

**With lessons truly learnt**

**When the blossom flowers in each our hearts**

**Shall beat a new found flame**

**Must it take a life for hateful eyes**

**To glisten once again**

**Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess**

**Singin' drunken lullabies**

**Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess**

**Singin' drunken lullabies**

**Singin' drunken lullabies **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen-Drunken Lullabies<strong>

"**I am not the law, but I represent justice so far as my feeble powers go." ― Arthur Conan Doyle**

"So what have you got for me this time Gregson?" I asked as Sherlock, John, and I got out of the cab in front of the flat where Peter Saldua lived or used to live. Gregson had been waiting for us outside for the last few minutes apparently. I ducked my head inside the window to the cab and paid the driver before skipping over to Sherlock's side. The detective was analysing the outside of the flat to see if there was any evidence that would suggest that any kind of forced entry was used.

"Mailman saw the body through the window. Called 999, said he thought someone on his route had kill himself," Gregson told us as he led us inside and down the tight hallway, past the stairs, and into the kitchen where the cornier was just taking Saldua's body out. "Turns out he was right," Gregson continued as I scanned around the room taking in the kitchen. Every surface of the kitchen was covered in dirty dishes and bits of half eaten food. If Mrs. Hudson was here she would have an absolute fit. There was blood splattered around the area where I assumed he had shot himself. "The gun was still in Saldua's hand when we got here. Watch the blood splatter," He told us as he led us past where he had shot himself. We were carful to step over the blood splatters. "We found the ring box from Amy Dampier's home, right here." He told us as he pointed out the ring box which was on the kitchen table. The washer was tipped over on its side, clothes spilled out onto the floor in front of it.

"Turns out Mantlo and his wife used the florist Saldua worked for. They ordered fresh flowers to the house once a week. Saldua was the guy that delivered them. Explains why she would have let him in the other night," Sargent Arsehole said as he stepped into the room behind Sherlock and John as I walked over to the pictures of Amy Dampier that were pinned to the wall. I was right, he certainly was obsessed with her. If he had still be alive I would have suggested that I engage him because I was a curvaceous redhead, exactly his type as it would seem.

"What happened over there?" John asked as he nodded his head towards the washer that I was standing near. That was interesting, especially the nice dented foot impression he had left in the side of it. There was a story in that washer, but I couldn't determine what it was immediately.

"Mixed his colours with his whites?" Sargent Arsehole, who I found out was actually named Abreu if the ID his was sporting on his belt was any indication, answered him in reply. "Who knows? The guy was a nut bar."

"Did you already take his phone?" I asked Gregson as I turned back around, scanning the room again. Sherlock was making his own deductions as he walked up to me. We stood shoulder to shoulder as we regarded the room. Sherlock and I worked differently. It was why we had solved the first case together well. I noticed different things than he did just he noticed what I didn't.

"It hasn't turned up yet, but it will," Gregson told us before he walked out of the room leaving us to do what we needed to. I scanned over the pantry, noting the very large bag of rice on one of the shelves before turning back to Sherlock. The only reason I gave it any mind was because it was a rather large bag of rice for a man who lived alone. Sherlock and I nodded at each other before we both slipped our latex gloves on. I, as always, snapped mine into place.

I turned around and started looking through Saldua's mail and possessions. "Here," Sherlock said and I turned around to find him holding a pill bottle. I crossed over to him and he held it out to me, showing the label. Xanax, 1mg. Now that was interesting. It was a tranquilizer. So, what had Saldua needed it for?

"You wanted to be the one that found him, didn't you?" John asked me and I snapped my head up at his words facing him. Part of me would have wished that I could have found him first and alive at that, but I wasn't doing this for the credit, something I had to make John very much aware of. This wasn't about fame or glory. It was all about solving the cases or as Sherlock would say, the work.

"I don't do what I do for the credit John," I answered him truthfully. I truly could care less whether or not I had been the one to find Saldua or not. It made no difference to the case whether Gregson found him first or I did. The only thing that mattered was solving the case at hand.

"Then why do you do it?" John asked me as he looked around the crime scene. "Why do you do any of this?" Sherlock and I shared a look before we both walked towards the door, leaving John behind to catch up with us. I found Gregson and told him that we would be heading back to Baker Street. He said he would call me if they found anything new or if he needed me. As far as he was concerned this case was over. Sherlock walked outside with John and used his magical abilities to hail us a cab. I slid in next to Sherlock like normal and pulled out my phone, updating Mycroft to my whereabouts. I was more consciously aware of the fact that I had worried him on the last case. If he didn't hear from me or know my whereabouts for an hour, he got a task force ready to find me.

When we got back to Baker Street, Sherlock and I flew out of the cab, leaving John behind. He called after us before I caught him muttering to himself about detectives and annoying git which I hoped was directed at Sherlock and not at me. We flew up the stairs and into the flat, past Mrs. Hudson who told us we had a visitor. When we entered the living room we found Mycroft sitting in Sherlock's chair facing the door, his umbrella leaning up against the arm of the chair. Sherlock and I stopped dead in our tracks and I groaned as Mycroft smiled back at us tightly.

"Stop just showing up. I'm fine, I'm safe, and I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone for five minutes," I told Mycroft as I took off my case bag and put it on the coffee table before I headed into the kitchen to make tea. I needed a good cuppa. I also needed to get rid of my babysitter. I was ready to pull another long day's work. It was already one in the afternoon and while Gregson felt that the case was closed, something didn't sit right with me.

"I merely stopped by to drop off something that you may find useful," Mycroft told me as I walked back into the living room to find Sherlock by the window drawing his bow across the strings so it made a high pitched whining sound. I grimaced as I crossed over to Mycroft who was holding a folder out to me. I took it eyeing him suspiciously. My eyes flickered over to Sherlock who was still making ear splitting sounds of his violin.

"Since when do you want to help me on a case?" I asked him skeptically as I opened the folder and flicked through the pages. Bank statements, phone records, just about everything I needed on Peter Saldua. John came up the stairs, wincing as he Sherlock pulled the bow across making an ear splitting sound that resembled nails on a chalkboard that made Mycroft and I grimace at each other.

"I have my reasons," Mycroft said as he got up from his seat and smiled at me tightly. He picked up his umbrella and leaned on it for a second before looking back at his brother. "Always nice to see you brother of mine," Mycroft told him before he walked past me towards the door. "Dr. Watson," He said with a nod before he walked out of sight and I could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"Take a look through these," I told Sherlock who had put down his violin as soon as Mycroft left and had gone to sulk on the couch. I threw the folder on top of him as I passed by the disgruntled looking John and went back into the kitchen to take the screaming kettle off of the stove. I was not going to deal with a childish detective right now who was having a temper tantrum because his older brother had come by. Mycroft was annoying me too, but I wasn't making that big of a deal out of it. The phrase big brother is watching you definitely became literal with Mycroft Holmes. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed as I leaned against the counter before I made a cup of tea for the three of us. I brought Sherlock and John their mugs. Sherlock was now standing on the couch as he flipped through the file. "Sit," I told him pointing to the couch cushions and he rolled his eyes as he jumped, landing on his rear on the cushion I had pointed too. "We sit on furniture, not stand on it," I scolded him and he only huffed as John laughed from his chair. "Watch it Watson, you're next," I warned him as I collected my case bag and went to sit in Sherlock's chair.

I pulled out my laptop and entered the password before starting a search on Dr. Mantlo, his wife, and Peter Saldua. My search provided no useful information. I swore in Gaelic in my frustrations. John looked up from the paper he was reading which had the headline, **"Cabbie Connected with Serial Suicides."** I stood on my chair as I stepped off of it, putting my laptop down on the coffee table and stepped up and over it before plopping down next to Sherlock on the couch. He looked down at me as I sank into the cushions like a child might. I frowned up at him before sitting up and pulling my hair out of its bun. I finger combed my hair as I looked over Sherlock's shoulder at some of the paper's he was looking at. He wordlessly handed me a few papers and we started going through every aspect of Saldua's life up until his death. We stayed that way for a few hours, John sitting in his chair, only getting up once to get his laptop and Sherlock and I on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, going through the file together.

Around five, I migrated out of the living room and into the kitchen. John had fallen asleep in his chair and Sherlock was busy pining up papers to the wall, pushing the thumbtacks into the wallpaper. I left him to make his collage as I opted to make something for dinner. It was the least I could do after dragging John around all day. It also seemed like both men would be leaving the cooking to me. I didn't mind, I actually found cooking to be a great way to relieve stress. With the way I was feeling right now, I felt the need to make something entirely from scratch. I started by washing and peeling five large potatoes, slicing them thinly and setting them aside. I then shredded some carrots and chopped some onions, throwing the mixture into a large bowl, mixing it with some ground pork and beef and seasonings. I set aside the filling and preheated the oven before I moved Sherlock's chemistry equipment aside. I sanitized the counter within an inch of its life before sprinkling flour onto it. I started making the pastry dough, getting flour all over my front and in my hair in the process. By the time I had the dough rolled out and cut into squares on a baking sheet I was laughing at myself.

I heard footsteps and looked up as John popped his head inside the kitchen, taking in my flour covered figure. His laughed as he saw the state of the kitchen. "Got a little into the baking I see?" He remarked as he stepped inside and put our tea mugs in the sink.

"Just a bit," I told him with a grin as I blew flour in his direction.

"None of that," He told me wagging his finger at me as he dusted himself off. I giggled as he came to look over my shoulder at what I was making.

"So what's all this for?" He asked me as he gestured to the filling I had out on the counter.

"Cornish pasties. I can actually cook other things than just Irish food," I told him with a grin before I smacked his arm with my floury hand, leaving an imprint of my hand in white on his jumper. "Now get out of my kitchen. I'm experimenting," I told him as I followed him to the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room. One thing I loved about the layout of the flat was that I could still see into the living room to keep an eye on Sherlock while I was cooking.

"Apparently, to see if flour can be used as a substitute for conditioner," Sherlock's voice called from the living room and I looked up to see him watching John and I. I stuck my tongue out at him before popping back into the kitchen and back over to my dough. I heard John laugh from the living room as I went back to making my pastries. I got them prepped and popped them in the oven and set a timer for 45 minutes before I proceeded to clean up the kitchen and myself. When I was flour free I went back into the living room to wait for the timer to signal that our dinner was done.

I turned on the telly and sat down on the couch as Sherlock stood on the cushion next to me viewing his collage. The news was on and low and behold Dr. Mantlo was giving a statement. "This ought to be good," I remarked as I turned up the volume and sat back. Sherlock looked over his shoulder and sat down properly, folding his hands in the prayer position under his chin as he watched it with me.

"I would like to thank the police, again, for finding the man who killed my wife. I would have liked to see him stand trial for what he did…," He said sounding hallow, not even one emotion in his voice, before I flipped the telly off. Mantlo was pissing me off. There was something that just told me that there was something wrong with him.

"Interesting for a man whose wife has just died he doesn't seem to be all that affected," I remarked to Sherlock before adopting my meditative pose. I pondered the case as I sai before the time went off, pulling me from the deep recesses of my mind. "Something doesn't sit right on this with me," I called back into the living room as I took the pasties from the oven and plated them up. I walked back into the living room with our plates and handed them around. "I don't get it. She had her mole removed when she changed her look," I said as I stood in front of my collage of pictures in front of the mantelpiece I had made earlier. It was a lot more creative than Sherlock's but I did like my arts and crafts. "It doesn't make any sense. She loved that mole. Before her surgery she would turn her head to feature it whenever her picture was taken," I remarked as I pointed out the pictures I had pinned to my board.

"Where did you get those photographs? They aren't the ones Gregson sent over," John asked me as he took a bite of his pasties and made an appreciative noise. I looked back at Sherlock who was nibbling on the edge of one, his eyes snapped up to me as if he knew I was watching him and he immediately put it down and set his plate down on the coffee table. I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness before turning back to my board.

"I reached out to some of Amy's friends via her Facebook page. Social media sites are by far some of the best ways to get information. Harrison Polk was right though. She was as beautiful before her surgery as after so why bother? What was the point?" I asked them as I sat down in Sherlock's armchair and started nibbling on my food contemplatively. "And another thing," I said as I got up and crossed over to Sherlock finding the page I was looking for as I put my practically untouched plate down next to Sherlock's. "Saldua's phone records indicate that he used his cell phone constantly," I continued as I showed John the paper I had been looking for. "And yet, three days ago, he just stopped. Didn't even make a call. Didn't send a single text. Why? Meanwhile his bank statements indicate that he made several checks out to a Dr. Roland Jessup, a psychologist. He seems worth talking to, but a search of his name says he dropped dead of a coronary in 2008," I finished voicing my frustrations as I picked up my viola and crossed over to the window, angrily playing The Flight of the Bumblebee as quickly as I possibly could.

"The Amy Dampier case is over, you helped solve it," John told me and I turned away from the window, breaking off in the middle of the song, my viola making a high pitched sound that John winced at.

"No, something's off with this one, I can feel it," I told him before I looked back at Sherlock. "There's something we missed. Something else, there's always something," I told him before picking up where I left off and playing the rest of the song at record speed for me. I finished with a flourish before I set my viola down and started pacing as Sherlock watched me in his prayer position along with John.

"First thoughts about the husband, your exact first thoughts?" Sherlock asked me and I stopped in my pacing, standing in front of him. I thought about it for a long moment going through the list of deductions I had made about the husband. There was one more than I was expecting to make.

"Liar," I told him simply before I resumed my pacing. I knew that I didn't have to elaborate for him, he would understand what I meant. That was one reason why I got on well with Mycroft. I didn't have to explain myself to him like I did to other people. With Sherlock it was the same way which was one of the reasons why I got along so well with him. All I had to do was give him one word and he would know what I meant.

"What was it that you felt was off about him?" He continued and I rolled my eyes. That was an obvious question. I knew why he was doing it though, he was trying to help me figure it out in his own way. I got a sense of Déjà vu with the questions he was asking me. They sounded like the questions Mycroft would ask me when he gave me the first few cases to work for him. He had followed me on those cases, seeing how I worked. Then, he would ask me questions, force me to work through the case by explain aloud what I had noticed.

"The way he was acting. He had no emotion at all, didn't care that his wife was missing. Even after he found out she was dead he didn't act like someone normally would. You would assume for sentimental reasons that people would typically show some emotion akin to grief but not Mantlo, no," I told Sherlock agitatedly. I was missing something, something big, something slap bang in front of my face. Saldua was the killer yes, but there was more to this case than just a murder, there was something else, I could just feel it. I went over to where I had hung up my coat, pulling out my phone and dialling Gregson's number quickly. He picked up on the third ring. "Gregson, I need you to get together everything you can on Peter Saldua's doctor Roland Jessup. I need to see his medical files, his psychiatric notes," I said quickly, not allowing him time to speak.

"Lexi the case is closed. Why do you need to see the files?" He asked me sounding tired and overworked.

"We missed something, I don't know what, but we did. There is always something. How quickly can you get me his files?" I asked Gregson as I started pacing again. I needed to know for the sake of my own sanity.

"I can get them to you in half an hour at most. I'll meet you down at the Auld Dubliner," He told me before hanging up. I put my phone back in my coat and threw my coat on before pulling my boots back on.

"Where are you going?" John asked me as I darted over and grabbed my case bag.

"To meet with Gregson. He's going to get the file I needed. I have to know, I have to be sure," I told Sherlock who nodded his head at me in understanding as I pulled my scarf on. "Don't wait up for me, I don't know how long I'll be gone," I told the boys as I bolted out the door and down the stairs. I hailed a cab and slid inside the back seat. The cabbie seemed to notice my agitated state and drove me to my destination all the quicker. I paid him as soon as the cab stopped and got out of the cab, heading inside the Auld Dubliner. A band was playing in the back corner, a woman playing an Irish jig on a fiddle. I sat down at the bar which was crowded by tonight's regulars. Fergus was wiping down the bar when I sat in front of him.

"I'll take that pint now," I told him as I held my head in my hands. It was great to be Sherlock Holmes, seeing everything, but I couldn't see what I was missing. I couldn't sit still knowing that there was something I had overlooked.

"I know that look and it never bodes well, for anyone. Case giving you troubles?" Fergus asked me as he set a pint of Guinness in front of me. I snorted as I picked up my glass, saluting him with it before taking a long draught.

"You have no idea," I told him as I set my glass back on the bar and pulled out my phone. I texted Mycroft telling him that I would be out late, before stowing my phone away. I didn't need my babysitter to come by right now. I needed to think. The door opened behind me and I turned in my seat just as Gregson walked in out of the cold and pulled his jacket off. He walked over to the bar and draped his coat over the back of the bar stool next to me and took a seat.

"Whiskey on the rocks," He told Fergus who left us to go get his drink. "Here's everything your dead shrink had on my dead strangler," Gregson told me as he handed me over a file. I opened in quickly and started skimming through the pages as Fergus came back with Gregson's drink. "Thank you," Gregson told him before Fergus left us to talk. "You can thank me as well," Gregson remarked as I flipped quickly through the pages.

"It's dusty," I told him with a raised eyebrow, not even registering his comment. I was too engrossed in looking through all of the files to notice what he had said. This was interesting, terribly interesting, especially if all these notes were correct which given what I had seen myself at Saldua's flat, they were.

"Well, the guy's been dead for almost two years. His widow had all his stuff in storage. You're lucky she even let me take a look. I checked about it earlier in case it was something we needed for the case. Do you want to tell me what this is about? We got our guy Lexi. You need to relax," Gregson told me and my eyes snapped up to him and I sighed heavily.

"I can't Tommy," I sighed, using his first name. "I missed something. I missed something obvious. I have to know what I missed. Sherlock… I think Sherlock already solved it," I told him as I took another long drink from my glass. I could already feel the liquor working on calming my nerves.

"Is that what this is about? You need to show up Holmes?" Gregson asked me as he picked up his glass and took a swig of his own drink. I shook my head quickly as I thought about the real reason why I had to figure this out. It wasn't about Sherlock, no. I wasn't that competitive that I had to figure it out because Sherlock had. No, I needed to figure this out for myself.

"No. I need to figure it out to prove to myself that I can still do this. This isn't about Sherlock, it's about me Tommy. I've been gone for four years. I just decided to come back. I need to know I still have what I used to, that I can still do this without Sherlock. The cab driver case I solved with him. This case you invited me in on and I let Sherlock work with me, but I know I missed something and for my own sake I need to find out what," I confided in him as I finished off my pint. Fergus returned and wordlessly exchanged my empty glass for a full one. He had seen me in this state many times before and he knew that I needed a good drink to help me relax enough in order for me to be able to think. He used to say I needed to shut my brain off just enough that not all cylinders were firing at the same time. "According to this Saldua never told his shrink about his attack of Eileen Renfro, just that he had an obsession with redheaded women and a tendency towards violence," I told Gregson as I flipped to one of the other pages in the file. "And listen to this, 'Now obsessed with his own recovery, Mr. Saldua has taken to recording our sessions with his phone, so he can listen to them again and again.' Has the phone turned up yet?" I asked Gregson hopefully. The answers to what I sought had to be on that phone. That's why it was missing. Why was it that the answers always had to lie with the missing phone? It seemed to be a reoccurring theme.

"No. I'm starting to think he lost it," Gregson told me and I groaned in frustration. Of course he would have lost the one thing I needed. Some people could be really inconsiderate. Then again, he was dead. "Listen I got to use the rest room. Keep an eye on this coat will you?" He asked me and I nodded as I put my head down on the bar, hitting my head against it before I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. I took a long drink of my second pint. My whole body was starting to relax under the influence of the alcohol. As I had told John, alcohol slowed the mind down. It was the only thing that could get me to relax when my brain started going haywire. Recently I had been drinking more than normal, probably because I was getting back into working cases. My brain had been so inactive for such a long period of time and now I was making deductions again and I concentrated on the connections I had been trying to ignore for four years.

"God it feels good. Whether it's me, or both of us, your ass is mine," I heard and I immediately looked up at that, ready to tell whatever bloke that had come over to piss off. Instead, I found an Irish wrestler on the telly above the bar. "You're both dead," The wrestler shouted into the camera.

"Rage?" I thought aloud with a little laugh as I thought back to the overturned washing machine. Oh it was so obvious, I shouldn't have missed it. "He felt rage," I said before I threw some notes down on the bar to pay for my drinks and quickly left the bar. I didn't bother hailing a cab and decided instead to leg it back to Baker Street. Cabs were too slow and I was too impatient to wait. I ran the few blocks back to Baker Street, sprinting past disgruntled pedestrians. I looked up to find the cameras following my path through the streets. I ran out into the road as I crossed the street hurriedly, almost getting run over by a cab. It came to a halting stop and the bumper hit me slightly as my hands braced themselves on the bonnet. The driver honked at me in his annoyance but I only vaulted over the hood of his cab and continued on my way. I was a woman on a mission and not even Mycroft Holmes and the entire British Government was going to stop me even if I did catch sight of one of Mycroft's cars pull around the corner. I finally made it to the green door marked 221B and knocked hurriedly on the door, waiting impatiently as Mrs. Hudson came to open the door for me. Note to self, make sure to get keys before I went out again.

"I thought you would be out for longer dear. Are you alright? John said you were in a right state when you left," Mrs. Hudson asked me as I darted inside after waving to the Mycroft's car where Anthea was probably watching for a signal that I was alright. I made for the stairs, bolting around Mrs. Hudson in my haste.

"Sorry Mrs. Hudson, no time," I called over my shoulder in apology as I took the stairs two at a time and burst into the living room. John was sitting with his laptop and Sherlock was lying on the couch in his prayer position like the other night. I could spot the nicotine patches on his arm only this time he only had one. "Peter Saldua felt rage the night he killed Amy Dampier," I said breathing heavily as soon as John turned to look at me in surprise and Sherlock peeled his eyes open to stare at me. "He had some measure of self-control…," I continued as I crossed over to the couch, still catching my breath, and perched on the arm rest above Sherlock's head. "… with Eileen Renfro but not with her. Why? Tell me, what exactly, does a Xanax tablet look like?" I asked John as I caught by breath. I had a theory, one I had formulated on my run over here.

He looked at me seemingly worried about my mental state having just witnessed me becoming agitated before running off and coming back in an equally worrying state. "Did you run all the way back here?" He asked me in surprise, noting my tangled hair and heaving breaths.

"Now, you want to ask me that now?" I asked him incredulously before shaking my head and answering him when he looked at me pointedly. "Yes, but that doesn't matter. The Xanax tablet, quickly John, what does it look like, exactly" I asked him impatiently as I ran a hand through my hair in agitation. He looked at me for a long moment before answering me. During this time, Sherlock just stared up at me from his position on the couch with interest.

"Small, white, ovular…why?" He asked me calmly as I pulled out my phone and dialled Gregson's division. Please still be there and please don't be as stupid as Anderson.

"Sargent Abreu, please," I asked as soon as someone picked up. I was told to wait and a few seconds later I was passed over to the Sargent.

"Abreu," He answered and I sighed heavily at how slow this was taking. I could now understand Sherlock's impatience earlier.

"It's Alexandira MacKenna," I told him and I heard him sigh heavily into the phone. Well, I wasn't jumping for joy to be talking to him earlier, but this was important. If I was right…if I was right then there was a lot more to this than it looked.

"Make it quick, princess. I was just on my way out," He told me and I rolled my eyes at him. Seriously that was the best come back he had.

"The pill vial from Saldua's desk, I know it was taken into evidence. I need you to find it for me," I directed him as I got up and started pacing back and forth across the living room in a path that I was sure between Sherlock and I would be worn down after a few cases.

"Hold on," He told me before I heard him moving on the other end and the crinkle of an evidence bag as he found what I needed. "Now what?"

"The pills inside should be white and ovular, but they're not, are they? They are round and pink," I stated as I paused and waited for him to answer me. My degree in medicine came in handy in these sort of cases when medical knowledge was needed. I waited for Abreu to answer, but he seemed not to understand my haste. I made a gesture with my hands for him to hurry up. I didn't know if he was worse than Anderson or not. At least Anderson moved slightly faster.

"How did you know?" He asked me and as soon as I got the confirmation I needed I hung up on him.

"We need to go right now," I told Sherlock as I paced back and forth again hurriedly. I looked back at him pleadingly when he didn't move at first. He stared back at me for a long moment before nodding, having deduced the reason behind my need for them to move quickly.

"Where?" John asked me as Sherlock got up and started pulling on his coat. At least I could count on his help when it mattered. Mycroft wouldn't move quickly even if I told him it was a life or death matter, if I mentioned cake however, he would move faster than a man dying of thirst and in sight of water.

"Queen Mary's Hospital," I answered him as I took his laptop from him and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength, closing his laptop and putting it where he had just been sitting. He blinked back at me as if he was trying to figure out how he was suddenly standing.

"Why?" He asked me as he moved to get his coat and Sherlock slipped down the stairs to go and hail us a cab. Bless him, I thought as I hurried John along. Now I understood Sherlock's impatience when things were too slow.

"Are we playing twenty questions? Best not right now and as for why, because I just found out what I was missing," I told John as I rushed out after Sherlock. Stupid, I was so stupid for having missed it. I slid into the waiting cab and as soon as John shut the door behind himself, the cabbie shot off into the growing darkness as soon as Sherlock ordered him to step on it. "I missed it, but you figured it out didn't you?" I asked Sherlock as I turned to him in the cab.

"No," He answered me and I frowned at that as my alcohol impaired mind tried to process what he had just said. Did he say no? He hadn't figured it out?

"You didn't… you didn't figure it out?" I faltered, grimacing when my words slurred a bit. Now, the alcohol chose now to finally start taking effect? I scrunched up my face and shook my head trying to clear off that fuzzy feeling. I shouldn't have drank so much. It had been over two years since I last drank that much or really any liquor at all. Sure, I had the Sangria at Angelo's but before that I had only had the occasional glass of wine when dining with Mycroft. Guinness was a completely different kind of poison.

"Wait hang on, are you drunk?" John asked me as he turned to look at me, noticing my slurred words. I shook my head quickly, my hair covering part of my face due to the movement. I blew it out of my eyes. Yeah, really great way to prove you're sober, I thought to myself.

"No, I didn't drink that much," I told him as I blinked, feeling slightly dizzy. Okay, the alcohol was definitely affecting me more than it should have. Then I remembered that I hadn't eaten anything since that morning as I only nibbled on the Cornish pasties. Oh…that explained why. Well, this was going to be very interesting. To be sure I kept all mental competency while drunk, but my reaction times were notably slower. "Well, maybe I did," I relented after a moment.

"Great you're drunk, oh no, that's perfect," John said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I held my finger up to my lips and shushed him quickly.

"Keep it down. I don't want Mycroft to find out. If he even hears a whisper about this he will be on me faster than a bloodhound," I told John as I looked back at Sherlock. "You didn't know?" I asked him again and he nodded.

"I knew something was off, that was obvious, but I was respecting your wishes. You asked for my help on the case, but you never asked for me to help you find what was missing. As you said, this was your case. I remained silent for the most part as you requested," Sherlock pointed out as he adopted his prayer pose. I blinked back at him in shock. Was it just the alcohol talking or did he actually just say that he hadn't figured it out because he was respecting my wishes? Who was he and what had he done with Sherlock Holmes. "As for why you don't want my dear brother knowing of your intoxication it is because you are afraid that he will think something is wrong, that you are unfit to go back to work if the second case you work becomes too difficult owing to the need for you to drink. Either that or you are afraid that he will think Detective Inspector Gregson is not suitable company for you and a bad influence."

"Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes? 'Cos Mycroft told me about you. He said you never listen to anyone especially not him. He said you do whatever you feel like doing. So why would you listen to me? Why would you stay silent like I asked you to and only help me when I requested it of you? You could have solved this case if you wanted to," I pointed out, sobering up enough to get the words out. He stared back at me, the close proximity of the cab allowing me the chance to look him straight in the eyes. He had such lovely eyes, were they always this colour? They were sort of greyish blue with bursts of gold and green. They were beautiful, luminous. Oh look, the alcohol was back.

"I knew it was what you wanted. You obviously were having doubts about your own abilities. After all, you haven't taken cases in four years. You hesitated slightly at the crime scene. You knew something was off, but at first inspection you couldn't tell what. You were afraid that you were starting to lose your touch. That you could no longer work the cases by your own, which is why you told me to stay silent, you didn't want to hear my deductions, but rather make your own. That was a reasonable explanation to think since you had just solved a case with John and myself. You assumed that maybe your abilities were lacking due to your time away, that my help on the case was necessary in order for you to solve it. By letting you figure out what was missing, you proved to yourself that you still had it in you, that you could still solve a case by yourself. Of course you never should have doubted yourself in the first place. Your powers of deduction need some work, but your good, better than most," Sherlock said quickly, sharing his deductions and I snorted as John groaned, getting ready for us to start another battle of wits. "Given your call to the delightful Sargent Abreu, I believe you discovered the missing part of the puzzle that is Dr. Mantlo."

"Yeah," I drawled out closing my eyes and reopening them as I tried to work through the alcohol. I blinked rapidly before taking a deep breath. "I did figure it out in the end. And who are you to say my skills need work? I'll have you know I've been doing this since I was a child and your brother and I have occasional battles of deduction. I've beaten him almost every time. He told me you only won once," I said as I poked Sherlock in the chest. "So there mister consulting detective man," I said slurring my words more heavily as my Irish accent came slipping out at full force.

"You really shouldn't drink, it makes you sound unintelligent and look it as well," Sherlock told me as he grimaced at me. John took my hand and checked my reaction time. By the time I had went to slap his hand away he had already flicked me on the nose.

"No fair," I told him, pouting like a child. "I only drink when I need to shut my brain off. I was thinking too much, I needed to focus," I said defensively as I crossed my arms in front of me.

"Oh yes, clearly, you needed to think," Sherlock said sarcastically, chuckling deeply as I rolled my eyes at him and huffed.

"You of all people should understand," I snapped at him and he looked back at me curiously as he studied my face. I felt slightly more in control now, but my reaction time and cognitive processes were still slightly slow from the effects of the alcohol.

"Enlighten me," Sherlock asked me and I nodded for a second before sighing and putting my head on his shoulder. He tensed but made no move to shake me off, rather he sat as still as a statue. He was as solid as one too. His shoulder was all bony. I was going to have to feed him a lot more then I already was.

"I can't just turn it off. I look at someone and I see everything no matter how hard I try not to. I don't want to see it half the time. I want to be normal just for a few minutes, be blissfully ignorant to everything around me. For a time, the alcohol helps. My cognitive processes are reduced, my mental state relaxes. I still see everything, but I process it all slower. The drugs sped me up but the alcohol always slowed me down," I reminded Sherlock as I sighed again and lifted my head off of his shoulder. "It never turns off, not even for a second. I'm sure you can understand that," I told him and Sherlock nodded slightly in agreement. He was in the same boat I was. There was no turning our minds off, we just saw what others could not all the time.

For the rest of the ride to the hospital we rode in silence. John helped me stumbled from the car as we reached the hospital and Sherlock paid the cabbie just as I started making it towards the front doors to the hospital. It was then that I noticed Dr. Mantlo, walking to the entrance, heading in for a late night shift. I hurried on over to catch up with him as John and Sherlock followed behind me. Sherlock nodded at me, a sign for me to go ahead and I nodded at him in affirmation before I engaged Dr. Mantlo. I caught up with the doctor at the steps leading up to the hospital doors. John stayed slightly behind us, but Sherlock stood at my side.

"You were Peter Saldua's last therapist, weren't you?" I asked Dr. Mantlo as I walked with him up the steps towards the hospital. He stopped and looked at Sherlock and I in that emotionless way that creeped me out slightly. "You started treating him what, eighteen months ago? Probably just a few weeks before you talked you wife into all that plastic surgery," I continued as we stood facing each other on the steps.

"Excuse me?" Mantlo asked me as he shook his head in disbelief. He looked between Sherlock and me as if he had no clue what I was talking about. Oh, but he knew. He was very smart. I had figured out the how, but not the why yet.

"Saldua wanted to fix himself. Dr. Jessup was his first attempt. You were his second. It's quite a bit of luck, that. You, a man with a wife he wanted dead, stumbling across him, a man with an obsessive personality and a history of violence. Only problem was, of course, Amy didn't fit his victim profile did she? But you accounted for that by pressuring her to alter her appearance until she did. I bet you wish you hadn't gotten him out of the picture. Maybe he could have taken care of me for you too," I rambled on as I quickly shared my deductions with the man. I knew I was right, it all made so much sense now. Saldua was the killer, but he was not the only man that caused Amy Dampier's death. I was proud of myself for not slurring my words though my Irish accent was certainly coming out.

"Ms. MacKenna right? We met the other day? And Mr. Holmes was it?" He asked Sherlock and me. He seemed disinterested, even bored with us. He didn't seem fazed at all in the least bit that I was accusing him of accessory to his wife's murder.

"The pill vial from Saldua's home came from you. Sample from the hospital, no doubt. It would have been easy enough for you to get your hands on. Almost impossible to trace too. He thought he was taking tranquilizers, but he wasn't, was he? He was taking a steroid. You were whipping him into a killing frenzy. A frenzy that only made him more and more confused, more violent, more likely to give into his terrible compulsions," I accused him as I swayed a little in my spot. Sherlock shot his arm out and steadied me and I shot him a thankful glance before looking back at Mantlo who had risen an eyebrow as he took in my current state.

"I suggest that you end this before I decide to go to the police and charge you with slander. I never even heard the name Peter Saldua until the police told me that he was the man that killed Amy," Mantlo told me calmly as if he was talking to a crazy person.

"Bollocks!" I swore shaking my head fiercely. "I imagine that you took to meeting him at odd places, at odd times, so you'd never been seen together, and then when the time was right you took advantage of his job as a delivery man to put him into Amy's orbit. You arranged for flowers to be sent to the house once a week because you needed him to see her. You needed him to become obsessed with her. You loaded him like a weapon and then you pointed him squarely at your own wife."

"You're insane and drunk," He told me and I nodded in agreement. I was both. Anderson, Donovan and him would get along just fine if that was what he thought.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone told me that. He was the one who was insane though doctor. And you took advantage of that fact. After you murdered him, you made it look like a suicide and you took his phone. Why? Because he had taken to recording your sessions as well. Problem? Course not. Killing him was always part of the plan. You'd just take the phone after you had done the deed," I told him and he nodded his head slightly in agreement, smirking a little at me.

"Hypothetically, Ms. MacKenna, a man wants out of his marriage to a very wealthy wife. He knows that during the course of their relationship, he signed a prenuptial agreement that gives him nothing if he leaves her, and a living trust that gives him everything if she dies. Hypothetically, wouldn't that man be smarter to look for a way to trigger the clauses in the second document as opposed to the first?" Mantlo asked me smirking at me as he said it all as if he was proud about what he had done. What happened next was all a blur, but what I remembered was the sound of a sickening crunch as my fist made contact with Mantlo's nose. After that there was a lot of swearing from the both of us, blood from Mantlo's broken nose, and me cradling my hand against my chest. The smug bastard never knew what hit him.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN) Funny drunken Lexi and she wasn't even that drunk. I guarantee you we will see more drunk Lexi in the future. Also, a bit of some really great deduction skills on Lexi's part. Hope you like how she handled Mantlo. :) Few more days until the last installment of this case! Already a lot of reviews. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave a review. I love reading what you have to say and it truly does brighten my day! Cheers my lovelies!**


	16. How It Was Done

**"Roar"**

**I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath**

**Scared to rock the boat and make a mess**

**So I sat quietly, agreed politely**

**I guess that I forgot I had a choice**

**I let you push me past the breaking point**

**I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything**

**You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)**

**Already brushing off the dust**

**You hear my voice, you hear that sound**

**Like thunder gonna shake the ground**

**You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)**

**Get ready 'cause I've had enough**

**I see it all, I see it now**

**[Chorus]**

**I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire**

**'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Louder, louder than a lion**

**'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You're gonna hear me roar**

**Now I'm floating like a butterfly**

**Stinging like a bee I earned my stripes**

**I went from zero, to my own hero**

**You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)**

**Already brushing off the dust**

**You hear my voice, you hear that sound**

**Like thunder gonna shake the ground**

**You held me down, but I got up (HEY!)**

**Get ready 'cause I've had enough**

**I see it all, I see it now**

**[Chorus]**

**I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire**

'**Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Louder, louder than a lion**

'**Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You're gonna hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You'll hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You're gonna hear me roar...**

**Ro-oar, ro-oar, ro-oar, ro-oar, ro-oar**

**I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire**

'**Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Louder, louder than a lion**

'**Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You're gonna hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You'll hear me roar**

**Oh oh oh oh oh oh**

**You're gonna hear me roar...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen- How It Was Done<strong>

"**Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another." ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes**

An hour later I was sitting in a holding cell in Scotland Yard with three fractured knuckles in my left hand, having punched Mantlo square in the face and broken his nose. Gregson had been the one to arrest me and I was sitting waiting for my bail to be posted. After I had punched Mantlo, John and Sherlock were forced to restrain me from attacking him further as Mantlo called the police. John had sworn, Sherlock had smirked, and I was ready to fight. True, my judgement wasn't what it normally was thanks to the alcohol, but the bastard deserved it. When I was lead over to Gregson's car I had told Sherlock to call Mycroft for me and tell him that I would need his help getting out of jail after all. Mantlo charged me with assault of course, the bastard. So here I was sitting in my holding cell, whistling Swing Low under my breath as I waited for Mycroft to come and spring me. He was not going to be happy with me, but he would have found out sooner or later about the drinking. I looked up when I saw John and Sherlock approaching my cell doors.

"Oh hey look, you guys came to visit. I'd invited you in for a cuppa, but I seem to have lost the key," I said as I got up and walked over to the bars of my cell, hanging my arms out of the bars and looking all nonchalant even if my hand was killing me. I had sworn too and in multiple languages. Of course I had fractured the knuckles on the same hand as when I had broken Anderson's nose. "Are we here to plan the prison break? Just slip me the file, I'll get myself out," I joked as John stared back at me in exasperation.

"Why am I not surprised that you aren't taking this seriously? You assaulted someone Lexi! He's pressing charges," John told me and I waved him off with my good hand. I had now gotten to the point in my intoxication where I made up witty comebacks.

"No biggie, Mycroft will spring me. Where is that process at?" I asked Sherlock, hopeful that I could get out of this cell soon. The décor was terrible, the Feng Shui was all off, and my hand was starting to burn. It was a good thing that I had a live in doctor.

"He told me that you would be out in the next few minutes and to tell you that he is not pleased in the least. Something about you causing him a lot of paperwork. Oh and you're not allowed to go within a hundred feet of Dr. Mantlo," Sherlock told me as he smirked. Of course he would be happy, I had just caused a lot of work for his brother. The good part was that I was getting out of here soon. It was nice to be best friends with the British Government. I doubted that this would even stay on my record. Things had a way of disappearing from files around him.

"Why didn't you just tell Gregson what you had found out and let him take care of it?" John asked me, being the voice of reason in this case.

"Because he knows, like I do, that we don't have any proof. Gregson might believe my deductions, but unless I can show him that I'm right, he's never going to believe a word I'm saying. He wants to see hard evidence and I don't have any," I told John as the taping sound of someone walking down the hall way greeted us. I was met by the sight of Sargent Bell who had come to spring me.

"Alright Red, you're free to go," He told me as he came and unlocked my cell door only to find that it was already unlocked when I pushed it open. "How did you do that?" He demanded of me and I grinned back at him as I slipped out of my cell.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out. Suffice to say I got bored. I could have just slipped out, but I was being nice," I told him as I collected my coat, scarf, and case bag from the table that they had been put on when they had been confiscated.

"I should have known MacGyver, just get out of here and go home. Gregson isn't happy with you," Bell told me and I nodded at him as I put my jacket and scarf on, wincing when I had to move my knuckles too much.

"I was planning on it anyway. Let's go home," I told Sherlock who nodded at me and started to lead the way out of the station. It felt so right to call Baker Street home. I felt like I had always lived there and known John and Sherlock. We were the dynamic trio, the detectives and their doctor. Solving crimes and in my case, looking fabulous during the process.

"How bad is your hand?" Sherlock asked me as we exited Scotland Yard and he hailed us a cab. John looked round at be, his eyes zeroing in on my left hand which I was holding gingerly to my chest.

"Not bad, fractured knuckles I think," I responded as a cab pulled up to the curbing. Sherlock walked forward and opened the door for me, waiting for me to get in first before he slid in after me.

"Why didn't you say anything?" John asked me, sounding a little bit ashamed that he hadn't noticed I was injured. I looked across Sherlock at him and smiled at him reassuringly.

"We weren't where you could do anything," I told him with a shrug. "I'll let you patch me up back at Baker Street if it makes you feel better," I said, jumping when Sherlock took my left hand in his. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles and I winced slightly at the movement. He then just held my hand in his and I sighed. His hands were cold and it felt nice. Not as good as an ice pack, but it certainly helped. I sighed and leaned my head against his shoulder.

"So…," Sherlock said after a second and I sighed and looked up at him through my lashes. "Red?" He asked me with a hint of laughter in his voice.

"My code name. As well as MacGyver and 009. That's the difference between Gregson's unit and Lestrade's, you get better nicknames than freak," I told Sherlock with a laugh. He grinned ruefully as I settled back down on his shoulder. I was surprised that he was letting me, but I was tired and I really didn't care at this point. "So, how pissed was Mycroft?" I asked Sherlock and he chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest.

"He complained about having to do leg work, but I think he was angrier with me than with you. Not that I care," Sherlock told me and I giggled. Mycroft was a drama queen. Maybe I would bake a cake for him as a peace offering. I had been causing more trouble for him than usual of late.

"Eh, not too bad then," I said as the cab pulled up at Baker Street. Sherlock reached across from me and opened the door before I slid out. He followed closely behind me, his hand still holding mine. He reached back inside and paid the cabbie before going over to the door of 221B and producing a set of keys which he used to unlock the door. As soon as we got into the hall way, he helped me out of my coat as John headed up the stairs, telling me to go sit on the couch while he grabbed his medical bag from his room. Sherlock sat me down on the couch before going to hang our coats and scarves up behind the door. I was sort of touched by the way both men were taking care of me. Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen as John came back into the room with his medical bag and proceeded to sit next to me on the couch.

"Alright, let me see your hand," He told me and I gingerly placed it in his own. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles like Sherlock had, determining the extent of damage I had done to them. "I'm impressed, you must have put a lot of force into that punch. That still wasn't something you should have done," John scolded me like an older brother might do. I smiled ruefully at him as Sherlock returned with a glass of water for me and a bag of ice. He sat on my other side as John routed around in his bag, looking for what he needed to patch up my hand. Sherlock gingerly put the bag of ice on my hand and I hissed for a second before sighing as the pain started to numb. I shot Sherlock a thankful look as he handed me the glass of water and two Paracetamol tablets. I took them gratefully, aware of the headache that was starting to make its presence known. "I really should take you to the A&E to get this looked at. I think you might need a cast," John told me as he turned around, just then we heard the sound of the door opening down stairs and the sound of two people on the stairs. A few seconds later Mycroft burst through the living room door followed by a man with a medical bag.

"Oh hey Croft," I said sheepishly as I waved my good hand at him. "Good to see you could make it, I was about to suggest we have a party," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're intoxicated," Mycroft stated and I groaned. Of course he could deduce that fact right away, even if he hadn't know which he probably had. I was slightly more sober due to the pain in my hand, but my senses were still slightly dulled at the moment.

"Just a wee bit," I said holding up my fingers to show how much, slipping into my Irish accent. "So who's your friend?" I asked him pointing to the man that stood beside him, looking around the flat.

"My personal doctor. He's here to tend to your hand," Mycroft told me as he gestured for the doctor to take John's place. The man moved forward at Mycroft's order, but stopped when I fixed him with a stare.

"I have my own doctor," I said as I put a hand possessively on John's shoulder when he made to move. I forced him to stay as I stared back at Mycroft. "Stay," I told John pleadingly. I wanted him to tend to my hand, not Mycroft's doctor.

"Lexi…," John tried as he looked at me and then up at Mycroft.

"No, I want you to patch me up, not him," I said as I looked at Mycroft's doctor. "Nothing against you mate, but I trust John not you," I said before turning back to Mycroft. "Give John what he needs and let him do it. Please Croft," I asked him, flashing him the look that I reserved only when I wanted to get my own way.

"Very well, doctor," He said as he gestured to John. The doctor nodded and opened his bag, taking out everything John would need to put a cast on my hand. "You're as stubborn as my brother," Mycroft commented as he looked towards Sherlock who was acting like Mycroft wasn't even there and was instead playing with a piece of my hair. It was kind of sweet.

"Thank you, now I'm tired and this hurts, I'll call you in the morning and you can yell at me if you want to for being stupid and causing you paperwork, the whole shebang," I told Mycroft who sighed heavily and seemed to accept my request. "I am sorry Croft. I do try not to cause you trouble," I told him truthfully. He cared about me, truly cared about what happened to me. I did actually feel bad when I caused trouble for him. He had no reason to watch out for me like he did, but he chose to and that meant a lot more to me than he would ever know. I had no real family until he decided to watch out for me like a brother might. As much as Sherlock and Mycroft didn't get along, I could always say that if I truly needed someone I could count on Mycroft to help me within reason. He might not be the sort of person that would help me hide a body if I needed it, but for the most part, he was always there when I needed him. He told me once I reminded him of his brother. I sort of understood what he meant now.

"The footage of your assault of Dr. Mantlo was entertaining to watch. With that being said due try to stay out of trouble for a few days. I've taken care of the charges brought against you. Good night and to you as well Dr. Watson, brother mine," Mycroft said with a nod in John and Sherlock's direction before he swept out of Baker Street with his doctor in tow.

"Glad that's over," I said as I turned back to John and smiled at him brightly. "Alright, cover me in plaster and patch me up," I told him as Sherlock seemed to come back to the land of the living.

"Please tell my brother to stay out of your business, by association with you I've already had to see him far more than I wish too," Sherlock said irritably as he got up and retrieved his violin before crossing to the window and starting to play a song I had never heard before.

"Croft does what he wants to, whether I want him here or not, he just shows up like a bad penny. I'll mention it to him, try to keep him out of the flat for you, but I don't know how far my requests will go with him right now," I assured Sherlock as John went into the kitchen for a few bowls so he could mix the plaster for my cast. I was grateful that Mycroft had brought the stuff I needed, I hated going to the hospital. It was just too clean, too sterile of an environment. That's why Baker Street felt like home to me already, it was perfect, a grand mixture of organization and chaos. Sherlock grunted in reply as he continued playing and John returned and started putting a cast on my arm. He was forced to immobilize by ring and pinkie fingers and to be safe he made the cast all the way down to my elbow. I huffed in irritation at the fact that I even had to wear a cast. He assured me that it would only be necessary for a week or so, just until my knuckles healed.

Once he was done and everything was in place he wrapped the plaster cast and gauze with a pink wrap. Of course Mycroft had chosen pink, if anything just to annoy me. John smiled apologetically at me when he noticed my grimace at the colour. "So are you going to sign it?" I joked once John had finished. He laughed as he cleaned up his mess and I noticed that Sherlock had stopped playing.

"Go get some sleep," John told me and I groaned as I dragged myself off of the couch. "Doctor's orders," He added with a grin as I ran my good hand through my hair. I smirked at him, if anything, just for him realizing a way to get around my protests.

"Aye aye captain," I said, giving him a mock salute. "Night Lock," I called over to the consulting detective who was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed in the prayer position. Sherlock waved his hand flippantly in my direction and I took that to mean goodnight before I headed into my room. I slipped out of my jeans and managed to get my sweatpants on one handed. Getting out of my bra was a slightly different matter, but I managed after slipping out of my jumper. I pulled my tank top on and let out a little sound of triumph for having managed to dress myself one handed. I realized that the consequences of punching Mantlo meant that I would need John or Sherlock's help to do a few things, like putting up my hair. Hopefully I wouldn't need help getting dressed. That would be a tad bit embarrassing.

I crawled into bed and snuggled down in my sheets, tossing and turning for a bit until I got comfortable enough. My brain was still racing, trying to figure out a way to prove that Mantlo had a hand in Amy's death. After a while though, the toll of the day and the effects of the alcohol slowly made me fall into a peaceful sleep. I slept that way for a long time before the sun started creeping into my room and of course had to fall against me face. I grumbled as I started to wake from my slumber before I yelped in surprise as I noticed I was not alone. I sprang up to sitting and noticed that Sherlock was sitting on the end of my bed in his prayer position. I took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Well at least he hadn't thrown clothes at me.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" I asked him, before waiting for a response that never came. I sighed again and crawled out of my sheets, going to sit next to him at the end of the bed. I poked his arm and still didn't get a response out of him. I then did the only thing I could think of as a last resort, I poked him right in the middle of his cheek. He jumped, startled and looked around before taking notice of me as if he hadn't expected anyone else to be there.

"What are you doing?" He snapped at me and I giggled as I crawled back up to the top of my bed and hunkered back down under my quilt, pulling the blanket up over my head.

"I should ask you the same thing. What are you doing in my room?" I asked him as I peeked over the blanket at him. I wasn't angry that he was in my room. Yeah, I like privacy as much as the next person, but Sherlock didn't bother me.

"I discovered a piece of information about the case, but I didn't know how to wake you. You obviously were upset yesterday morning or at least that was what John said. I was trying to figure out a way of waking you that might be more acceptable, but no ideas came to mind," Sherlock rattled off and I sat up with a grin.

"Thank you Lock," I said using my nickname for him. "So what did you find out?" I asked him as I got out of bed and stretched. I frowned at my cast as the events of the night before came back to me. Thankfully the absence of a headache meant that I had not gotten a hangover. That was the good thing about my tolerance for alcohol.

"I perused through the files you got from Gregson last night. I couldn't sleep. I noticed something that you might be able to use to pin the murder on Mantlo," Sherlock told me as he stood up and swept into the hall, his blue robe swishing behind him like a cape. I smiled fondly at the detectives retreating back as I followed him out into the living room where John was sitting, drinking tea and reading the morning paper.

"Ah good morning, how's your hand or more like your head?" John asked me with a grin, expecting me to have a hangover due to last night's drinking. Well, the little smirk was about to be wiped off his face.

"Both are fine actually. I don't get hangovers and as for my hand, it's as good as I would expect fractured knuckles would be," I told John as I followed Sherlock over to his desk and perched on the edge of it as he opened the file I had gotten from Gregson. "So what did you find?" I asked him as I leaned over the file, our heads nearly pressed together.

"Saldua's medical file indicates he had an allergy to rice. Seems normal enough, but anyone with half a brain might find it suspicious that he had a rather large bag of rice in his pantry for a man that was supposedly allergic to the stuff. So either he was an idiot or he was using the rice for another purpose," Sherlock told me as he pulled out his phone and showed me a picture he had taken of the man's pantry.

"Sherlock Holmes you are a bloody genius. I think I know what he was using it for. If I'm right, we just solved the case," I told him as I jumped off the desk and went to retrieve my phone. "Just out of curiosity, why did you try to look for proof of Mantlo's involvement for me?" I asked Sherlock as I held my phone in my hand and went to sit back on the corner of his desk. He pushed back in his chair and adopted his prayer position that I now understood he adopted whenever he was thinking.

"This case meant something to you. You wanted to prove to yourself as much as to Gregson that you still had what it takes. Last night, you showed just how much this case meant to you. You didn't ask for my help, but I decided to give it anyway," Sherlock told me simply as if the answer was obvious.

"Well whatever the reason Sherlock, thank you. It means a lot to me," I said before looking back to John who looked sort of surprised by Sherlock's admission. "You too John, you've been a big help."

"Ah… don't mention it," John said as he regained his composure and smiled back at me in a friendly way. "Just don't go out drinking and end up punching someone again," He teased with a laugh. I shook my head ruefully and rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, lesson learned," I told him as I held up my hand. I looked down at my phone and dialled Gregson's number as I kicked my feet back and forth. He picked up on the second ring and cut me off before I could speak.

"Lexi, I don't want to hear excuses. I tried to humour you, I gave you the files, but you have to stop this. The case is over and done with. Saldua was our guy. You are not to go anywhere near Mantlo," He told me firmly and I waited for him to finish before cutting in.

"Let me speak and don't interrupt me," I told Gregson before continuing before he could protest. "Mantlo was involved in the death of his wife and I can prove it. There is a bag of rice in Saldua's home, get out to the crime scene and bring it back to the Yard. If I'm right, you arrest Mantlo as a conspirator to murder and if I'm wrong, you can say I told you so," I told Gregson who sighed heavily. Logically my plan made sense.

"Fine, I'll send someone out to go get it," Gregson relented after a second before cutting off my thanks. "But I want you and the chuckle twins down in the Yard now. I want an explanation."

"We'll be there shortly," I told him before hanging up and looking at Sherlock and John. "He wants us there as soon as possible," I told them, glossing over the name Gregson had for them, before hopping off the desk to go and get ready. I managed a shower, but the plastic bag over my cast was a pain in the arse. Somehow I managed to put a bra back on and put on a fresh pair of jeans and a dark blue jumper. Blow drying my hair one handed I was a pro at, but doing anything other than brushing it was where my luck ended. I grabbed a hair elastic and brought it with me as I threw my clothes into my hamper on my way to the living room. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, fully dressed and ready to go and John was nowhere in sight so I assumed that meant he was still getting ready upstairs. "Um, Sherlock?" I asked as I approached him, slightly embarrassed that I had to ask for his help. He hummed a sound and I decided to just ask him straight out. "Can you help me with my hair? I'd do it myself, but I can't do it with only one hand," I asked him and he looked over at me. I waited for his reply and the only answer he gave me was a gesture for me to come sit on the arm of his chair. I complied and handed him over the hair elastic. Wordlessly he twisted my hair up into an elegant bun and tied it in place for me. "Thank you,' I told him once he had finished and I went to get up, but his hand stopped me in place.

"I understand that your…injury might hinder you from doing some things yourself. If you require any assistance, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure I can try to help you unless of course you would feel uncomfortable with my help," Sherlock offered and I smiled back at him softly, touched by his rather out of character offer. I realized that this was him making an effort, trying to get to know me and even help me.

"Thank you Lock," I told him before grinning as a thought popped into my head. "Maybe next time I can punch Anderson for you. I still have one good hand," I told him and I watched as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. John's footsteps came from the stairs and I moved off of the arm of Sherlock's chair and went back to my room, getting my boots on before returning to the living room. John and Sherlock were waiting for me by the door and Sherlock helped me into my coat and put my scarf on for me before the three of us started down the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and hugged us all at the bottom of the stairs she gasped when she saw my cast and started tittering over me like a mother hen. "What has Sherlock gone and done to you?" She asked me as the boys went outside to get us a cab.

"Nothing Mrs. Hudson, this was my fault. We'll be out for a little bit, got to take care of this case. We'll be back later," I told her giving her a hug before I went to join Sherlock and John outside. They were already waiting for me in the cab and I slid into the seat, surprised when I was sitting next to Sherlock rather than John. We headed down to Scotland Yard and half an hour later were walking through Gregson's division to his office. When we entered, the bag of rice from Saldua's house was sitting on Gregson's desk and the man in question was sitting behind it looking not so very happy. "I'll explain after I find my proof," I told him as I breezed into the room and went straight for the bag of rice.

"You busted up your hand pretty good," Gregson commented as I opened the bag of rice and dug around in it. My hand came in contact with hard plastic and I cheered in triumph as I pulled Saldua's missing phone from the bag.

"You Sherlock, are an absolute genius," I said as I put the phone down on Gregson's desk. I didn't miss the smirk that Sherlock aimed in my direction, it was his turn to be smug. "Saldua's missing phone. Sherlock looked over the file you gave me last night and rather interestingly found out that he was allergic to rice. I connected the dots and now I have my proof. Mantlo wanted his wife dead, his prenuptial agreement meant that he would get nothing if he divorced Amy, but all of her fortune in the event that she died. Mantlo became Saldua's psychiatrist. He found out about his obsession with red heads and his predisposition towards violence and he formed a plan, one that involved pressuring his wife into altering her appearance so she fit Saldua's victim profile. He gave Saldua steroids rather than tranquilizers, which made him more and more violent, a common side effect. Then, Mantlo took advantage of Saldua's job as a delivery man to put him right into Amy's path. It didn't take long before the obsession got to be too much. At the crime scene, we found an overturned washer machine. At first, I didn't think much of it until Sherlock told me about the rice allergy. After that it was easy to put the pieces together. His phone was missing. Saldua took to recording his sessions, Mantlo couldn't find the phone when he looked for it after he murdered Saldua. Saldua had laundered it, when he found out that his phone, the one thing he valued most because of all the recorded sessions on it, could possibly be broken, he flew into a fit of rage thus kicking over the washing machine. Next, he went out and bought a bag of rice, rice of course being a way to get water out of electronics. If I'm right and it is safe to assume that I am, the proof of Mantlo's association with Saldua is on his phone," I explained before I picked up Saldua's phone and found all of his recordings on the phone. I was thankful that the phone was still working. I played the first one and after a few seconds Saldua and then Mantlo's voices could be heard from the phones speaker. "I suggest you bring him in," I told Gregson who was staring at me in bewilderment.

"That was bloody brilliant. Really incredible," John breathed behind me and I turned back to him with a grin.

"Thank you John," I told him with a little curtsy as I shared a look with Sherlock. We smiled at each other knowing we had Mantlo hook, line, and sinker. There was no way out of this for him.

"Mantlo is supposed to come in so I can extend to him an official apology from the division for the little stunt you pulled last night. We'll arrest him when he's in the office," Gregson told me and I grinned at him as I turned back to Sherlock.

"We make a rather good team you and me," I commented and he nodded, with a slight smirk on his face. "And John, fabulous work mate," I told him and he looked back at me in confusion.

"I didn't… I didn't really do anything though," He said and I shook my head and held up my cast.

"I think you actually did Doctor, who else is going to patch me up when I decide to do something stupid?" I asked him before turning back to Gregson. "Text me when Mantlo gets here, I have to go upstairs to see Lestrade," I told him and he nodded at me before I led the boys up to Lestrade's division and sauntered inside. "Step into my office," I told the boys as I walked through the division and opened a door near Lestrade's office. I flicked on the light and stepped inside my old office. I was surprised to find that it was almost exactly like I had left it. The only difference was that there was slightly more clutter and boxes of case files that Lestrade had probably stored in there.

"You can't go in there!" I heard someone yell behind me before I turned around and was met with the curly haired, Sargent Donovan.

"My office, my rules. Where's Lestrade?" I asked her as I sat down in my chair and spun experimentally in it before propping my feet up on the desk. Sherlock was looking through some of my old stuff I had left behind while John had opted to sit in the chair by the window.

"Out why?" Donovan asked me. Everything she said just sounded unpleasant.

"She wanted to see him, obvious," Sherlock snapped back and I grinned back at him as I twirled in my chair.

"You're still alive I see," Donovan commented in John's direction. "I told you to stay away from them," She continued as I twirled the chair back in her direction.

"Donovan, you always did have such a way with words. Let Lestrade know I want to see him when he gets back. I'm wrapping up a case, thought I would stop by," I said, waving my bad hand around nonchalantly.

"Someone finally had enough of you?" Donovan commented as her eyes zeroed in on my cast. I looked down at it and shrugged.

"Actually I punched a murderer in the face," I told her as I got up out of my chair. "Not that I'm not enjoying this riveting conversation, but…," I said as I grabbed the door and stood in front of it. "I have more important things to be doing," I finished as I shut the door in her livid face. "So find anything you like?" I asked Sherlock as he flicked through a few of the case files I had left behind.

"You worked these cases?" He asked me actually sounding genuinely interested. I made my way over to him and stood on tiptoes so I could see which file he was looking at.

"Yeah, that was one of mine. I remember that one, one of my first cases actually. That was the one with…," I said before Sherlock finished for me.

"The serial child killer, yes. I remember that case. It was what, three victims before the case was solved? I remember, I tried to get Lestrade to let me in on the case, but he refused, said he had all the help he needed. When the case was solved so quickly I was surprised," Sherlock commented and I giggled at the face he was making.

"Well, you know, I do try. That one was a bit of a tricky one. If I remember correctly, he made a mistake because the child left behind a clue. He wasn't careful, they always make a mistake in the end. We found the boy, safe and relatively sound," I told Sherlock as I sat on the edge of my desk and kicked my legs back and forth on the desk.

"That's incredible, what you do, solving cases, saving lives," John said and I looked over to him with a sad smile. He was right, it was incredible and I loved doing it, but it wasn't always as perfect as it sounded. Every so often you made a mistake, you got too invested or you slipped up and that meant someone had to take the fall. Sometimes you lost someone in the process. I was no exception to that. Even I had days where I messed up. In a way, that was why I had to be right for this one.

"It has its costs, John," I told him as my phone trilled a text alert. I checked my phone and grinned just a little bit. "Well looks like shit is about to hit the proverbial fan," I said as I hopped of the desk. "Ready to go show off a bit?" I asked Sherlock who nodded at me as he followed me out of my office with John in tow.

"Oh great, the freaks are here," Anderson said as we stepped out of my office. Just then Lestrade walked into the division and spotted me, effectively ending that conversation.

"And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He started before he noticed my hand. "What did you do?" He asked me and I rolled my eyes and the concern in his voice as I shrugged.

"Might have had a little disagreement with a murderer. We'll be back in a bit, have to go wrap up a case downstairs. I'll tell you all about it later," I assured him as Sherlock breezed out of the division, his coat swishing behind him like a cape. John waited by me, unsure where he fit into all of this.

"You'd better," Lestrade warned me and I nodded at him, before following Sherlock out. He was waiting for us at the stairs and we walked down together to Gregson's division. We walked into Gregson's division and Bell let me know that he was just waiting on Gregson's to call them in. Gregson had Mantlo in his office and was making his official "apology" to him. I stood by the door where I could see through Gregson's office door without Mantlo seeing me. I could also hear everything that was being said through the door.

"Dr. Mantlo," Gregson said as Mantlo stood and they shook hands. "Sorry about the wait. I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to apologize face-to-face for what happened last night," Gregson continued as he sat back down behind his desk.

"I can't promise it'll change my mind about suing the department over what your consultant did, but it's a start," Mantlo said and I rolled my eyes. He was lucky that all I did was break his nose. Sure, he looked pathetic with two black eyes and a taped up nose, but he deserved what he had gotten from me.

"There is just, ah, one thing I wanted to ask you. Did you ever treat Peter Saldua as a patient?" Gregson asked him and I grinned, knowing that we had him just where we wanted him to be.

"You have a funny way of saying you're sorry, Detective," Mantlo said with a frown and I looked back at Sherlock and we rolled our eyes in unison. Was he that stupid that he didn't think we would figure it out?

"Detective Inspector actually," Gregson told him with a grin and I snorted as John coughed out a laugh behind me. "It's a simple question, Doctor."

Mantlo nodded slightly and turned away from him. "No. I never treated Peter Saldua, I never even met the man," He told Gregson who nodded as though he was anticipating the answer which of course I knew he had. "Now, if that's it, I am late for an appointment with my attorney..."

"Sargent Bell!" Gregson called, giving us the cue to come in. Mantlo looked back at the office door as the four of us stepped inside Gregson's office, joining him to share our evidence.

"You know you're just digging yourself deeper, putting this woman in the same room with me?" Mantlo asked him, sighing impatiently.

"Dr. Mantlo," I said as I opened my case bag and let Sherlock take out Saldua's medical file for me. He flipped to the page I need and placed it, open, in front of Mantlo. "This is a medical form completed by Peter Saldua for another of his doctors."

"I told you before, Ms. MacKenna, I was never one of Peter Saldua's doctors…," Mantlo tried, but I didn't let that go far before interrupting him.

"My partner Mr. Holmes was perusing the file last night when he very astutely noticed that Saldua had a rather strong allergy to rice," I said before he interrupted me. I sighed heavily, waiting for him to finish.

"This is ridiculous."

"Hm. As I was saying, Sherlock noticed Saldua's allergy to rice, so you can imagine his confusion when he remembered seeing a sack of the stuff sitting on one of his shelves."

"We also found a credit card receipt that showed that he had bought it exactly three days before his death," John added, and I looked back at him with a grin. Watson, you are an absolute gem.

"Odd that, right? Him going to the store and buying the one thing he's allergic to. Odder still, it was the same day he stopped using his cell phone. First, I thought that was by choice. Then I remembered the overturned washing machine," I continued before Mantlo interrupted me again. I was dying to punch him again. Did he not know when to give up before digging himself into a deeper hole?

"What does a bag of rice and an overturned washing machine have to do with anything?" Mantlo asked me sounding exasperated. I grinned at him manically, a perfect question to ask me. I took a seat next to Mantlo and he leaned away from me as I got closer to him, still grinning.

"Oh I am so glad you asked me that question. I'll admit, I was wrong the other day when I accused you of taking Saldua's phone after you had murdered him. You wanted to take it, but you couldn't, could you, because you couldn't find it. He laundered it, you see. Left it in his pocket when he put his trousers in the wash. By the time he realized, it was too late. The phone that he'd turned into a…a virtual library of his therapy sessions was no longer functional. Furious with himself and suffering the effects of what he couldn't possibly have known was steroid intoxication, he destroyed the washer in a fit of rage. And then he went to the nearest grocer's and purchased a bag of rice," I said, Mantlo cutting me off as he chuckled at my theory. "Sherlock, care to elaborate the rest?" I asked him as I looked back at him.

"Gladly," He said with an equally mischievous smile before he looked to Mantlo. "Rice, as you're apparently not aware given your lack of a brain, is a natural desiccant. It can be used to absorb moisture from electronic devices that have been immersed in water. Lexi contacted Gregson this morning and had him go out to Saldua's home. She examined, the bag of rice in question and you'll never guess what we found inside," Sherlock finished as Gregson put Saldua's phone on his desk in front of Saldua. I reached for it and opened it, pressing a button and waiting for the recording of one of Saldua's therapy sessions to begin to play.

"Her name is Amy. Um. When I see her, I get these feelings. I….Please, Dr. Mantlo, you need to help me. You need to tell me how to stop myself from murdering her, I don't—hurt her…," Saldua said over the recording, breaking down as he spoke.

"It's okay, Peter, it's… it's okay. I'm here for you. Let's try upping your meds, see where that leads us," Mantlo said over the recording and the man sitting before me turned away, realizing he had been cornered.

"So, I'll ask again Dr. Mantlo. Did you ever treat Peter Saldua as a patient?" Gregson asked him with a grin. "You are under arrest Dr. Mantlo for your association in the murder of Amy Dampier," Gregson continued as Sargent Bell cuffed him. Mantlo looked back at Sherlock and me with a dirty look as he was led away. If looks could kill, I would be seriously worried. "Good work and welcome back," Gregson told me as I turned back to him.

"Glad to be back. Remember, I only take the interesting cases," I warned him as I walked to the door, looking back with a grin. "I'll see you around," I told him as I looked back to Sherlock and John. "So, who wants to celebrate at Angelo's?"

"That sounds lovely," John remarked as he followed me out of Gregson's office. "Course he still thinks Sherlock and I are dating," John added after a second.

"You're not really my type," Sherlock said as he followed us out, smirking ruefully at me as he passed.

"I'll meet you back at Baker Street," I told them as we walked out of the division. "I have to tie up a few loose ends with Lestrade," I told them as I headed for the stairs.

"Good luck," Sherlock told me and I laughed as I nodded at him.

"It's just Lestrade, I think I'll be safe," I shot back before leaving them to go and share the case with Lestrade. John gave me a one armed hug on his way out. I smiled at him fondly as he left, catching Sherlock's eye and nodding at him. Dr. John Watson was one of the best men I had ever met and I didn't regret meeting either of them at all.

I was back and Sherlock had showed me that I still could do what I used to. I sat for a few hours in Lestrade's office, talking to him about the case, about what life was like with Sherlock and John, and how I was back to taking cases. We laughed about the old times and for a while it was like I had never even left in the first place. A lot changed in four years tough and it seemed like my life had changed for the better. Mycroft picked me up and brought me back to Baker Street and John, Sherlock, and I spent the night at Angelo's celebrating not only my return to work, but also the start of our association with each other.

"You said it has its costs," John said over dinner and I looked up from my pasta dish in surprise. I wasn't surprised that he brought it up, but really more that he cared to. I could see that he genuinely did want to know what I meant. I sighed, noting that Sherlock had stopped picking at his food and had taken more of an interest in me. Might as well tell them now, it was as good a time as any. "What does?" John pressed me further and I nodded more o myself that to him before I explained it to them.

"Learning to see the puzzle in everything. They're everywhere. Once you start looking, it's impossible to stop. It just so happens that people, and all the deceits and delusions that inform everything they do, tend to be the most fascinating puzzles of all. Of course, they don't always appreciate being seen as such," I explained to John and Sherlock as I sat back in my chair and took a sip of my Sangria, staring into the liquid as if I could find comfort in it.

"Seems like a lonely way to live," John commented with a frown while Sherlock's eyes bore into my own as if he could see down to my very soul. I sort of understanding past between us in that moment, one that would be the defining feature in our relationship. If anyone could understand the costs, it was Sherlock. He had already experienced them first hand for himself.

"As I said, John, it has its costs," I told him as I smiled sadly at him. John reached across the table and put his hand over one of my own, giving me a reassuring smile.

"Not anymore," He told me and I saw the truth of that in his eyes and smiled back genuinely at the army doctor who had, through some miracle, crossed paths with me. The night ended back at Baker Street with mugs of tea and Sherlock playing the violin late into the night. Baker Street had become my home and I couldn't thank Mike enough for introducing me to John and Sherlock. I sat in my chair by the fire and smiled as I watched John and Sherlock interact. In that moment it was just Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys against the world.


	17. Lesser Evils

**(A/N) And here we are with the beginning of an all new case for Lexi and Sherlock. Let's see how they get along on this case shall we? To the wonderful Liz who will be uploading the chapter for me while I am away on holiday this week, this chapter is for you. I do hope you like the character I created just for you. Another chapter will be uploaded on Wednesday! I really loved writing this case and the dynamic between Lexi and Lock which is changing. I will see you all next Sunday my lovelies or next Monday if I am too tired to post when I get back from holiday. For all of you I posted a one shot of the five times Sherlock Holmes met Lexi MacKenna and the one time it mattered, it's called Destiny and Fate. **

**Now some notes on reviews:**

**crzychigurl343 - love the prompt, I'm going to write it while on holiday since it goes with this case and I'll post it as soon as I get back.  
><strong>

** - yes, lol I am a whovian, I even have a tattoo that proves it. The Doctor will actually show up in a one shot idea, one chapter of when they meet and a second about how he might have helped with the Fall. Yes, Lexi's father makes an appearance, during a Scandal in Belgravia actually. Your English is beautiful by the way. :)**

**Valkyrie- More adorable moments to come, especially during the Blind Banker. yes, I am adapting cases from Elementary, I love the show as well and there are going to be lots of chapters I adapt from that show including the next two cases after this one. I put my own spin to them of course. I have so many plans for Scandal in Belgravia. Irene is still the same way, but there will be redeeming moments. Let's just say she might get in the way of Lexi and Sherlock, but Lexi and her have a heart to heart in the end. I know, the flow was never right for me. As I have it planned we see the start of the case and then I add on things for the time lapses like Sherlock, Lexi, and John going to Dublin on an case for one of Lexi's old friends and we finally meet Lexi's father. There is also a whole bunch of other stuff I add in that case and then after the case before we get to Baskerville. After Baskerville I have it planned that Lexi finally gets to meet Mummy Holmes. Should be rather interesting. I love the start to the Blind Banker and I've added so much to it already and I am changing a few things that happened in it. Moriarty is coming soon I swear. I love writing him and I'll tell you, it will be interesting to see how he is with Lexi. Fingers crossed you will love it. Don't apologise, I ramble on more than you do. Yes, though, lots more Elementary cases! If you ever have more questions about later cases PM and I would love to chat. I can also let you know which Elementary cases I am adapting. I loved some of the new episodes so those might be going into season 3.**

**Song that inspired the chapter: Doctor Who XI/ I Am the Doctor was what I was listening to while writing this chapter, you'll see why.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen- Lesser Evils<strong>

"**Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing. It may seem to point very straight to one thing, but if you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something entirely different" **

―**Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes**

A week past in Baker Street rather uneventfully. The only things that happened of note was that John moved into the flat with Sherlock and I and Mycroft brought over a few of my things he had been keeping at his flat which included my sword which was promptly put on the mantle behind Yorrick and Angus. I was happy to finally have my singlestick and fencing equipment even if John was putting his foot down and confining me to light duties, doctor's orders. Sherlock surprised me by offering to help John move in, but both boys refused my help. By the end of the week, I was dying to get my cast off, but as my hand was still rather painful, John refused to take it off early. I missed playing my viola, it was so boring without a case. Sherlock spent the days in the flat in his robe, not even bothering to get dressed or even showered if the way his hair was sticking up at odd angles was any indication. In fact, he was starting to resemble a well-dressed hobo. I kept him busy by taking him up to the roof to see my hives. We found out that the only way up to the roof was from the fire escape just outside John's bedroom window. Needless to say, we did not alert John to this fact. I left Sherlock up on the roof by himself for a few hours and when he came back in through John's window he looked a great deal happier than before. I was able to keep Mycroft's visits down to a minimum. Besides coming once to drop off the last few boxes of my things, he seemed to get the message that he wasn't really welcome at the flat. After the first day of not having a case, Sherlock was ready to climb up the walls and John was already at his breaking point between my complaining about my cast and Sherlock complaining that he was bored. I wasn't trying to irritate the army doctor, but I was starting to remember the one part of this job that always annoyed me in the past, the long wait for another case.

One morning, John woke up to find Sherlock and I experimenting in the kitchen with the thumbs Sherlock had in the fridge. Apparently he didn't appreciate that we were using a coffee cup instead of a beaker to dissolve fingers in acid. I pointed out that we would be cleaning out the mug before using it again, but that wasn't good enough for him and our experiment ended up getting cut short. Needless to say, we had new coffee cups in the house by the next morning. John found me sitting in the living room drinking tea from one of the new mugs the next morning as Sherlock dissected a sheep's heart on the coffee table. That experiment ended in another fight. On the third day, Sherlock and I decided to not do any experiments as John seemed not to be in the mood for them. Sherlock left the flat to go and bug Lestrade for a case and John left to go on a date with some girl he had met. Sherlock and I had already taken bets for how long we thought that was going to last. Sherlock gave him two weeks, but I gave John until the end of the week. He was a nice guy, but the girls he picked up were not what he needed or deserved. I felt that they were taking advantage of the fact that he was a good guy. While Sherlock was gone, I set up my own website called The Art of Crime and started posting analysis I had written up already to it. Sherlock returned home in a bad mood, but John on the other hand looked rather smug with himself. On the fourth morning I was ready to start pulling my hair out. John was still not allowing me to do anything because of my hand and I still had to keep asking Sherlock for help. I went out with Mycroft just to get out of the flat even though I had seen far too much of him in the last week to last me for a life time. I returned to the flat to find the kitchen in shambles and a very livid John, Sherlock apparently having gotten bored and decided to see how some chemicals reacted when put together.

For two days, Sherlock and I laid around the flat after that, attempting to not piss John off further, the man in question still in a mood about Sherlock almost having blown up the flat as he put it. I read through some of Sherlock's chemistry and history books, while lending some of my Agatha Christie novels to Sherlock that didn't have so predictable endings. Our new routine left us sitting in the chairs across from each other with a mug of tea that I would get up and refill every other hour. We didn't talk to each other, but rather stayed in companionable silence. Every so often I would look across to the detective who looked almost childish as he sat in his chair with his feet tucked up under him and his head resting against one hand, his boyish curls an absolutely adorable mess. If he ever heard my thoughts, I was sure that Sherlock would glare at me for hours and probably have a few comments about me and the female population. It was over these days that John seemed a little calmer. We weren't trying to piss him off, it was just… we were so bored just sitting around the flat. Sherlock and I needed something to do, something to keep our minds occupied with for a few hours. It was on the last morning of my first week at Baker Street that I woke up to find fluff all over the living room and Sherlock stabbing some of Mrs. Hudson's couch cushions with my sword. I stood in the hallway, blinking at Sherlock for a few seconds before I spoke up.

"Um Sherlock, what are you doing to Mrs. Hudson's pillows?" I asked him, already knowing the answer to my question, but wanting to hear it from him as I hopped over a piece of fluff. Sherlock paused what he was doing and spun around with my sword in his hand, his robe swishing behind him like a cape.

"It's an experiment, obviously," Sherlock quipped at me before turning back to assault the pillows again. I shook my head in exasperation before a light bulb turned on over my head. I grinned to myself mischievously as I darted back to my room and grabbed my fencing sword from the corner of my room. I snuck back into the living room and waited for a second before making my presence known.

"Heads up!" I warned Sherlock as I pounced at him with my fencing sword in my right hand. I brought my sword swinging towards Sherlock who turned and deflected my blow at the last second.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked me as he deflected the second swing I aimed at him. I paused in my assault and grinned at him evilly.

"An experiment, obviously," I shot back at him as I attacked him again. We danced around each other for a few seconds, trading blows as we fought. I jumped back from Sherlock's overhead slice, noting that I was only at a slight disadvantage since he was fighting with an actually slightly deadly weapon and I was fighting with a fencing sword. He was also rather skilled which I knew he would be given how Mycroft told me he was brought up."Much more interesting, wouldn't you agree?" I asked Sherlock as I jumped up on his chair and parried his attack.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed in agreement as our swords clashed. "You have nice form for someone not fighting with their dominate hand," Sherlock complimented me as I jumped off the back of his chair and circled him again. I grinned at him smugly as I clashed swords with him and stood face to face with him.

"I'm actually ambidextrous," I told him as I pushed him away from me and poked him in the chest with my fencing sword. Sherlock looked down at the sword and growled slightly before I giggled and we returned to our sword fight. This was a far better way to wake up in the morning that tea. Getting the blood pumping through your brain due to physical activity. I ducked as we fought by the door to the kitchen and Sherlock's sword buried itself into the door frame, pulling out a chuck of wood. I winced knowing Mrs. Hudson was not going to be happy when she found that. I probably should have attempted to block his blow. "I have to say, you are a lot better than Mycroft," I complimented Sherlock as we moved back into the living room and circled each other as we met each other's blows.

"That is because my brother is not so light of foot," Sherlock remarked drily and I giggled at that. He had a point. Mycroft opposed leg work and often would have me or someone else do it for him when he got the chance to. There was also the fact that he had tried many diets over the years I had known him, caving after only a few weeks. Mycroft had a bit of a love affair with cake.

"Mmm, his diet isn't going the best right now," I agreed with Sherlock just as John came storming into the living room. We stood there, our swords clashed over head in a final clang of metal on metal before Sherlock and I stopped fighting, our swords falling to our sides as we sheepishly stared back at John who we had apparently woken up due to our sword fight in the middle of the living room.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" John shouted at us as he looked between the two of us furiously. I shrugged at him as I looked back at Sherlock with a sheepish smile on my face. We looked at each other for a long moment before turning back to John.

"It's an experiment," We told John in unison, Sherlock saying it as a statement while I said it more like a question. John let out a long breath and threw his hands into the air before he spluttered as if thinking of a response for that.

"An experiment, of course, makes perfect since for two grownups to be sword fighting in the middle of the bloody living room!" John shouted at us, his face turning slightly red before he walked up to us and took our swords away. Sherlock and responded by pouting at John. "You can't have the swords. I can't believe I even have to tell you that. And look at the pillows," John continued to rant as if he only just noticed them which was possible. "I'm guessing this was another experiment too?" John asked the both of us angrily.

"Um that was him," I said as I pointed at Sherlock who immediately turned to me questioningly. I gave him a pointed look before turning back to John trying not to giggle at the absurdity of the conversation we were having. I had no qualms about throwing Sherlock under the bus especially since John's face had turned a lovely shade of red.

"Oh they had it coming to them," Sherlock shot at John before he crossed over the war zone that was the living room and fell onto the couch with a loud sigh, turning his back away from us and curling up in the fetal position. I snorted at him before looking round at John again who was just shaking his head before he turned and walked out of the room. I could hear him angrily stomping up to his room as he loudly complained that he was living with two children. I looked back at Sherlock who seemed to be in the middle of a sulk since our swords had been taken away. I giggled before skipping through the carnage of the room. I lifted Sherlock's feet, slightly surprised when he obliged me, before sitting down at the end of the couch and putting his feet in my lap. I sunk down into the couch cushions and closed my eyes as John came back down the stairs, still stomping around angrily.

"No sword fighting in the living room, no destroying the pillows, and no experiments," John told us as he walked back into the living room. I opened one eye lazily to find that he was dressed in his oatmeal jumper and jeans, looking like he was heading out. "I'm going out to meet with Jackie, just sit there and don't blow up the flat," John told us as he moved to get his coat on. I snorted and closed my eyes again as Sherlock remained silent in his sulking. I was pretty sure that the rest of the day would pass uneventfully now. Why couldn't there just be a good murder?

"Don't worry, just go out," I grumbled to John as I opened one eye to look at him again. He was staring back at me and just rolled his eyes as he pulled his shoes on.

"And one of you should clean this up before Mrs. Hudson sees it," He told me as he gestured to the fluff. I took out my phone from my robe pocket and texted Mycroft that I need a cleaner sent to Baker Street and a few new pillows for the living room. He replied a few seconds later that they would be sent over and it would be taken care off. I looked up at John and smiled cheekily.

"Done and done. Mycroft is going to take care of it. Ye of little faith Watson," I chastised him and he shook his head at me before he moved to the door.

"Just behave!" John called over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs. As soon as the door slammed downstairs and John left us, Sherlock got up and crossed over to the window, staring down at the street, probably watching John leave. He turned around and came back over to the couch, sitting down on it, than swinging his legs upwards so he was sitting upside-down his feet over the back of the cushions.

"Bored!" Sherlock complained loudly as he sunk down on the couch until his head was hitting the floor. I giggled at how childish he looked. John had a point there, for a pair of grownups, we really didn't act our age. "All of the criminals are either in prison, on death row, dead, or are not interesting enough for me to bother with. I need a case!"

"Cheer up Sherlock. I'm sure Lestrade will have a nice, juicy murder for us soon enough," I told Sherlock consolingly as I patted his leg which was really one of his body parts still on the couch. I got up off of the couch and went to the kitchen, flicking the kettle on as I grabbed two cups and made some tea for Sherlock and me. I brought the mugs back into the living room to find Sherlock sitting on his chair with his laptop as he checked his website for any new cases. I put the tea down next to him before retreating to my room. I would get my swords back from John later. Knowing him, he had probably tried to hide them in his room. Not that it would be too hard for me to deduce where he had hidden them.

I pulled a pair of white skinny jeans from my dresser and my grey and bright blue stripped jumper. I retreated to the bathroom after popping my head into the living room to check on Sherlock. He was playing with his phone, probably bugging Lestrade, so I felt it was safe to leave him alone for a few minutes to take a quick shower. I managed to wash around my cast which I was ready to pull off with my teeth at this point. I quickly got dressed and squeezed as much water out of my hair as was possible before I darted across the hall and dumped my clothes and towel into my hamper. I padded back into the living room and Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. I sighed as I maneuverer around the fluff, hoping that Mycroft's cleaning crew would be over before Mrs. Hudson came to check on us. That was one conversation that I would not like to have with our landlady. Mrs. Hudson was a saint, but even her understanding only went so far. My ears perked up when I heard Sherlock talking down stairs and I padded barefoot out to the landing and peeked over the railing to find Sherlock trying to persuade Mrs. Hudson not to come upstairs.

"No, we're all fine Mrs. Hudson," He tried to assure her and I cleared my throat to announce my presence. I grinned down at Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock as I stepped down the stairs to join Sherlock in trying to dissuade Mrs. Hudson from coming upstairs.

"There you are dear. Doesn't she look lovely Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson said as she stepped forward and enveloped me in a hug, not even concerned with my damp hair. I grinned back at Sherlock who was grimacing and stuck my tongue out at him. Since I moved in, Mrs. Hudson had been trying to get Sherlock to compliment me. "I do wish you could get this cast off though,' Mrs. Hudson continued as she pulled back from the hug and took my casted hand in her own.

"You and me both Mrs. Hudson. As Sherlock was saying, we're both fine. John went out for a bit to meet his girlfriend. I wouldn't come upstairs though. We're in the middle of an experiment, might get a bit dangerous," I told Mrs. Hudson as I led her back to her flat, looking over my shoulder at Sherlock and gesturing to him behind Mrs. Hudson's back to go upstairs.

"Oh you dears and your experiments. You two be careful," Mrs. Hudson warned me worriedly and I smiled at her reassuringly as I got her back into her flat.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Sherlock and I stay safe. You just stay down here. I'll come down later," I told the woman who told me that would be lovely before closing the door to her flat telling me I should probably go and check on Sherlock since the flat upstairs had gone quiet. I sighed with relief as the door finally closed before I heard a knock at the front door. "I got it Mrs. Hudson," I called as I hurried to the door and opened it a crack. I was met with the sight of Anthea, texting on her phone faster than humanly possible, and two men behind her in white overalls carrying mops and brooms and a third man with a tool belt around his waist carrying a repair bag. "Hey Anthea," I said with a grin as I opened the door wide and ushered the four of them inside.

"Hi Lexi," Anthea said as she looked up from her phone, the work men filing past her and quietly heading up the stairs. "Mycroft wants me to tell you that he'll be in a meeting for the rest of the day so he requests that you keep the trouble down to a minimum."

I saluted Anthea with a grin. "Will do," I told her before jogging up the stairs to go and check on Sherlock. I found him on the couch in his upside-down position from before as the men cleaned the floor around him. He was in his prayer position and I shook my head at him fondly as I looked around the flat. The repairman was fixing the door frame where we had taken a chunk of wood out and the cleaners had cleared up the destroyed pillows and fluff. Anthea came up the stairs behind me, another man behind her carrying new pillows that looked just like the ones Sherlock had destroyed. He put them on the couch around Sherlock before disappearing back down the stairs wordlessly. The rest of the men finished their work before leaving the flat and clearing off, leaving only the three of us behind.

"I'll be taking all of Mycroft's calls while he's in his meeting," Anthea let me know as she looked up from her phone. "If you need anything call me. Try to keep out of trouble won't you?" She asked me and I grinned at the same time she did. We both knew that wasn't possible. Trouble was my middle name.

"I've already promised John to stay in the flat and not cause trouble. I think you're safe," I promised Anthea as I went and plopped down on the couch beside Sherlock. Anthea shrugged before leaving the two of us, the door closing quietly a few seconds later. I was pretty impressed, unless you had seen the flat this morning, you would have never known what happened in it. I had a feeling that Mycroft always had a clean-up and repair crew on call in the event that he needed to fix a mess Sherlock or I made. "So…," I said as I looked down at Sherlock who opened one of his eyes and stared up at me lazily. His eyes were slightly glazed over and I looked down to his arm to find two nicotine patches on his arm.

"Bored," Sherlock said as he closed his eye again and sighed heavily. I giggled as he sank lower towards the floor and started finger combing my hair as I looked down at him.

"I know love," I told him consolingly as I got up and bounded back to the bathroom I finished getting ready, not sure what I was going to do, but knowing that I had to find something for Sherlock to do before we both started destroying the flat. I dried my hair before pulling my brush roughly through it. I decided to leave it down instead of asking for Sherlock help to put it up before crossing back to my room. I pulled on some thick socks and my TARDIS blue converse. I looked up as I heard my phone buzz from my robe pocket. I crossed over to my bed and got my phone and unlocked it to find I had one new text. I smiled as I read it. I knew what we were doing today and Sherlock was going to love it. I quickly texted back a reply before shoving my mobile in my back pocket and walking back into the living room. I crossed over to Sherlock who hadn't moved and poked him. "Get up and get dressed, we're going out," I told Sherlock who groaned and opened his eyes to look at me.

"Where?" He asked me as he got up from the couch and stared down at me. I looked up at him a grinned just knowing he was going to love this.

"We are going on a little field trip to the morgue," I told him and I watched as Sherlock grinned at me as if Christmas had come early.

"The morgue?" Sherlock called back in confirmation as he walked up and over the coffee table and headed towards his room. I could hear him hurriedly taking a shower and getting dressed as I wanted for Sherlock by the door, pulling on my coat and scarf and grabbing my case bag. I crossed over to Sherlock's desk and picked up Sherlock's ridding crop, putting it into my bag in case he wanted to use it later. Apparently if you mentioned the word morgue you could get Sherlock to move. I would have to remember that. Sherlock came bounding out of his room dressed in his purple button up shirt which looked rather good on him and his typical suit, his curls still slightly damp and tousled as he had obviously towel dried them hurriedly. He pulled on his coat and scarf and hurried out the door.

"Yup, the morgue," I assured him as I followed behind him down the stairs with a fond smile on my face. I called to Mrs. Hudson that we were heading out before stepping out of the flat to join Sherlock who already was waiting for me inside the cab. I slid into the seat that John normally occupied, the need for me to sit next to him not required at the current moment. "Chelsea and Westminster Hospital," I told the cabbie as I shut the door behind me. The cabbie nodded and took off as Sherlock turned to me looking excited and slightly confused.

"Why aren't we going to Bart's?" He asked me with a frown. I giggled at his adorable expression as I pulled out my phone and let my contact at the hospital know that we were on our way over.

"Because, I have an in over at the hospital and my friend set aside a few cadavers for me. Since my hand is, for lack of a better word, useless, I figured you might want to experiment with them. I know John said no experiments in the flat so this gives us something to do," I told Sherlock with a shrug. He had said no experiments in the flat so I was taking Sherlock out of the flat for this experiment. With any luck this would keep Sherlock busy for a few hours at least. I was going to have to thank my friend for setting aside the cadavers for me.

We rode in silence for the rest of the ride over to the hospital and I giggled as I watched Sherlock bounce his leg up and down, bursting with barely contained excitement. Sherlock darted out of the cab as soon as it pulled to a stop in front of the hospital and I laughed as I paid the cabbie who was looking at the both of us oddly. I'm sure he had never seen two people more excited to go to a hospital before. I exited the cab, the cabbie pulling out onto the rode quickly as if he was glad to be rid of us. Sherlock was waiting for me impatiently at the curbing and I walked up to him, hooking my arm with his as I led him into the hospital and down to the morgue. I found my way back to one of the freezer rooms where the lights were on and two bodies were laid out for us. A girl with blond hair with multiple blue strips in it, pulled up into a ponytail, was sitting at a small table in the back of the room, wearing red converse sneakers, black skinny jeans, and a Doctor Who t-shirt which said "Trust me, I'm the Doctor" under her white lab coat. She had head phones on and was rocking out as she sketched something on the paper in front of her. I could hear the Doctor Who theme blaring from her head phones from the doorway. I left Sherlock by the door as I snuck up on the girl and poked her in the shoulder. She jumped in her chair and let out a little shriek before pulling of her head phones and turning to glare at me.

"Oi! No sneaking up on my like a Weeping Angel MacKenna. It's bad enough it was already so quiet down here that I was waiting for the Vashta Nerada to show up," The girl told me indignantly as she stood up and turned off her music before putting her hands on her hips and stared back at me. I giggled and after a second she joined in on my laughter.

"Hey Liz, long time no see," I said as I nudged her with my shoulder, she grinned at me before looking past me at the door where Sherlock was standing, watching us uncomfortably. I grinned back at him encouragingly. Liz was, well, she could be a bit hard to handle when you were first getting to know her but so could I which was why I got along just fine with her.

"Wow, Lex, just… wow. Umm, post-mortem bruising experiments are really more of a third date activity honey," Liz commented as she raised her eyebrow at me and patted my shoulder. "Who's the bloke?" Liz asked me as she eyed Sherlock and then looked back at me questioningly.

"Liz, this is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. Sherlock this is my in here at the hospital Liz," I introduced the two of them as I looked back at Liz and looked at her pointedly.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Liz whispered to me conspiratorially as she took another glance over at Sherlock who was standing with his hands behind his back. He nodded over at us to show that he had heard me and grinned fakely at the two of us. Well, at least he wasn't making deductions about her just yet.

"No," I hissed back at Liz. "He's my flat mate. Behave," I warned her and she put up her hands in surrender.

"What did you do to your hand?" She asked me, changing the subject as she inspected my cast.

"Punched a murderer in the face. All that empowering girl B.S. was involved," I told her nonchalantly and she giggled.

"The left hook, someone pissed you off. I'm guessing your friend in high places helped you out of that one."

"Yeah, that would be Sherlock's brother actually," I told her as I pointed back at Sherlock. Liz snorted at me before crossing over to Sherlock and eyeing him as she stood with a little grin on her face. Liz was shorter than even John was, coming in at 5'1. She reached the middle of Sherlock's chest, but that didn't stop her from staring up at him and studying him. I shook my head and put my face in my hands before peeking through my fingers unable to hide my grin. This was going to be funny to say the least.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor. Your friendly neighbourhood pathologist," Liz told Sherlock before putting her hands on her hips. "So if you're a "consulting" detective, can you do that thing Lex does?" She asked him as she pointed back at me with her thumb and I watched as Sherlock grinned, actually grinned.

"Female, mid-twenties. You're an artist in your spare time. There's paint on your arm that you missed. Your occupation as a pathologist suited you since you know how to be delicate from painting. You're originally from Yorkshire, given your accent. You're confident and have a bit of an attitude, probably because you have three, no four older brothers. You haven't known Lex was it?" Sherlock asked as he looked over Liz's head at me and smirked as he repeated Liz's nickname for me. I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled before continuing. "As I was saying, you haven't known Lex for long, probably met her when she used to still take cases, but you still set aside cadavers for her. You know her well enough given your interaction so you are either friends or at the very least acquaintances. So tell me, did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked Liz as he smiled smugly down at her. Liz just looked up at him before she started to clap her hands in that slow sarcastic manner. I snorted and turned around so Sherlock wouldn't see the grin on my face.

"You…you are good you." Liz told him putting on a New York Mafia accent as I turned back around having finally gotten a control over myself. "You are completely right…," Liz said switching back to her normal accent and Sherlock looked back at me still grinning smugly.

"Of course I'm right," Sherlock told her before Liz grinned up at him and smiled smugly herself.

"…except I've only known Lex for the last year and I have six older brothers, not four. Also, I'm originally from Scotland, but I did live in Yorkshire for a few years," Liz finished in her Scottish accent before bursting out laughing at the look on Sherlock's face.

"There's always something," Sherlock growled as he brushed past Liz and took the cloth over the first body of a man in his mid-thirties.

"Well yeah," Liz said as she and I joined him over in front of the slab. "Male, mid-thirties. Died of an accidental overdose last night," Liz said before she walked over to the next slab and took the sheet off of the next body. "Male, late-seventies. Died of a stroke, again last night," Liz told us before standing back and going to collect her iPod from her desk along with her sketch pad. "Have at them. Don't have too much fun," She told us wiggling her eyebrows at me before waving at us over her shoulder as she left us alone with the corpses.

"So, where do you want to start?" I asked Sherlock as I smiled at him and pulled his riding crop out of my case bag, holding it up. Sherlock took it from me with a childish grin before he crossed over to our first victim of the day and pulled the sheet down the corpse's chest. I grinned back at him as I pushed the guy's leg over and hopped up on the table, swinging my legs as I looked up at Sherlock. He started flogging the corpse with the riding crop as I pulled out my phone. I texted John that we were at Chelsea and Westminster hospital and that whenever he was finished with his date from him to come join us. I watched Sherlock beat the corpse for a while before he finished and took out his magnifying glass to start studying the developing bruises. My phone buzzed in my hand and I unlocked it and read John's text.

* * *

><p><strong>Received 11:32 am<strong>

**From: Watson**

**Where are you?-JW**

* * *

><p><strong>Sent 11:33am<strong>

**From: Lexi MacKenna**

**In the morgue, freezer room.-LM**

* * *

><p>I grinned after reading his text. He was doing the initials at the end of the text thing now too. I added my own to my text before sending it off to John. Then, I hopped off of the table and peeked at the corpse who had some lovely bruises forming on his chest. Sherlock looked like a kid in the candy store. I went and sat at Liz's desk, propping my feet up on the edge. After a few more minutes, the door to the room opened and John peeked in before seeing Sherlock and me and stepping in.<p>

"You're both alright?" John asked us worriedly as Sherlock and I both turned to look at him, me giving him a little wave before I just stared at him in confusion.

"Yeah," I said slowly as I raised one eyebrow at him. "Why wouldn't we be?" I asked him in confusion feeling like I had missed something here.

"You texted me and told me you were in the hospital," John said as if that should have been obvious.

"Yes, and?" I asked him as I took my feet off of the desk and spun around in my chair as Sherlock moved over to the second corpse and pulled the sheet down, looking like he was deciding what he was going to do with that one.

"I thought one of you was hurt…," John said before he looked at Sherlock who was currently climbing on top of the corpse and was wrapping his hands firmly around the guy's throat, strangling him. "What the bloody hell are you doing Sherlock?!" John asked him as Sherlock paused, still strangling the guy to look up at John.

"Experimenting. This is important work John. It's crucial to my work as an investigator," Sherlock explained to him before going back to strangling the corpse. John looked at me with exasperation and I grinned at him just as Liz walked back into the room.

"Oh look, now there's another guy," Liz commented as she walked around John who looked at her as if he wasn't sure what to make of her. "You okay there Sherlock? Looks like you're getting to know Bob here rather well," Liz asked as she stopped beside the corpse he was working on and raised an eyebrow at him as she viewed his work and more importantly his current position.

"Fine," Sherlock told her offhandedly not getting her meaning and Liz shrugged before she walked over to me and sat up on her desk and looked down at me.

"So, who's the new guy?" Liz asked me as she leaned back on her desk and stared John down.

"Liz, Dr. John Watson. John, this is Liz, a friend of mine," I introduced the two of them and Liz grinned across at John cheekily.

'What's up doc?" She asked him and John inhaled loudly before sighing heavily.

"I'm not even going to ask," John told me as he walked the length of the room and leaned against the wall next to me, crossing his arms. I giggled as I got up and patted John on the shoulder before skipping over to Sherlock. I leaned against the table next to Sherlock as Liz sat down in her chair which I had vacated and put her headphones back on, going back to her sketching. "Why are you strangling a corpse?" John asked Sherlock pinching the bridge of his nose. Sherlock jumped off of the table beside me and looked back at John before leaning down to observe the corpse's neck.

"These nameless individuals have donated their bodies for science John. I'm experimenting to see the effects of post-mortem bruising," Sherlock told him as he stepped back from the corpse. I looked at Sherlock and nudged him in the arm.

"Help me role him over so I can try a chock hold," I told Sherlock as I got behind the guy and grinned at Sherlock cheekily. John however made his objection to this idea known.

"No, definitely no. Your hand is still healing," He told me as he stepped forward and lowered the guy back down on the slab. I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes as I walked over to the wall and leaned against it, banging my head against the wall. Why did Sherlock get to have all the fun? Just because my hand was in a cast did not mean I was an invalid. "The pathologist, you said she was a friend of yours, how do you know her?" John asked me, changing the subject.

"We used to frequent the same beekeeping chat room. Liz has an impressive collection of Caucasians," I told John as Liz waved her hand behind her which proved my theory that she was actually listening to us rather than her music. John looked at me with a raised eyebrow before looking back to Liz who was rocking out to her music again.

"Bees, John, they're a species of bee," I explained to him with a laugh as Sherlock circled the corpse, studying the bruising on the both of them.

"Of course it is, how stupid of me," John said sarcastically. I opened one eye at him lazily and sighed again. Part of his annoyance with us was because he had left his date early, a date which hadn't been going well before he left either. I had a feeling that I would win the bet Sherlock and I had.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I just thought you might want to know where we were if you came back to the flat and we were gone," I told John as I pushed off the wall and went to stand beside him. I felt mildly bad for calling him all the way here. At least I had save him from his date so that had to count for a few good karma points.

"I'm fine," John told me and I looked down at his crossed arms and then up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You've had your arms crossed for thirteen of the fifteen minutes that you've been here. It's a classic self-comforting posture, an attempt to neutralize the distress signals being sent by your limbic system. Of course it is possible that your stress is just subconscious and you really do believe your fine. Given that your eyes are doing that thing they do when you lie I seriously doubt that's the case," Sherlock deduced as he walked over to me and we stood next to each other staring back at John.

"You're right, I'm not fine. Since I've moved in you've dissolved fingers in our coffee cups, dissected hearts on our coffee table, and had a bloody sword fight in our living room," John quipped back at us as Liz took her headphones off and stared back at us like we were the most interesting thing on the planet.

"Did they seriously dissolve fingers in a coffee cup and have a sword fight in the living room?" Liz asked John incredulously. John turned to her and pointed back at us.

"Yes," He told her as he looked between us and Liz.

"Nice one," Liz told me with a grin, leaving John spluttering and muttering to himself "Unbelievable." "I got to go get a body. Don't you dare make this place domestic," Liz warned me as she got up and left the three of us alone in the morgue.

"We said sorry for that you know. We got bored," I told John with a little pout on my face that normally won over Mycroft. It didn't seem to have the same effect on John.

"Bored? You got bored?" John asked us and Sherlock rolled his eyes beside me.

"Yes, that thing that occurs when you have nothing to do. My mind is like a racing engine, tearing itself to pieces because it is not connected up with the work for which it was built," Sherlock told John as Liz came back into the room, rolling the body along in front of her.

"You see what I mean? Domestic," Liz said, pointing between the two boys as she rolled the body into place near her desk. "This is my Zen zone. Keep the domestics outside thank you," Liz told us with a snort as she pulled the sheet back on the guy she had wheeled in. He looked to be in his sixties or seventies.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Liz. Anyway, I think we should be going, leave you to your work. Thanks for setting aside the cadavers," I told her as I went over and gave her a one armed hug.

"Yeah, yeah any time mate," Liz told me as I went to collect Sherlock and John and get them out of Liz's hair before she got pissed off at us. She wasn't kidding when she said she didn't want domestics. As much as she loved me, if I disrupted the Zen of her morgue with an argument, she would be after my blood. She might be short, but she made up for her lack of height in attitude. I looked down at her new cadaver as I passed and I couldn't help the deductions that I instantly made or the little error I found when making them.

"Um Liz, when is this body being autopsied?" I asked her as I pointed down to the fresh cadaver. He hadn't been dead long, an hour or two at the most. There was something off, something wrong with him and when something was wrong, I had learnt to poke it with a stick.

"Never. The funeral home is coming to pick him up. He died about an hour ago from a …," Liz told me before I cut her off.

"A heart attack right?" I asked her as John stared back at me in confusion and Sherlock stepped forward to examine the body like I had, his eyes widening as he realized the same thing I had. Glad to see I wasn't the only one to have noticed it.

"Yeah, Miss Freaky Deductions Girl. Want to explain how you know that?" Liz asked me as she raised an eyebrow and looked down at her clipboard, checking the back of it. "Do you have x-ray vision?" She asked me and I snorted and rolled my eyes at her.

"There's a tiny blue dot on the patient's head, just below the hairline," John spoke up as he joined us in front of the cadaver. The three of us turned to him and stared at him. I snuck a peek at Sherlock and we shared a look. He just couldn't resist, just like we couldn't when something was staring at us straight in the face. "It's a tattoo to target radiation treatment, which means the patient had brain cancer. Blood clots are a common complication. He threw a clot which led to a pulmonary embolism, which led to a heart attack," John finished looking proud of himself as I snapped a picture of the dead guy's fingers on my phone having noticed something not right with them.

"Freaky. You live with them and you start talking like them," Liz said as she made the sign of the cross with her fingers and pointed them at John before dropping them when we all looked at her funny. "What? You slightly creep me out," Liz told me as she pointed at me. "That's why I don't mess with you," Liz told me before she looked back at John. "Get out while you still can," She stage whispered to him behind her hand. "I'll distract them while you run. I like you which is why I insist that you run. Why aren't you running?"

"Liz," I chastised her and she giggled before looking back at John.

"I'm only joking. Though you honestly do creep me out a bit," Liz told me as she looked at me pointedly again. "You too," She said as she pointed at Sherlock. "There is a whole lot of not right with the both of you. Brilliant yes, but so totally not right," Liz finished as she gestured to the both of us. I snorted at her and smiled at her antics before turning back to John who had the most adorable expression on his face as if he wasn't sure what to make of Liz. She did have that effect on people.

"Anyway, moving along," I said as I steered the conversation away from whatever that just was. "We're in agreement over the heart attack, but I'm sorry to tell you that as to how it happened, you are completely wrong," I told John as I looked up at Sherlock and grinned. It looked like our days of waiting for something interesting to happen had finally come to an end. We officially had another case.

"What do you mean?" John asked me as he finally turned away from Liz.

"What room was he in when he died?" I asked Liz, ignoring John's question for the time being.

"Umm," Liz said as she looked down at her clipboard. "Room 704," She told me as she looked up at me questioningly. "Please tell me you aren't about to go all detective on my arse," She said and my expression must have been answer enough because she groaned.

"704, perfect, we'll start there," Sherlock said as he turned around and swept out of the room, popping back into the door way to look back at John. "Oh did we mention? This man was murdered," Sherlock told John before looking back at me. "Come along Lexi," He said before disappearing again.

"And I was just asking for a good murder," I told John with a grin as I skipped to the door to follow Sherlock out into the hospital. It looked like this day just got a whole lot more interesting. We finally had another case and what more, this one was made to look like a text book heart attack. That meant the murder had some level of intelligence. Those were always the best ones.

"Well, that escalated quickly," I heard Liz telling John as I left the room before catching up with Sherlock and linking arms with the consulting detective. We looked at each other and grinned conspiratorially. It looked like the criminal classes were finally doing something interesting.


	18. Murder

**(A/N) Hello my lovelies! Hope you liked the last chapter and that you like this one. This was supposed to be uploaded on Wednesday last week, but my friend Liz forgot to upload so you get two chapters today. Give me a bit to get in and my bags unpacked and the next chapter will get posted later. The one shot will be posted tomorrow for all of you. I had an excellent holiday and the place i was staying at had a Sherlock Holmes library. You can guess your author did a lot of writing there. The Blind Banker is looking fantastic. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen- Murder<strong>

"**By the way, Doctor, I shall want your cooperation.'**

**'I shall be delighted.'**

**'You don't mind breaking the law?'**

**'Not in the least.'**

**'Nor running a chance of arrest?'**

**'Not in a good cause.'**

**'Oh, the cause is excellent!'**

**'Then I am your man.'**

**'I was sure that I might rely on you."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, A Scandal in Bohemia**

Sherlock and I took off towards the stairs and started heading up to find the man's room. John trailed after us after a few minutes, his earlier irritation at the two of us seemingly forgotten with the prospect of another case. This is exactly what Sherlock and I had been waiting for and it hadn't come moment too soon. At least we now had a case to occupy our time with and I had a feeling that this one would turn out to be rather interesting. What was more, Sherlock and I seemed to work rather well with each other. I saw what he missed and vice versa he saw what I missed. I never expected to like working with someone, but I liked this companionship I had found in John and Sherlock. If anything, they kept things interesting and I could always annoy Sherlock if I got bored.

"The heart attack was intended to look natural, but was induced with epinephrine," Sherlock told us as we walked down the ward, past the rooms on the seventh floor, as we looked for room 704.

"You've got that backwards, Sherlock. Epinephrine is adrenalin. It's given in all cardiac codes," John corrected him as he strode next to me trying to keep with our long strides. I looked back at John and shook my head.

"Which is exactly why it's perfect John! You're right, it is given in all cardiac codes, so it being present in the patient's system wouldn't raise any red flags," I explained to John before looking up at the consulting detective and smiling at him. "That means the murderer is smart. Don't you love the smart ones?"

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed in agreement. "They're always the first to make a mistake," He told me with a grin as he stepped forward and stopped one of the nurses that was in front of room 704 which we had just found. "The man who died in this room, was there anybody with him when the code thingy went off?" Sherlock demanded the nurse. I couldn't help but grin when he called it the code thingy. He probably hadn't thought that the information was useful enough to learn.

"No," She answered him before Sherlock and I started to head into the room. "Sir, ma'am that room is being cleaned!" The woman tried to protest as Sherlock and I barged into the room, the janitor looking up from where he was mopping the floor. "

"Stop cleaning immediately. Don't touch anything else," Sherlock snapped at the janitor as his eyes swept over the room, categorizing what had been touched and what had been left alone.

"Who are you?" The janitor asked us in confusion and I sighed heavily, starting to lose my patience. I eyed the water jug that was still on the table, having yet to be cleared away and darted forward to grab it. I looked at the janitor pointedly before throwing it past John who was standing in the door way. The jug smashed to the floor in the hall way covering it with ice water and everyone just looked at me as if I was completely mental except for Sherlock.

"You should take care of that before someone slips and falls," I told the janitor who stared back at me with unmasked loathing. He walked past Sherlock and me, dragging his janitor cart along behind him.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked me as he left the room and walked into the hall.

"Way too much to list," I called back over my shoulder as John ran into the room as they guy left.

"How about you explain what's going on here before he lets himself back in," John demanded of us as he spun around, pointing to the door which Sherlock had promptly closed behind the guy as soon as he had left the room. He moved a chair and braced it up under the door handle, barricading us inside of the hospital room.

"Lexi," Sherlock snapped at me and I looked at him with my hands on my hips, not at all going to put up with his attitude. "Could you explain to John here what is going on, I need to think," Sherlock asked me as I continued to fix him with my gaze.

"What do we say Sherlock?" I asked him and his head snapped around to me as he glared in my direction. I cocked my head to the right and continued to watch him, standing my ground here. To be sure, I had no problems explaining what was going on to John. I just wanted Sherlock to be a tad bit nicer.

"Please?" He asked me, sounding if it pained him to say the word. I grinned at him and skipped to his side, patting him on the arm before I turned to John who was staring at the two of us like we were mental.

"See not that hard," I told Sherlock who growled at me before he move to the guy's bin and dumped it out on the bed before he started to go through the rubbish. I shook my head at him before turning back to John with a big grin on my face. "So John," I said as I pulled out my phone and brought up the picture of the guy's fingers I had taken earlier. "Note the mark on the dead man's finger. Care to identify it for us?" I asked him as I bounced on the balls of my feet.

"It's ischemia. Tissue death due to constriction of the vessels in the elbow. Probably caused by the epinephrine going into his arm," John explained before I heard Sherlock snort behind us. "Oh and I guess you have a better idea than that?" John scoffed at him, his temper flaring.

"As a matter of fact, yes. If he only received the epinephrine during the code, after his heart had stopped…," Sherlock said before gesturing to me to finish off the explanation for him.

"It wouldn't have had time to cause the ischemia," I finished for Sherlock with a sigh. I looked back at John who looked completely exasperated with the two of us. He had every right to be too. We hadn't exactly been giving him such an easy time of living with us. Liz was sort of right, post-mortem bruising experiments really was more of a third date activity. Not that I was dating Sherlock or John, but the principle stood that it was just a tad too early to be expecting John to be fine with our experiments and pulling him into cases as much as we wanted to.

"So as far as what's going on John, we're investigating a murder," Sherlock told John, delivering it in that way that only Sherlock could.

"What he said," I told John as I turned around and darted over to look at the medical equipment near the bed to see if it showed any signs of tampering. There were none that I could see from just a glance.

"Sir, ma'am, please open the door," Someone shouted as they knocked on the barricaded door. I turned around with Sherlock and we looked back to the door where a security guard was banging on it. We had a few more minutes before they got in and started contaminating the crime scene further. Best make use of the time we had left.

"We should let them in. We can explain what is going on," John told us as he looked back towards the security guards warily.

"And while we explain, they'll ruin our crime scene. Honestly John, think for once," Sherlock snapped out at John before I walloped him on the back of the head. "What was that for?" He asked me through clenched teeth as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Rude! You will not be rude to my Watson," I chastised him like he was a child with my hand on my hips. Honestly, I would have to work on his attitude problems. If I could get Mycroft to be nice I could get Sherlock to be. His lessons would probably have to be a little more painful though unless he learnt to duck. John cleared his throat uncomfortably and I turned to look at him as he shifted from foot to foot.

"Ah, I'm not your Watson," John told me as he looked between Sherlock and me, unsure of what had just happened I snorted at John and rolled my eyes.

"You are because I say so. Now while we still have time, lend me your medical expertise. The nurse said the victim was alone when he coded, but epinephrine is fast acting. So, how did our killer buy himself time to escape before the onset of heart attack?" I asked John before looking over at Sherlock who was still glaring at me. "Don't look at me like that with your judgy eyes. I was worse with Mycroft, you're lucky. Come on, I know one of you has an idea," I said and Sherlock grumbled to himself again before sighing heavily and stepping forward closer to the bed and towards me. I might be a girl, but I was going to put them in their places.

"If he injected the epinephrine into the IV and then lowered the rate on the infusion pump, he would have had at least ten minutes before the patient coded. This pump is set at 40 cc's an hour but only contains basic maintenance fluid. Water, dextrose…. There's no reason it should be set lower than 100 cc's so someone did turn the pump down. Therefore, we have our method," Sherlock supplied as he looked over the pump beside the bed and made his deductions.

"Exactly," I said as I started pacing back and forth with my hands folded behind my back. "He was clever enough to know that he could inject it through the IV instead of directly to bide him time. That must mean that our murderer has at least a little bit of medical knowledge," I remarked as I looked back at Sherlock who nodded in agreement over my deduction.

"We're coming in!" The guard shouted from outside the door and Sherlock and I rolled our eyes in unison.

"Sherlock, Lexi, they're going to break down the door," John warned us as Sherlock turned back to the bed and gestured for me to take a look at the victim's trash which was dumped all over his bed.

"Yes, well, saves us the bother of opening it," Sherlock told him offhandedly as he showed me the two large coffee cups in the trash, one which had women's lipstick on the rim of the cup. I riffled around until I found a receipt for the coffee. I passed it over to Sherlock who slipped it into his coat, under John's gaze.

"I can live with getting pulled away from my date to come down here to help you two, but I'd rather not get arrested," John told us as we continued to ignore the banging on the door. "Sherlock! Lexi! Are you even listening to me?! Us, getting arrested!" John yelled at us just as the door came bursting open, the security guard finally getting past the chair we had set up under it. They walked into the room looking completely livid as Sherlock and I turned around from the bed. Sherlock and I fixed them with fake, over the top friendly smiles.

"Ah gentlemen, could one of you point us in the direction of the administrator's office?" Sherlock asked them, continuing on with the charming smile. I batted my eyes at the security guard who I could tell was single and had a bit of a thing for redheads if the way he was looking me over was anything to go buy. Charm and flirting could get you out of just about anything. Apparently, barricading yourself in a hospital room was not one of those things.

The three of us were led to a conference room where we were promptly shut inside with security guarding the door as the police were called. John was pacing back and forth, bristling with anger and our apparent indifference to the fact that the three of us could possibly be arrested. Sherlock had adopted his prayer pose and hadn't moved for the forty five minutes we had been waiting together in the room. I had already texted Anthea that I might have a slight problem. I had groaned when I was texted back not by Anthea, but by Mycroft. John was quick to chuckle darkly at seeing my reaction to the text. It appeared that I was going to be getting a lecture from Mycroft later. I had been trying to be nice and at least let him know what was going on so he wouldn't hear about it from someone else later on. I didn't expect his help getting out of anything. I had Lestrade for that after all. I had texted him first, as soon as we had gotten in the room, and let him know that Sherlock and I were possibly going to be arrested for investigating a crime scene. He wasn't happy about it but he had texted me back and told me he would see what he could do about that. He told me to sit tight and try not to cause any more trouble until I heard from him. So, I was sitting on the conference table, Sherlock sitting across from me in a chair against the wall and John pacing in between us. John deserved a medal for lasting this long with the both of us. Part of me was slightly worried that he would end up listening to Donovan and move out, unable to put up with the both of us. I hoped that he would stay though. I knew we hadn't made it easy for him, but wasn't it better for him to know what we were like right away? I was dreading my discussion with Mycroft later. If John was angry at us, Mycroft was going to skin me alive. I hadn't been exactly on my best behaviour lately and I had been causing him a lot of trouble in only a few days. Sherlock wasn't making things easy for him either. Not that Mycroft had control over what I did, but if I wasn't careful, Mycroft and I were going to have it out and I didn't want it to come to that.

An hour after we were detained, Lestrade strode into the room, not looking happy in the least bit. "I don't want to hear excuses. Why is it that I'm getting called down to the hospital because you two barricaded yourself in a hospital room?" He asked as Sherlock jumped to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to look at Lestrade who had his arms crossed and was glaring at us much in the same way as John had been for the last hour.

"While in the morgue this morning, Lexi made an astute discovery that one of the patients recently brought in the morgue had been murdered and did not die of a heart attack. We proceeded up to the patient's room where we locked ourselves inside so as to not have the hospital staff further contaminate our crime scene," Sherlock told him quickly as if this was the most obvious explanation for our actions. Lestrade didn't seem happy with this answer. I grimaced as I decided to take over for him.

"Sherlock is right. We found out a patient had been murdered so we went upstairs to gather evidence before it had all been cleared away," I tried as John refused to look at either of us and was instead staring at the ceiling.

"Fine, so you think a patient had been murdered. Why did it not occur to you to call me first?" Lestrade asked us, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're too slow, if we had waited all of the evidence would have been tampered with. Also, you would have brought Anderson in for forensics," Sherlock snapped t him, turning his back on Lestrade as he went to stare out the window, out across the city.

"What Sherlock is trying to say is that there wouldn't have been enough time for you to come down here before they finished cleaning up his room. We would have lost all of the evidence if we waited for you to get here first," I told Lestrade trying to appease him. He sighed heavily and pointed between Sherlock and me.

"You're lucky I was able to come down. Now I'm going to go in there and try to save your hides from getting charged," Lestrade told us before he left us in the silence again. I turned to John who was still looking anywhere but at us. It wouldn't do good to have John against us and I knew that Sherlock wasn't going to be the one to fix things with him. That left it up to me and I was not against guilt tripping him. It was a good thing I had shaky morals and was not against using guilt to get my way.

"John," I said softly as I walked up to the shorter man who seemed to still be fuming. His head snapped down to me and I could still see the anger in his gaze as he locked eyes with me. "John, we're sorry about all this. Truly," I began as I stood next to him and nudged him in his good shoulder with my own. "I know Sherlock and I have been driving you mental the last week, but we honestly mean well. We aren't the easiest people to live with, but we really do enjoy having you in the flat," I told him and he sighed heavily, the anger melting off of his face as he brought his hand up and brought it tiredly down his face.

"I know Lexi. I get it, you're detectives and you like to experiment, but dissolving fingers in acid in our coffee cups and dissecting hearts on our coffee table needs to stop. And what were you thinking with sword fighting in the living room? One of you could have gotten hurt. You've already gotten yourself hurt," John pointed out as we both looked down at my cast. I sighed heavily knowing he had a good point. "Look, I like living with you and Sherlock too, but we need to set up some boundaries," John told me and I nodded in agreement. That could work, boundaries could work if it meant John would stay with us.

Neither Sherlock nor I really wanted to lose him which was why we had been trying to be good for those two days. We had already had a discussion about making sure John stayed with us. I wasn't sure how it had happened but I seemed to be friends with Sherlock Holmes. It was the only way I could describe our new relationship. At first, we had a sort of companionship, an understanding of each other. It was hard to deny the fact that we really were a lot alike. I understood when Sherlock needed quiet and vice versa he seemed to realize when I needed complete silence. In the last week, we had argued a lot, mostly over childish things, but there were also a few moments like when he had me help him with his experiments that we had gotten along. I wasn't sure if we were really friends, but we weren't enemies. He seemed to hold me to the same standards as John and he had asked for my opinion on things over the week, especially on my considerations of deductive reasoning that he was putting up on his website. I was surprised to learn that he had actually listened to my comments and summarized them on his website. I wasn't sure how long this companionship would last, but I was going to enjoy every minute of it. We had gotten to the point where we were willing to work together instead of fighting against each other to prove who was smartest. Part of me believed that Sherlock had realized that our relationship annoyed Mycroft to no end. Well, I wasn't going to let either of them get out of this easily. They were stuck with me until the end of time. I wasn't kidding when I called him my Watson. I found myself rather attached to the consulting detective and the army doctor. They were officially my Baker Street boys.

"Boundaries could work, we can do boundaries. Right Sherlock?" I asked, turning to the consulting detective who was still staring out the window, deep in thought. He replied with a noncommittal grunt which I took for a yes. "See that works for us. We'll try John, honestly. Friends again?" I asked him hopefully and I watched as he frowned at me in confusion. "Wait hang on. Not good?" I asked him in confusion as I pouted. Had I done something wrong? Normally you were supposed to apologize when you upset someone right? I wasn't good at this whole socializing thing. I really didn't have friends growing up, one of the reasons was because no one wanted to hang out with the freak and the other reason was because I just didn't understand people. I didn't understand why I had to apologize for something I wasn't sorry about or thank someone for a gift I really didn't like. I just…I didn't understand people. Especially those who said one thing but did another. I trusted Mycroft because he was always honest with me. There were a few times when I knew he hadn't told me the whole truth, but he had only done it to me a few times and I knew he was only doing it because he was trying to protect me. From what I didn't know, but I didn't decided to press him on it. I trusted him to tell me the truth when it was something I needed to know. I understood Mycroft. He was straight forward and easy enough to understand. Sherlock was the same way. I couldn't deduce them, but I could predict their reactions. **(A/N Lexi's inability to understand people stems from her childhood. She was never really shown how to understand people and was alone most of them time as a child. Therefore, she understand Sherlock and Mycroft because they are like her but struggles to understand other people like Sherlock does.)**

"Of course we're still friends. Why would you think we weren't?" John asked me in confusion. I frowned at him further, my eyebrows scrunching together. I thought he was angry with us.

"Normally people don't want to be my friend when they realize what I'm really like," I admitted to John shyly as I looked away from him and towards Sherlock who had turned to look at me. He had that same look on his face, the one that said he understood this more than I would ever know. We were both social outcast, freaks to everyone else just because we were different.

"Lexi," John started before he surprised me as he pulled me into a hug. I blinked in surprise over at Sherlock over the top of John's shoulder before returning his embrace. "God Lexi, I'm not like that okay," John told me sounding genuine and as I pulled back from our embrace I saw the truth in his eyes.

"Thank you John," I whispered to him as I gave him another tight squeeze before breaking out hug completely as Lestrade came to collect us. He led us into another conference room, the security guards we past eying us with distain. I stuck my tongue out at them. Seriously, we had probably done the most interesting thing they were going to see all day. In reality, they should be thanking us for making their day slightly more interesting.

"Sherlock, Lexi, John this is Mr. James," Lestrade introduced us to the short, bald man in an expensive suit who did not look happy at all. I could see this disapproval radiating off of him as soon as his eyes landed on the three of us. Beside him was a tall man in green scrubs, obviously a doctor. I deduced he wasn't too fond of this Mr. James.

"The administrator correct?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow as I looked the short man over. Sherlock stayed silent with his hands behind his back look bored. I knew that he actually was at this point which was why I was attempting to hurry this along for him before things got worse.

"A.K.A the man who's still not convinced he shouldn't press charges against the three of you for barricading yourselves into one of our rooms," The bald man said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared the three of us down. I caught John's eye and put a hand on his arm to let him know that everything would be alright. If I had to I could grovel for Mycroft's help. He would rather lecture me than let me go to prison anyway.

"And what's your role here, do you reach things off of high shelves for this one?" Sherlock asked the doctor in all seriousness. John, Lestrade, and I were forced to hide our smiles and Lestrade coughed loudly as the administrator glared back at Sherlock murderously for the slight against his height. The doctor however smirked back at Sherlock, which proved that he really didn't like Mr. James.

"I'm Dr. Green. I'm the head of surgery," The Dr. answered Sherlock who sighed heavily having already deduced this fact.

"And you were treating the dead man were you?" Sherlock asked him continuing in his typical Sherlock manner that always sounded snappish and biting. I shrugged when John looked at me worriedly than back at Sherlock. I was going to let Sherlock handle this one. He was fine on his own. I didn't think he would purposefully say something that would get us arrested. He knew we would have to ask for Mycroft's help getting out in that case and he was too proud to ask for Mycroft's help.

"No, but seeing as he was pre-surgical, it does fall under my departmental purview," The Dr. told the three of us and I nodded as Sherlock and I looked down at each other. Lestrade took this moment to step in and lay down the law.

"Alright you three, this is how things are going to shake out here. Once you apologize to Mr. James…," Lestrade began before Sherlock cut him off in irritation.

"Apologize?" He bit out rolling his eyes at Greg. "We alerted him to a murder in his hospital."

"As I was saying, once you've apologized to Mr. James he'll release the body to our ME and allow forensics full access to the room," Lestrade continued as if Sherlock had never interrupted him in the first place.

"And that's it?" Sherlock bit out still sounding aggravated. I put my hand on his arm and looked at him pointedly when he looked down at me, raising one of my eyebrows. We had a silent conversation that took place by us deducing what the other was thinking.

'_Be nice, it gets us out of having to call Mycroft,_' I told him with a pointed look.

'_I don't want to apologize to them. There idiots if they couldn't figure out someone had been murdered in their own hospital,'_ Sherlock said back with a grumpy frown.

'_I know, but I would rather not get arrested twice in one week and John is already not completely happy with us. If we apologize we can get out of here and start working on the case,'_ I told him with a flick of my eyes towards John and then towards the administrator.

'_Do I have to?'_ He all but whined back as he furrowed his eyebrows.

I sighed and rolled my eyes fondly at the childish detective. _'Yes, you do. I don't like it either. If you apologize, I'll get John off your back about eating for the duration of the case,'_ I offered up as incentive for him to play nicely with the other children as I cocked my head to the right and grinned at him encouragingly.

'_Fine,'_ He shot back as he rolled his eyes at me. We looked back at the others in the room who were watching us oddly. Our conversation had taken place in a matter of seconds. It was easy enough to read facial cues and understand what someone was thinking even without them actually saying it. Hmm might come in handy in the future. **(A/N Yes Lexi, yes it will.)**

"Um what was that that you two were just doing?" John asked me slowly and I grinned at him as I took my arm off of Sherlock's elbow.

"Nothing John," I told him before looking back at the administrator who was eying us oddly. Okay so we weren't normal, who cares.

"You should count yourselves lucky that you're getting that much," The administrator told us, still eying us. I rolled my eyes at Sherlock. Who was giving me the, _'See, you can't even stand them,'_ look. I snorted at him and just shook my head. At this point I didn't care what he did. I had at least tried. Sue me if it didn't work.

"We need the dead man's name, access to his medical records…," Sherlock snapped before the administrator cut him off.

"That would be a flagrant violation of HIPPA guidelines not to mention the patient's privacy," The shot back angrily and I threw my hands up in the air completely losing my patience with the man. I wanted it duly noted that I had really held out on this one and tried to take the high road. I just couldn't stand stupid people.

"Seriously?! He's dead. Do you really think he's worried about his privacy?" I asked him incredulously and I saw Sherlock smirk out of the corner of my eye. I keep a straight face even though my own smile was threatening to break through.

"Lexi," Lestrade chastised me. "Now you two are going to apologize to Mr. James and I don't want to hear a word out of either of you," Lestrade told us using his cop voice.

"But Lestrade," I tried and he cut me off before I could even get started. Smart man.

"No if, ands, or buts," He told me before turning to Sherlock. "Now both of you," He told us threateningly. I looked back at Sherlock and we both took a deep breath before sighing loudly. We turned towards the administrator and put on falsely cheerful smiles.

"We apologize for alerting you to a murder in your own hospital that your staff was to incompetent to identify," We said in unison without deviating from a single word.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" Lestrade scolded us and Sherlock growled under his breath at having been told off. John looked rather amused with the two of us rather than angry at this point. I was quiet sure that we were forgiven now, at least by John.

"Fine," Sherlock snapped at him before turning back to the administrator without even the traces of a smile on his face. "I apologize," He snapped out keeping it short and sweet.

"What he said," I said, pointing to Sherlock as I looked back at the administrator who harrumphed before telling Lestrade that we were done there. I sighed in relief as we were finally allowed to leave nearly two hours later. I got a text from Mycroft telling me I would be hearing from him later when he got out of his meeting. Great, I was going to be tortured later too. Lestrade had already lectured us about how we couldn't just barricade ourselves into room and take it upon ourselves to solve cases like this. I of course pointed out that he would have never known about the murder if not for Sherlock and I finding it out in the first place. Lestrade was at a loss for words about that and told us just to remember it in the future and that he would call us later and send us over whatever he got to the flat.

The three of us were therefore walking out of the hospital a while later, Sherlock's hands in his pockets, his shoulders tense in his irritation over what we had been made to do. He claimed that the hospital staff was all incompetent and that they should be thanking us for finding that they had a murderer stalking their halls rather than harassing us. I walked behind him with John, giving him some space to fume. It looked like he was going to be in one of his moods for the remainder of the day. I had learnt within my first few days at Baker Street that Sherlock Holmes did not like being told what to do.

"I can't believe I had to apologize to that pencil pusher!" Sherlock fumed while John and I made sounds of agreement behind him, looking at each other and sharing a grin as Sherlock stalked in front of us.

"Would you have preferred that he pressed charges?" John asked him and Sherlock whipped around and looked at him for a moment before turning back and resuming his heated walk. John smirked at me as Sherlock hurried up, heading for the rode where Sherlock was trying to hail a cab. "Where's the fire?" John asked Sherlock as he managed to flag down a cab.

"We need to find that woman!" Sherlock huffed grumpily as he opened the cab and slid into the back of it. I grinned back at John before sliding in next to the sulking detective. He could be so adorable when he got into these moods. Mycroft was cute when he pouted too.

"What woman?" John asked Sherlock in confusion as Sherlock gave the name of a coffee shop to the cabbie.

"The woman who brought him coffee just before he died. There were two coffee cups in the victim's rubbish bin. One of them had lipstick on the lid. It was an elementary deduction John," Sherlock told him as he pulled his coat tightly around him and looked out of his window.

"And you think this woman killed him?" John asked Sherlock exasperatedly.

"It is possible John. She would have been one of the last people to see him alive. Definitely a good place to start, and the only place we have to start from right now" I explained to John as I leaned my head against Sherlock's shoulder. He looked down at me and I grinned back up at him, batting my eyelashes before he shook me off. I grinned as John shook his head at me, probably wondering why I even bothered with him. I bothered because I cared. It was the way I had started off with Mycroft.

"At the very least she might be able to tell us his name!" Sherlock spat angrily as he turned up the collar of his jacket and shied away from me. I snorted at him before getting comfortable next to John, who didn't seem to mind the close contact too much anymore like he had on that first case. Sherlock was being a regular drama queen because he hadn't gotten his way back at the hospital. He was like a child throwing a tantrum. I hadn't liked apologizing either, but I could swallow my pride long enough to do so if it meant that I wasn't going to get arrested. Mycroft really deserved his cake about now.

"But we don't know anything about her," John told Sherlock as he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow as I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. In my defense, I was tired. Sherlock had woken me up way to early with his little experiment. Not that it hadn't been fun. John telling us off for having a sword fight in the middle of the living room had been humorous and so far, the highlight of my day.

"No, but Dave might," Sherlock told him as I practiced my breathing in and out. Calming breaths.

"Dave?" John asked Sherlock as I started to feel my eyelids droop.

"Barista at a place called Think Coffee in Central London," Sherlock told John as I lazily opened one eye and watched as he pulled out the receipt we had found earlier and showed it to John. "The barista, Dave, put his name and number on the back of it. The number's smudged so we can't call him so we'll just have to find him at work. He obviously is single and desperate to go out with a woman which means you'll be the one talking to him," Sherlock continued as his eyes landed on me. I saluted him with a sleepy smile on my face.

"Oui mon capitaine," I told him, saluting him with two fingers which caused John to giggle under me and Sherlock to roll his eyes at me in irritation.

"How do you even know that Dave was a barista and not a costumer?" John asked Sherlock. I sat up right and took the receipt from Sherlock, showing it to John again with a grin on my face, my tiredness momentarily forgotten. Sleep could come later, right now I had to educate Watson. I liked being able to teach him. I knew how much I hated when I felt confused and I was sure that John was no different.

"The receipt says she was charged for two small coffees, but she was given two large. That means Dave was flirting with her," I told John before handing the receipt back to Sherlock who stowed it away in his pocket as I put my head down on John's shoulder again. Whoever our mystery girl was, she was the only things we had to go off of right now. This case would prove to be challenging due to the complete lack of evidence. I had a feeling that either the case or Sherlock might end up trying my patience in the the near future. I was easy going most of the time, but there was only so much I could handle from either of the Holmes boys.

"You two really are brilliant," John complimented us and I heard Sherlock chuckle as I let out a little giggle. If John kept complimenting us, I wasn't sure if Sherlock's head would be able to fit through the door way of the flat. He had a bigger ego than I did. I had been told I was good before, but I always let the compliments go seemingly unnoticed. Maybe today I wouldn't, maybe, just this once, I would accept the compliment.

"Thank you John," I told the army doctor as the cab brought us to our destination. We were a ragtag group, two detectives and their doctor, all with some sort of personal darkness looming over us. Sherlock had his past with drugs, John was a solider who missed the war, and my past was more complicated than I cared to admit, but right now, I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. For once, I actually felt like I belonged.


	19. The Angel of Death

**(A/N) Second chapter for you all today to make up for the one that wasn't posted midweek. I'll see you again here next Sunday. I have to write this week now that I am back from holiday. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen- The Angel of Death<strong>

"**It's a wicked world, and when a clever man turns his brain to crime it is the worst of all." ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes**

The cab dropped off us off at our final destination and I got out of the cab grumpily as Sherlock paid the cabbie, not happy that I had to give up my pillow that was John's shoulder. He laughed at my pout as I stood on the curb waiting for the two of them before they joined me and we walked into the crowed coffee shop together. We waited in line to speak with Dave who was serving coffees behind the counter. Sherlock was impatient and keep sighing loudly every few seconds as John crossed his arms beside me and keep glaring at Sherlock whenever he did so. I pouted to myself, ready to go back to Baker Street and take a nap on the couch while Sherlock sorted through the evidence we had so far. I might love solving cases, but I always loved my sleep whenever I could get it. It didn't look like I was going to get my wish anytime soon though.

"Tall, half skinny, half 2 percent, extra hot, split quad-shot latte with whip," Dave called out an order as we waited towards the back of the line.

"The Magna Carta was less complicated than these coffee orders," Sherlock whined beside me, losing his patience.

"I know Lock. I promise, we'll get out of here soon," I promised the detective as John ginned back at me. "I could kill for a coffee though," I muttered as we walked up in the line. We were so close and yet still slightly too far. Was this going to take all day? Blimey. We waited about another ten minutes before we finally made it to the front of this time. John was ready to kill Sherlock and Sherlock was ready to kill everyone else. I was just too tired to care at this point, the nights of very little sleep were catching up with me.

"What can I do for you mates?" Dave asked us as he got ready to take our coffee order.

"Can you tell us who came in this morning and got this coffee order?" I asked the man, batting my eyelashes at him flirtatiously as Sherlock slipped me the receipt and I showed it to Dave.

"Sure," Dave as he called for one of the other girls to take his place as he stepped out behind the counter and met us beside the counter. "I give out my number a lot. Have to be in it to win it. I'm sure you understand," Dave said flirtatiously as he acted like the boys knew what he was talking about. John might, but I was sure Sherlock didn't. He just didn't date and neither did I. "Speaking of which can I offer you a coffee? On the house of course," Dave told me and I smiled back at him widely.

"That would be lovely thank you, think chocolate. Oh and can I get a black coffee with two sugars and one with just milk for my friends?" I asked Dave, fluttering my eyelashes as I smiled widely at him, changing my whole demeanour so my posture read available.

"Anything you'd like sweetheart," Dave told me before rushing off to get out drinks. Sherlock and John eyed me as I frowned and returned to my bad mood induced by lack of sleep from before.

"What?" I asked them innocently and Sherlock smirked at me as John shook his head.

"You are absolute proof that women use their charm to get whatever they want," John answered me and I snorted and rolled my eyes at him. I had hardly gotten everything I wanted. A piece of crumble would have been nice too, but I would settle for coffee. I couldn't get everything I wanted, especially from Mycroft. He was immune to my feminine powers of bamboozling as he called them.

"Oh hush up," I grumbled irritably as Dave came back over with our coffees. I immediately perked up as he came back over, smiling like I was happy to see him again. "Oh that was fast, you must be really good at your job," I gushed as I took my coffee from him and he thrust the other coffees at John and Sherlock. I mentally rolled my eyes at his testosterone fuelled display of manliness.

"Well you know, got to be the best at everything you do. That's a double chocolate chip Frappuccino with half to percent and half skim with extra whipped crème," Dave told me with a little cheeky grin as I took a sip of my drink, staring up at him the entire time I did so. I might not date, but I knew how to use charm to get what I wanted. It worked out when you needed to weasel your way into places, like top secret government parties. "So what can I do for a lovely lady like yourself?" Dave asked me and I giggled girlishly, inwardly cringing. I was never doing this again even is Sherlock got down on his knees and begged me too which I doubted would ever happen.

"A girl this morning came in about 8:35 and ordered two coffees. She was wearing deep red lipstick. I'm kind of trying to find her for my boss. Police investigation you know," I said acting nonchalant. Dropping the word police into any conversation worked wonders.

"Oh yeah, I remember her. She was blonde. Cleavage, tight white skirt, heels. And her perfume. How often do you meet a sexy doctor? Or a cop for that matter?" He asked me smiling cheekily again. I smacked him on the arm playfully, not even bothering to correct him.

"You flirt you. How did you know she was a doctor?" I asked him as I looked at Sherlock who was smirking, looking like he was enjoying himself. John also looked rather smug seeing my inner battle as I tried not to punch the creep.

"She was wearing a white lab coat under her jacket," Dave told me and I nodded before dropping the fake niceness. Dave seemed to notice me change in demeanour because he frowned and started to look confused.

"Hmm was she now. Lovely. Sherlock, John, come on. We're leaving," I said as I turned on my heel and headed towards the door of the coffee shop.

"Hey, don't I at least get your number?" Dave called after me as I slid out onto the pavement outside followed by Sherlock who was chuckling and John who was also sharing in a laugh at my expense.

"Not even in your dreams!" I shot back as I started stomping off down the street, sipping at my coffee. Dave might be a colossal jerk, but his coffee was amazing. Sherlock and John walked along side me still smirking and I took the time to reach over and smack the both of them in the back of the head. "Wipe that smile off your faces!" I told them before hailing down a cab. Sherlock and John rubbed the back of their heads, sharing a look as I fumed. "I am never doing that again!" I warned Sherlock as I poked him right in the chest. He slapped my hand away as a cab pulled up to the curbing. I threw the door open as soon as the cab came to a stop and slid into the back seat just as I heard John mutter to Sherlock that he was not sitting next to me. A second later, John was sliding into the seat next to me having apparently lost that battle.

"Where are we going?" John asked me as I gave an address to the cabbie. I turned to look at both men who I was still not completely happy with.

"Ms. Cleavage was not a doctor. No doctor would wear her lab coat out of the hospital, nor would she wear revealing clothing or heavy perfume that could trigger a patient's asthma attack or chemical sensitivity. The lab coat is what gave it away. Revealing attire, heavy perfume, lab coat. She probably works in a perfume shop in Central London, somewhere near this coffee shop. There is one store I know of in Central London that sells perfume. It is one of two stores that has its employees wear lab coats. We have a fifty- fifty chance that I am right," I explained to the both of them before sitting back in my seat and resorting to silence for the rest of the cab ride. We pulled up at the perfume shop a few minutes later and I was the first one out of the cab, leaving the boys to pay the cabbie since they had pissed me off. It wasn't funny for them to just stand there and laugh. I had taken a bullet for them. Not an actually bullet, but we probably weren't going to get anywhere with Dave if I hadn't done what I did. They owed me big time. I felt dirty now. I shuddered as the boys got out of the cab and joined me in walking into the shop. My anger dissolved as soon as we walked inside the store. All women employees. I grinned evilly to myself which was not unnoticed by John and Sherlock. They could take this one. It didn't take us long to look around the store and spot our mystery coffee woman. The three of us approached her and she looked a little anxious as she spotted us walking up to her.

"Hello, I'm Detective Inspector MacKenna," I greeted to woman as I flashed her my fake badge I had nicked the last time I had been at the Yard. "This is Detective Inspector Holmes," I continued as Sherlock flashed her his own fake I.D. "And our partner Sargent Watson," I said as John flashed her an I.D. I had passed to him as we walked up to the blonde. "We would like to ask you a few questions as part of an ongoing investigation," I told her seriously, using my professional voice that I used around clients and when I had to do some acting.

"Oh, yeah, sure of course, what is this about" The blond stammered, her voice already getting on my nerves. It was that quiet kind of voice that always sounded whinny when the person spoke. It seemed to be irritating Sherlock too because he lost whatever patience he had.

"Let's start with you name. Then you can tell us why you bought two coffees and brought them to a man in the hospital this morning. Who was he? Why did you bring him a coffee? What is your connection to him?" Sherlock demanded of the girl who flinched and looked at Sherlock timidly.

"Take your time," John said realizing the girl's discomfort. "Why don't you start with the first question? What's your name? The man's name?" John asked her as he pulled a notebook and a pen out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened them looking as professional as someone could in a jumper and jeans. So, we didn't exactly look like the police, but people were too stupid to notice that. Show them a badge, even if for only a second and not allowing them to actually see it and you could fool anyone. That's why I was able to fool a guy into thinking I was the French ambassador's daughter.

"Jacqueline, I'm Jacqueline and the man is Trent Kelty," The girl told us as she wrung her hands. Anxiety disorder of some description. She wears revealing clothing, but she actually doesn't like the attention. It's why she got rid of Dave's number as soon as possible. She probably wore revealing clothes as it meant more sales at work. She would rather be wearing a jumper and sweatpants right now. Like me, I thought with a sigh,

"And what was your connection to Mr. Kelty?" I asked the girl, trying for the nice approach like John. It was the only way we were going to get anything out of here that was remotely helpful.

"I am his neighbour. Has something happened to him?" She asked us worriedly, biting her lip, another common sign of anxiety.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that he died this morning of a heart attack. It is suspected that he was murdered," I told the girl who gasped in shock.

"I can't believe he's dead! And you said he was murdered?" She asked me sounding genuinely surprised. I nodded at her and she shook her head sadly. "A few months ago, he told me he was having troubles seeing. He just thought he needed new glasses. Then they found the tumour. After he lost his eyesight completely, I started visiting him more. I would read him the sports section of _The Telegraph_."

"Were you two close?" John asked her as he made it look like he was writing down notes about our conversation.

"Um, not really, no. I honestly just felt really bad for him. He didn't have any family or friends. It seemed like the right thing to do," The girl told us sincerely and I could see that she really was just a good person who went to visit a sick man in the hospital.

"What time did you leave the hospital this morning?" Sherlock asked her and she jumped when he spoke again, already nervous of him it seemed. Sherlock seemed to not even notice her nervousness and just fixed her with his piercing gaze. I nudged him in the ribs before smiling encouragingly back at the girl.

"Um… a little after 9:30. Why?" She stammered uncomfortably.

"Did anyone see you leave? Perhaps someone from the nurse's station?" John asked her and she quickly shook her head.

"I don't…I don't know," She stammered before taking a deep breath. "I can get you my Oyster card thought if that would help. It would tell you when I got on the tube after I left," She offered and I told her that would be nice and she scampered away to get it for us.

"Jeesh, you nearly scared her to death Lock," I chastised the man as I rolled my eyes at him and grinned slightly, unable to stop myself. He just had a way with people.

"Hmm did I? I didn't notice," Sherlock remarked and I could tell that he really hadn't. I giggled and patted his arm. He looked down at the gesture and sighed heavily, apparently just starting to get used to the fact that I was a touchy feely sort of person. If Mycroft had to learn, so did Sherlock. Speaking of Mycroft, the silence I was getting from him was worse than the yelling would be later. Except, Mycroft never yelled. He just used that tone of voice that meant he was disappointed in me for not trying harder. I did care about what he thought. He had helped me more than I wanted to admit.

"Try smiling, it makes you look less imposing," I told him just as the girl returned and handed me her Oyster card. I noted that she had caught the tube around 9:53. So, not our killer. "Can you think of anyone that might have wanted to harm Mr. Kelty? Business partner, lover maybe?" I asked her and she shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry. He really did have no one. The only other person he used to talk to beside me was this doctor that used to come by at night," She told us as Sherlock smiled at her, trying out my advice. I caught his eye and shook my head. It actually looked creepier when he tried to smile like that, like psychopathic killer creepy.

"Sorry, did you say his doctor visited him at night?" John asked her, raising his eyebrow during the process.

"Not his oncologist. Just some doctor at the hospital. They used to talk about his cancer. How to manage his pain. It seemed like he was trying to help Trent cope with what was coming."

"His cancer was terminal?" Sherlock asked her, still sounding like Sherlock, albeit slightly nicer. That didn't stop the girl from stammering as she answered him again. The Holmes' boys just seemed to have that effect on people through really no fault of their own.

"He only had a few months to live. You didn't… you didn't know that?" She asked us as she wrung her hands together again.

"You didn't happen to cut his food up for him this morning before you left did you?" I asked her, remembering that I had seen his food cut up into child sized bites when I went to grab his water jug that morning.

"Uh, the pancake? Umm, no, that was like that when I got there. Why?" She asked me looking confused.

"Just curious. Thank you for your time, you've been a big help," I told her before looking between Sherlock and John. "We should get back down to the Yard and review the case," I said giving the both of them a pointed look which meant we should head back to Baker Street and see if Lestrade had sent us over anything yet.

"Hmm yes," John said as Sherlock nodded beside me. "Have a good day," John told the girl with a girl as the three of us turned around and started walking out of the shop.

"Umm thanks, I guess," I heard the girl say behind us before we walked outside. I took the girl's Oyster card out of my pocket and showed it to the boys. "I would palace Mr. Kelty's death somewhere around 10:30. She caught the tube around 9:53 so she's not our killer. It would have been too early for the epinephrine to have been administered," I told them as I handed Sherlock her Oyster card to put with the evidence later on.

"Whoever cut up Trent Kelty's breakfast came back after Jacqueline left and killed him," Sherlock said as we walked down the road a ways and Sherlock hailed us a cab. We wouldn't be heading back to Baker Street now. We had something more important to do first. I took another swig of my coffee glad that I had at least something to keep me going for the next few hours. I was starting to understand that working cases with Sherlock meant no down time until the case was solved. That included hardly any time to eat or sleep. "We may have a much bigger probable on our hands that just this morning's homicide," Sherlock told me as he flagged down a cab and the three of us got into the back seat. Sherlock told the cabbie to take us back to the hospital from that morning.

"Because someone cut up the guys pancakes?" John scoffed at him and he looked at me in exasperation when I nodded in agreement. "Oh come on! Someone cut up the guy's pancakes, that's hardly criminal activity," John said as he looked between the two of us.

"Depends on the way you look at it. You know how Sherlock and I dislike proposing a theory in its formative stages before we are confident of its conclusions," I told John with a shrug as I chugged down more of my coffee. I took out my phone and glanced at it, grimacing when I saw that I hadn't gotten any text messages. This was not going to be pretty.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked me with a raised eyebrow as he eyed my activity.

"Umm, might be. I don't know. Mycroft isn't happy with me and I am probably going to get chewed out by your brother later," I told him and Sherlock shrugged before he looked out the window of the cab.

"Mycroft is never happy with anyone," Sherlock told me and I sighed knowing he wasn't completely right. Mycroft could be nice when he wanted to be except for when I was pissing him off.

"You know I still can't get over the fact that you knew Sherlock's brother before you met Sherlock," John said suddenly and the both of us turned to look at him. I sighed at the same time that Sherlock shrugged again.

"It's a small world. Doesn't surprise me though. I think Sherlock and I would have met eventually if not for Mike introducing us. Whether Mycroft wanted us to meet or not, sooner or later, our meeting would have been inevitable. As for my meeting with Mycroft, it was again inevitable given my line of work," I told John with a shrug. I really did believe that would have ended up meeting Sherlock at some point even if it hadn't been now. Mycroft might have been trying to keep us apart, but it was a little hard to keep us from crossing paths when we both knew the same people and he watched us twenty-four seven. Sherlock would have realized that he wasn't the only person Mycroft spied on sooner rather than later.

"Mycroft tends to keep an eye on anyone he deems an asset or a threat to the crown," Sherlock explained after seeing John's confused expression.

"Which were you?" John asked me joking slightly, but I could tell that he really was interested to know what Mycroft considered me at first.

"A threat, at first. I did sneak into a top secret government party and wasn't noticed that I didn't belong there for nearly four hours. Mycroft escorted me out and then set surveillance on me. He classified me as an asset later on, but I think that definition wavers some days," I told John with a grin. Mycroft called my unpredictable. I wasn't really unpredictable per say. I just didn't do the obvious thing. It was one reason why I had stayed alive so long while taking dangerous cases and capturing murderers alone.

"Alright. By the way, nice acting skills Detective Inspector," John said with a cute little grin.

"Thank you. It's a valuable asset in our line of work. You would be surprised the things you can get people to tell you. Now stop beating around the bush. You really want to ask us what we meant by having bigger problems on our hands," I said looking at John pointedly as I leaned in closer to him.

"Yeah," John admitted with a little shrug.

"We know that Trent Kelty's killer had some degree of medical expertise, evident by the killer's knowledge of how to delay the epinephrine long enough so he could make his escape. We also know that Kelty was visited almost exclusively by a man claiming to be a doctor, a man who cut an adult's food into child sized bites," Sherlock said making a quirky expression as he told us the last part.

"Alright, why would a killer do that?" John asked us as he tried to comprehend what we meant.

"It reflects a particular mind set John," I told him as Sherlock nodded in agreement with my observation.

"That of an individual who tended to Trent's needs not out of empathy, but out of a craving for his dependence. And that mind-set, in turn, reflects a particular type of killer, one who chooses victims that are sick or weak, one whose victims he believes are doomed to die. A man who would be drawn to someone with only a few months to live. Someone who's preferred hunting ground would be a hospital, teeming full of sick and dying patients, providing an endless supply of victims. It's really rather brilliant. Sick patient dies and no one even blinks and eye. They were all going to die anyway, what's one more patient dead? And no one even realizes its murder. Save for us of course," Sherlock explained and John gave him an odd look as he started to sound a little more morbid.

"Time to put our other personalities in the cupboard honey. Getting a little too into the murder there," I told him, patting him on the shoulder. I had to remind myself of this every so often as well.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked the two of us and John shook his head while I put my head on his shoulder.

"A bit not good, yeah," John told him and Sherlock shrugged which pushed my head into him so that his curls were tickling my ear. I cringed away from him which was something he looked slightly happy for. "What you're talking about, you're talking about an angel of death," John continued, glossing over what had just happened.

"If we're right though, angels are prolific, relentless. Even if Trent Kelty was the angel's first victim, he is not going to be the last," I told John as I finished off my coffee and started tapping on my leg with my hand impatiently. Caffeine probably wasn't such a good idea for someone who couldn't sit still for long periods of time without something to do.

"We are we going then?" John asked us as he looked out the window as if trying to determine where we were headed that way.

"Back to the hospital. We need to ask around, see if anyone noticed anyone acting particularly odd. We can also check on the status of Kelty's autopsy down in the morgue. We need records of any in hospital deaths," Sherlock told John as he looked out of his own window at the streets of London rushing by.

"It's going to be another long night isn't it?" John asked us with a groan and I smiled at John and patted his arm comfortingly.

"Yeah, it is. Sorry John," I told him before sitting back as he groaned again to sit out the remainder of our cab ride. My phone buzzed and I looked down to see that Mycroft had texted me that he would be out of his meeting soon and then he would be coming to collect me. I groaned myself and put my head in my hands wondering if the Holmes' boys were going to be the death of me.

We got to the hospital and the three of us piled out of the cab as Sherlock left John and me to pay the cabbie as he darted inside the hospital. I collected John and we enter the hospital, finding our way down to the morgue to find Liz and see is she had the autopsy reports for us. We enter the room from that morning and found Liz and Sherlock over by her desk as she showed him her reports from the autopsy. She looked frazzled, the way most people looked after having an encounter with a Holmes' brother. She sighed with relief as soon as she saw me and darted over to me as if she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

"Thank Ghandi, your handler is here," Liz cheered as she came and hugged me as if she hadn't seen me in years. She pointed a thumb back at Sherlock as soon as she finally let go of me. "You need to put him on a leash," She told me moodily.

"I'm guessing he disturbed your Zen zone," I said as John looked between the two of us looking amused. Yeah, he could look amused until he saw Liz turn against us. She might like me, but that hadn't stopped her from throwing me out of her morgue a fair few times. Liz nodded back at me before grumbling to herself about "bloody detectives." I smiled at her sheepishly and gave her a hug as she continued to grumble to herself. "Sorry Liz. I'll send you over a Doctor Who care package for your troubles. Seriously though, what do you have for us on that autopsy?" I asked her hopefully. She glared at me for another few seconds before her mood did a complete one eighty and she smiled manically as she skipped down the length of the room and plucked the file from Sherlock's hands and brought it back over to me. Sherlock protested loudly at having his file taken away but one evil stare from Liz quieted him.

"Well take a look," Liz told me as she showed me the autopsy report. I scanned over it before Liz snatched it back and danced over to John, pointing out the results that mattered. "Way too much epinephrine in this guy's system. Which means Freud here was murdered so nicely done there," Liz said as she skipped across the room again and handed the file back to Sherlock with a little grin before she jumped up and sat on one of the metal tables that had a body lying on it this morning.

"Freud?" John asked her and I quickly shook my head at him. That explanation would take all day.

"Long story short she gives them all names. You're on psychologist this week?" I asked her with a raised eyebrow and she shrugged as she kicked her legs back and forth.

"I'm testing it out. Now…," She said as she hopped off the metal table and snatched the autopsy report out of Sherlock's hands again. He glared at her as she held it to her chest and pointed at the door. "…get out of my morgue," She finished, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, we should probably go. Thanks again Liz," I told her as I stepped past the short woman who was glaring at Sherlock and grabbed his arm, pulling him with me towards the door. John seemed to get the hint and was already out of the room. Liz was in one of her moods. I classified her as slightly bipolar.

"You owe me MacKenna. Do you hear me?" She called after me as Sherlock and I stepped into the hall and she followed us to the door to make sure we left.

"I know Liz," I assured her as I pulled Sherlock clear of the door while the two of them continued to have their childish standoff. I nudged Sherlock in the ribs and he looked down at me, fixing me with his glare. I gave him a look that said, _'Don't you dare go there'_ and he looked away from me and back at Liz still looking annoyed by being thrown out of the morgue. "I don't want to go," I told Liz and she glared at me for the tenth doctor reference that she despised anyone using.

"You're lucky I took my happy pill this morning," Liz told me before she stepped back and grabbed the door. "And stay out," Liz told us as she shut the door behind us loudly. I sighed and grinned, shaking my head at the closed door while John looked between me and at the now closed door to the morgue where the dragon Liz currently resided.

"What's wrong with her?" John asked me as he pointed towards the door. I laughed as I started walking, my hands in the pockets of my coat as the boys were forced to follow after me or be left behind. I had a doctor to go and meet if I ever wanted to go home and Mycroft would be getting out of his meeting soon. I wanted to wrap this up before I got pulled away from the case.

"So many things John. So many things," I said as I got into the elevator and pressed the button that would take us up to the floor that Dr. Green's office was on. I had a feeling we would get more help from him than the grouchy administrator. The three of us waited in the elevator. John calm, but Sherlock and I impatient. By the time we got to the fifth floor, Sherlock and I bolted out of the elevator leaving John to catch up with us. We found Dr. Green's office and Sherlock barely knocked to give him warning before he opened the door and barged inside with John and I in tow.

Dr. Green looked extremely busy for someone who was head of surgery as he played golf in his office. "Ah, detectives, can I help you?" He asked us as he straightened up and turned to us, giving us his full attention.

"That remains to be seen. Are you more competent than the rest of the hospital staff?" Sherlock asked him as he wrapped his coat around him, his hands in his pockets as he stood over the doctor who as visibly shorter than him. Men, he was using his stature to seem more imposing to get what he wanted.

"Well, I'd like to think I am. I am head of surgery," The doctor responded tetchily and Sherlock smiled at him in that sickly sweet way that screamed creepy. "What is this about?" The doctor continued as I went and sat on the arm of one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"We have reason to believe that there is an angel of death stalking the halls of the hospital. A killer who preys upon the sick and the weak, those with only a few months to live," Sherlock told him as John came to stand behind my chair and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at the army doctor and smiled at him as he smiled down at me. I enjoyed John's company. He reminded me of the way Mycroft could get when he was acting all brotherly towards me.

"An angel of death here?" The doctor asked us sounding sceptical. "I don't know about that. We've got some pretty top-notch people here. I think we would have sniffed that out."

"Well, it is just a theory for the moment, but Sherlock and I have been right about everything so far," I pointed out as the doctor and Sherlock turned to me. "We've just been down to see Elizabeth Kingston in the morgue. The autopsy reports she showed us confirmed that Trent Kelty's epinephrine levels were well in excess of what he received during the code. He was murdered," I continued, as I looked pointedly at the doctor. He stared back at me before walking over to his desk and sitting down heavily in his desk chair, suddenly becoming more professional as we laid out the evidence for him.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," The doctor told us, no quiet sounding sorry at all. I raised an eyebrow at that and looked back to see if Sherlock had picked up on what I had. He nodded at me to confirm that he had indeed realized the same thing I had. Slightly suspicious there.

"If we are going to prove that someone is killing your patients here, we need information. Access to all medical records of in hospital deaths and all logs relating to the supply and usage of epinephrine," Sherlock demanded of him getting right to the point of our meeting. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out, discretely reading the text. Mycroft was in route to the hospital and would be there to collect me within the next ten minutes. I looked at Sherlock who looked down at me, noting my change in posture.

'_Mycroft,'_ I told him with one look.

'_Good luck,'_ His return look said dismissively.

'_Oh great, thanks for that. He's your brother. You deal with him,_' I shot back with a glare as I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.

'_No, he's your problem. You're the one he isn't happy with,' _Sherlock told me with a shrug.

'_Lovely. Throw me under the bus why don't you,'_ I told him with more narrowing of my eyes before I turned away from him. Our conversation was over in a matter of seconds and left everyone who didn't know what we were doing to stare at us again. **(A/N Expect many arguments between the two of them and conversations done with just looks in the future. This is something that could legit happen as it is easy enough to read facial cues. Maybe not enough to know exactly what someone is saying, but since Sherlock and Lexi understand each other enough, they get the gist of what the other is saying.)**

"Why are you talking to me then? James handles all of the records," The doctor asked us as he continued to look at us oddly. I would have to explain what we were doing to John later so he wouldn't feel so out of the loop. That just went on my long list of things I had to do before I could get some bloody sleep.

"I'm not sure if you noticed, by he isn't exactly our biggest fan. That's why we're talking to you. We know he'll say no," I told the doctor as I kicked my legs back and forth, a nervous habit. I didn't want to get into it with Mycroft today and I knew it was probably going to come to that.

"We also came to see you because you smiled when I made fun of his height this morning. You don't like him. It's clear in your posture when someone speaks of him, the way you say his name, and the looks you were shooting his way this morning. I don't blame you, most people hate their bosses. That's why I remain self-employed," Sherlock told him and I giggled at that. He was right, he had smiled at the short joke that morning. I couldn't laugh too much though. John was about the same height as the administrator.

"You're also the head of a very important department, so your opinion carries a lot of weight around here," John added, taking the medical aspect of the argument. It was nice to have a doctor on your side when dealing with hospitals and crime scenes. Book knowledge of this stuff could only get me so far. John had the practical knowledge that was vital to our work as investigators.

"Okay, I'll talk to him," The doctor relented and I grinned at him widely. Now we were getting somewhere. "And by "talk" I mean I will threaten to hold a press conference to express my grave concerns regarding this hospital's apparent indifference to the possibly that a murder may be stalking its halls. You should have everything you need in a couple of hours," The doctor assured us as my phone trilled its text alert. I looked down at it warily and groaned loudly when I read the text message. Mycroft was waiting for me in a car outside and he told me not to keep him waiting or he would get impatient. Pissing off Mycroft further was not on my list of things to do right now.

"And I might be dead by then. Throw me a great funeral," I told Sherlock as I got up and collected myself as I shoved my phone in my back pocket after letting Mycroft know that I would be right down. "If you don't hear from me for a few hours, Mycroft is holding me prisoner," I told him as I walked to the door ready to leave.

"Mmm, do tell my brother hello for me," Sherlock told me with a grin. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Meanie, this wasn't just my fault. Why am I the only one getting yelled at for it?" I whined as John moved and gave me a hug goodbye. I tried to remind myself that I would see him again in a few hours…if I was lucky. Mycroft had a tendency to drone on and on when he was lecturing me.

"For some reason, my brother apparently seems to love you more. Good luck with that," Sherlock told me and I groaned again before leaving the office , letting Sherlock and John wrap the meeting up with the doctor so I didn't leave Mycroft waiting for too long. As it was, he was probably going to be unhappy with how long I had already left him waiting for me outside.

I took the stairs two at a time and ran through the lobby and out to the curbing where his sleek black car was waiting for me. Allen got out of the driver's side and opened the back door for me, throwing me a comforting smile as I grimaced at him. He patted my shoulder as I slid into the car which was the only warning I got as to what mood Mycroft was in. I cringed as soon as I saw him, taking the seat across from him. His hand was wrapped around the handle of his umbrella and his knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding it. Other than that, he looked rather calm, but I knew that what he felt on the inside was a different story. Mycroft had a way of holding his emotions in when he needed too which was never good because they always came out all at once at moments like this. It didn't help that today's meeting didn't seem to have gone well either. I sat in silence, waiting for him to speak firs as I sat, my hands folded in my lap.

"Alexandria Elspeth MacKenna," Mycroft started and I cringed again. He only used my full name when he was really angry with me. All brotherly like kidding around completely disappeared in those moments. As he reminded me enough times, he did a lot to make sure I could get away with as much as I did. Sadly, I never knew when to quit while I was ahead.

"Mycroft Archibald Holmes," I said with a straight face. Mycroft death glared at me. If looks could kill I really would be in a bit of a problem as in Sherlock would have to be called in to solve my murder. I made a zipping lips motion and gestured for Mycroft to continue.

"I feel that it is necessary that you cut ties with my brother and Dr. Watson," Mycroft began and I held up my hands, instantly interrupting him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? No seriously what?" I asked him blinking rapidly, not sure if I had heard him right.

"I said…," Mycroft began again before I cut him off for the second time.

"No, no. I heard you the first time Mycroft. What I wasn't sure is if I was hearing you right. Why would I want to "cut ties" as you put it with John and Sherlock?" I asked Mycroft seriously getting slightly angry now.

"Since meeting my brother you have nearly been killed by a serial killer, broken your arm, and have been arrested and nearly arrested," Mycroft told me as if that was enough of a reason to completely give up my friendship with John and Sherlock.

"First of all, I didn't break my arm, I fractured my knuckles and second of all that and nearly being arrested was my own fault. I did that Mycroft, not Sherlock. Also, yes, I was nearly arrested today. Again that was my own fault not Sherlock's. I knew it was a bad idea but I did it anyway, he didn't force me into it. And as for nearly getting killed, that would have happened anyway. I got called into the case too and the cabbie definitely knew me," I said before putting a hand over my mouth at having that little piece of information slip out.

"Is there something you have neglected to tell me Alexandria?" Mycroft asked me tetchily. Well… bullocks. This was going to end really well.

"No, nothing. I was just pointing out that the cabbie knew who I was like he did Sherlock. John was in Afghanistan when I was taking case four years ago and Sherlock was in rehab, but some people still remember my name from the papers," I told Mycroft hoping he would buy it. He didn't look completely convinced, but glossed over it.

"Be that as it may, since you have met Dr. Watson and my brother you have started taking cases again and gotten into more trouble in one week than you have in the last four years."

"That's not exactly true Mycroft and you know it. And as for Sherlock, we would have meet eventually whether you liked it or not. He's your brother and he's a detective. Did you really think he wasn't going to find out about me eventually? Not to mention the fact we both know Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan hate the both of us, we both know Mike who knew John first, and we both know Molly. We have the same group of friends. Sooner or later we would have found out about one another and been introduced. Sherlock and I for certain and I'm sure I would have met John too. And as for taking cases again, that's what you wanted. You wanted me to go back to work and I have," I argued with him knowing this was going to take a while with the way Mycroft was looking at me.

"I meant for you to go back to work, not for you to suddenly become the dynamic duo with my brother!" Mycroft shot back and I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

"I don't know what to tell you Croft! You want me to work cases, I'm working cases. Sorry if it's not in the way you like, but I like working with John and Sherlock. If you haven't noticed, I'm safer with them too. You always would worry about me when I went off on my own to solve a case and now I have Sherlock and an army doctor to look out for me. I would have thought you would have been happy with that."

"Happy with the fact that you're living with my brother who doesn't have the sense to take care of himself half the time. Do you really think I'm happy about that?" Mycroft asked me incredulously.

"It's not like we're married or you have to watch out for me for God's sakes! I know you want to watch out for me Mycroft, but you do not control everything I do! Look, I don't want to fight you on this Croft," I told him, taking his hand in mine as I sighed heavily and looked at him, watching him calm down a little bit like I had. "I don't want to fight with you. You're like my brother Croft. You're the only person I've ever had in my life that's given a damn about what happens to me, but I need you to let me make my own decisions. I know you say caring is not an advantage and I think that's a load of bullocks because you damn well care about me to put up with me for as long as you have and protected me like you have in the past. I care about John and Sherlock like you care about me. Sherlock understands me like you have and I have you, but Sherlock doesn't. I don't know what happened between you, but Sherlock needs someone and so does John. I don't want to have to fight you on this, but I will if I have to. Please don't make me have to," I pleaded with Mycroft and he looked back at me, his anger melting away and that soft brotherly expression adorning his face again. Mycroft only let his guard down and let me in every so often. These were the moments with Mycroft that were never forgotten, especially one that seemed so long ago when he had found me when I was left for dead.

"I won't fight you on this," Mycroft told me after a long moment of silence. "But I do not like it either. Any relationship with my brother will not end well for you. Dr. Watson is loyal and will be good for you, but my brother is not," Mycroft told me, pleading with me to leave him, leave Sherlock.

"He can't be all bad Croft. You aren't," I told him and I watched as the man who was always so serious and never showed any emotion actually smiled at me. I leaned across the car and kissed his cheek before switching seats so I was sitting next to him and snuggled against his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. He only let me do this when it was just the two of us and I ever told anyone he would deny that this happened until the cows came home. Mycroft Holmes might be many things, but heartless was not one of them. He actually was a big softie, but he would never let anyone know this, certainly not Sherlock. I knew there was a lot of regret over what happened with his brother and that Mycroft didn't know how to make things right. I couldn't guarantee that I could make things right between them, but I was going to strive to at least keep things civil between them. Maybe I could work it to where they could be in the same room with one another for longer than a minute without instigation an argument with one another. I wasn't a miracle worker, but I could try. "You need to start trusting each other more Croft. Sherlock isn't as bad as you think. Sure, he isn't perfect, but no one is. He has as many odd quirks as you do. It's all about being a Holmes," I told Mycroft with a girl as I pulled back to look at him. I shushed him as he tried to reply and nestled back down onto his shoulder, happy just to nap until he took my home to Baker Street.

The flat at Baker Street with John and Sherlock really was my home now. I had felt so alone before, living day to day without a real purpose for the last four years and now I felt like I actually had a purpose again. I felt like I had a family for once, something I hadn't ever really had before meeting Mycroft. I had my Baker Street boys and my big brother who ran the British Government. My life was by no means perfect, but it was mine and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I got to do what very little people ever got to. I had people who cared about me and I had all I could ever ask for. Sure, I would have liked some things in my past to be different, but changing them would mean changing me and I was perfectly happy being who I was. People could call me mental, they could call me a sociopath, but at the end of the day, I was just happy to be Lexi MacKenna. The consulting detective, the scientist, the writer, and the only woman who could ever truly understand a Holmes.


	20. The Art of Crime

(**A/N) Hello my sweeties! I am so glad that you like the last chapters and kudos to those of you that realized I am adapting Elementary cases. Yes, I am. I watch both shows and love them equally as they are both different. I really wanted to add some in between cases as we all know that Sherlock took some case in between the moth span between A Study in Pink and The Blind Banker. Thus the Elementary case adaptions were born.**

**In this chapter we get some more kick ass deductions and crime solving and Sherlock and Lexi fluff and good old times in Baker Street. It isn't always about the cases, it's also about the bond the three of them share and I find it important to develop that. You will see in the future how I will make references to things that happened in these cases. Everything is relevant. Two bigger cases after this one and then the Blind Banker which I am still writing. It's an eight chapter case and each chapter is long with everything I add to them. All I will give away is that if you want to see some Sherlock/Lexi fluff, you'll be getting it soon. Cheers! See you back here on Sunday.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen- The Art of Crime<strong>

"He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away from the picture. I have not heard him laugh often, and it has always boded ill to somebody."

― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles

I was more than content to take a nap on Mycroft's shoulder until the car pulled up at Baker Street. I stretched and yawned a little as Mycroft watched me with, dare I say it, fondness. I knew that the moment wouldn't last. As soon as I got out of the car, it would be like this never happened between us. That was okay. Mycroft could play the role of uncaring British Government official if he wanted to. I knew the truth so he could never fool me. Mycroft will and always would be the big brother. It didn't matter if he tried to seem uncaring or unsentimental. He care more than he let on and he certainly cared about Sherlock and me. I grinned at him lopsidedly as I gave him a one arm hug which he stiffly returned.

"Thanks for the ride Croft," I told him as I went to open the door to the car. He reached back across and stopped me from getting out and I looked back at him rising one eyebrow.

"Take care of yourself," Mycroft told me after a second, wavering from what he was originally going to tell me. I grinned back at him as he let me go and I got my feet on the curbing, door in hand.

"Always. I'll text you later and I'll keep an eye on Sherlock for you," I assured Mycroft who nodded at my dismissively. I saluted him before shutting the car door and tapping the side, giving him a send-off. I trudged up to the door of Baker Street and got my keys out of my pocket which Mrs. Hudson had just given to John and me that week. I was glad that I didn't have to wait for Mrs. Hudson to come and open the door for once. It was always nice seeing her but she tended to titter over you before she would let you do what you needed too. Apparent I looked to bony for her liking so she kept trying to fatten me up with her pastries which while delicious I was starting to tire of them. I was naturally thin due to a high metabolism and constant chases through the city of London. Odds were that I would lose a bit of the weight I had gained in the last four years which wasn't much. It wasn't an unhealthy look though. I was thin but I still had meat on my bones. I wouldn't waist away if I suddenly got sick. My chest was the one thing on me that wasn't small though or my hips for that matter. I slipped inside Baker Street and frowned when I heard that it was completely silent. I took the stairs up to the flat cautiously and peered into the flat to find John on his computer and Sherlock lying on the couch in his prayer pose. I sighed with relief finding no signs of the destruction that Mycroft had tried to warn me about. John turned around when he heard my footsteps stop and Sherlock opened one eye lazily, looked at me with disinterest, and then went back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Still alive I see," John joked as I contemplated going over to Sherlock and sitting on him. I wanted to curl up on the couch. I pouted as I slid out of my jacket and scarf and hung them up behind the door before I went to just plop myself down in Sherlock's chair, kicking my feet up over the arm of the chair. I liked his chair and it annoyed him when I sat in it which for me was a double win. It wasn't my fault they both had their own chairs and I didn't. One of them had to share and when neither of them were occupying theirs it suddenly became the property of MacKenna.

"Don't go there Watson," I told him as I put my arm over my face and groaned. "Your brother is more annoying that you are," I told Sherlock as I pointed my foot at him accusingly.

"Thank you," Sherlock said lazily as I opened my eyes to look at him.

"That wasn't a compliment Holmes," I told him as I groaned again and pulled myself up from Sherlock's chair. "I'm making tea, do you two want some?" I asked them as I made for the kitchen.

"Cheers," John told me as Sherlock grunted. I shook my head at him as I slipped into the kitchen and set about making three mugs of tea. I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the kettle to boil and while I waited I hummed under my breath as I rearranged all of the tea and put it back in a place that would be easier for John to reach with his shoulder. Once the water was ready it was another minute or so of steeping the tea and then fixing it to everyone's liking. I brought the mugs out and handed John his nicely as he thanked me, but I just set down Sherlock's on the coffee table with just a little bit of force. He opened his eye and looked at me and I stuck my tongue out at him as I forcibly removed his feet from the end of the couch and sat down, putting his feet back on my lap. I took a sip of my tea before reclining and closing my eyes. This day had been way too long. "Was Mycroft really that bad?" John asked me and I snorted and sunk further into the couch.

"You met him, what do you think?" I asked John as I took another sip of my tea. "He wanted me to move out," I told them honestly. Sherlock sat up quickly and I jumped, opening my eyes and staring back at him.

"Are you?" Sherlock asked me quickly. I shook my head at him and raised an eyebrow.

"No, Mycroft doesn't tell me what to do. I'm staying," I told him surprised that he wanted me here. Unless I was reading too much into that. Maybe he just didn't want me to go changing things on him again. He would have to find another flat mate if I left. Anyway, I was never going to tell them exactly what happened in that car. There were something that I would rather keep between Mycroft and me and as far as I was concerned that discussion never happened.

"Good," Sherlock said, lying back down and resuming his prayer position. I looked across at John who was staring at us in confusion.

"What was that?" I mouthed to him as I looked down at Sherlock who didn't look like he was going to be moving again anytime soon. John shrugged back at me before he started typing away on his laptop. "What are you doing there?" I asked John curiously as I tried to get comfortable under the weight of Sherlock's bony legs. He was like a cat, they weren't heavy until they laid down on you and moved all their weight to one part of their body.

"I was typing up the cabbie case. It seemed interesting. I thought I might put it up on my blog," John told me as he looked up from his laptop and shrugged again. "Just an idea."

"I think that's brilliant John," I told the army doctor with a grin. Ha we would be like characters in a story. **(A/N You are Lexi, you are.) **"I'm thinking of turning my website into a blog," I commented as I flick lint off of Sherlock's trousers.

"You have a website?" John asked me curiously and I nodded, making a noise of confirmation before Sherlock interrupted me.

"The 'Art of Crime', fascinating," Sherlock drawled out and I hit him in the leg for being rude. He raised his eyebrows, but made no other movement, returning to his silence. I managed to get my phone out of my back pocket and snapped a picture of Sherlock, sending it to Mycroft and asking him what he was doing. This wasn't the first time he had sat like this, in fact he was frequently spacing out in this position. Mycroft texted me back and told me he was in his "Mind Palace" which was almost like my own filing system. He warned me that Sherlock could sit like that for hours without moving. Well, it was a good thing I was comfortable.

"So, what kinds of stuff do you know? I mean obviously you know Chemistry and how to solve crimes, but what about other things?" John asked us as he set his laptop down on his side table.

"What sorts of things?" I asked John curiously.

"Politics?" John started and I shook my head as Sherlock responded with a no. "Philosophy? Astronomy?" John tried again looking at us with a dumbfounded expression over our lack of political knowledge. Mycroft was the British Government. Anything I really had to know I could find out through him.

"Both yes," I answered him while Sherlock said no again. "Wait you don't know Astronomy?" I asked Sherlock with a laugh. He huffed loudly and rolled over onto his side, bring his legs up to his chest and effectively kicking my in the stomach with his knees. "Oi, bull in the china closet," I scolded him, rubbing my stomach before I leaned over his legs and put my tea down on the floor before he got the chance to spill it all over me.

"Are you saying you don't know about the solar system?" John asked Sherlock sounding bemused. Sherlock grumbled again and stood up, crossing over to the window as he picked up his violin.

"The solar system? Hmmm no," Sherlock told us as he started plucking the string of his violin as he sat down in his chair.

"That's primary school knowledge!" John cried at him and Sherlock only shrugged as he went back to his "Mind Palace." John looked back at me for help. "Lexi, tell him," John told me and I shook my head at him. I was not getting in the middle of this. I did however grin mischievously as I sprawled out on the now Sherlock free couch and stretched like a cat before curling up with one of the couch pillows under my head. Haha, nap time.

"Switzerland," I told John as I closed my eyes and smiled sleepily. Some sleep sounded nice about now. I was still having the nightmares. A few hours of sleep in the middle of the case would be nice since Sherlock would probably have us up for most of the night as soon as we got the records from the hospital. "I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything I have ever read or seen," I explained to John. "Mycroft also tested my I.Q after we first met."

"What was it?" John asked me as I snuggled down into the couch as if I could sink right into it.

"173," I told him as my eyelids started to drop.

"Bloody hell, that's, that's genius level," John exclaimed and I opened one eye at him to look at him lazily. I shrugged at him before I attempted to fall asleep.

"Sherlock's is 175," I told John as Sherlock started playing a low song that was rather relaxing. "Mycroft told me," I said sleepily as I yawned. I didn't hear anything else John said because I feel asleep in the middle of talking to him.

I woke up about an hour or two later judging by the sunlight that was streaming into the room. At first I was confused as to why I had woken up, but then I realized it was because several police officers were moving boxes of hospital records into the flat, stacking them up wherever they found room. Lestrade was talking to Sherlock near the kitchen and John was still in his chair, having dozed off himself. I got up off of the couch and starched, yawning a little as I collected my tea cup and trudged past the officers towards the kitchen. It didn't bother me that they had seen me in all my sleeping glory. This was my flat. If I wanted to take a nap on my couch in the middle of the afternoon than I was going to. They could work around me.

"There she is," Lestrade said as he caught sight of me. I waved at him sleepily as I brushed between the two men and went into the kitchen. Lestrade followed me in as I went to the sink and washed out my mug. He looked over the kitchen which looked like a natural disaster with chemicals all over the place and the sheep's heart stabbed to a cutting board with a knife. "I'm going to act like I didn't see that," Lestrade told me as he pointed to the cutting board. I didn't know what his problem was. It wasn't a human heart for one and it was perfectly legal for us to have it for once. People ate sheep's hearts all the time.

"So does John," I told him with a grin as I leaned up against the counter. I blinked back some sleep from my eyes and yawned again loudly.

"He's keeping you working is he?" Lestrade asked me with a cheeky grin. I nodded at him as I opened the fridge and took out an apple, not even caring that it had been right next to a plate with a tongue on it. My body effective blocked Lestrade from seeing that tad bit illegal thing he shouldn't see. I bit into the skin of the apple and munched on it as Lestrade watched me. "How's the case going then?"

"Fine, we should be able to figure it out soon enough," I told him, taking another bite of my apple. The case was actually going rather well or at least I thought so. It was interesting. I had only ever heard about Angles of Death before and now I got to see this type of killer first hand. They were interesting because they thought they could play God to a certain degree.

"It's odd seeing you two working together. I used to have nightmares about this sort of thing happening," Lestrade told me and I laughed as threw out my apple core.

"You and Mycroft both," I told Lestrade as I slipped back into the living room. John was just waking up and Sherlock was back to laying on the couch as if he had been waiting for me to vacate it. John waved at Lestrade who looked round the flat once before nodding back at the three of us.

"Yeah, anyway, I'll leave you to it," Lestrade told us as he made for the stairs. "Afternoon," He said before leaving the three of us alone in the flat again. Now came the fun part of reviewing files for the rest of the night. As soon as the door closed downstairs, Sherlock bounced up and started pulling files out of one of the closest boxes to him. He was like a kid on Christmas morning eager to open all of his presents. In this case his presents were hospital records. There were a lot of records, two years' worth of files to go through in one night.

John and I shared a look before collecting our own boxes. That look said see you on the other side if you make it. We spent the next three hours, writing down a huge list of possible victims of the angel along with the dates of their deaths in the hospital. I sat on the floor, papers spread out around me, in between the two boys. My eyes felt a bit tired from reading the small print for so long and I could kill for a sugar fix but I had to say, working on a case with other people was nice. It meant I didn't have to do all of the work by myself. This amount of files would have taken me days to go through alone. At about hour four, John put down the file he was reviewing and sighed heavily as he got up at stretched out his sore limbs from sitting for so long and rubbed a hand down his face.

"All this because you made a few short jokes," He remarked as he moved towards the kitchen and disappeared out of sight. His phone pinged in his absence and I looked up and saw the name Jackie on the screen. He came back into the living room with three mugs of tea which he handed off to Sherlock and me before sitting again. I smiled as I drank the tea in contentment. John looked across to his phone and groaned as he saw who the text he had received was from. That's when I remembered that I had promised to text Mycroft with an update. I leaned back and grabbed my phone from the coffee table and texted him a quick picture of the files spread out around me on the floor.

"_**So many files. Pretty dangerous stuff. Might get a paper cut**_," I texted him with a grin as John opened his text begrudgingly. "Trouble in paradise?" I asked John as I looked up from my phone. He fixed an icy glare on me and I giggled. "I'll take that as a yes. Spill it Watson, I might be able to help," I told him as Sherlock snorted behind me. I grabbed one of the pieces of paper I was using to write notes on and crumpled it, throwing it at Sherlock's head. It bounced off of the top of his curls as he bent over a file. John chuckled as Sherlock looked up at me and glared. I stuck my tongue out at him before I stood and went to sit on the arm of John's chair. "So what seems to be the problem?"

"We've only been going out the last few days and she already wants to be with me twenty-four seven… going out, doing things. Then I mentioned you and she wanted to know who you were and wouldn't drop the subject and I told her you were my flat mate and she didn't like that," John told me as he scrubbed his face again. I squeezed the poor man's shoulders. John was a nice bloke, he just needed to find a nice girl.

"And you are getting discouraged because she's the first girl you've dated since getting back from Afghanistan," I stated as he looked up at me. It was a simple deduction. When I met him it seemed like he was avoiding everyone. He did not seem like the person who was dating and I would be either if I was recently invalided home from Afghanistan and trying to adapt to civilian life. Ergo, Jackie was the first person he dated since coming home.

"How did you know that? My thumb? Mud on my trousers?" John asked me jokingly and I shook my head, smacking him in the arm playfully as I laughed at him.

"No, it was obvious. Don't worry about Jackie, you'll find someone," I told John before cocking my head to the side and thinking about it for a long moment. "You know what, when my friend Mary comes to visit me again, I'll introduce the two of you. I think you would like her," I told John as I hopped off his chair and collected up some of the files, brushing them into a neater pile. (**A/N I have plans for Mary that fit in with what already happens in season three but she is slightly OC because I made some changes for the story and things I would have like seen done with her character. I have kept everything about her from season three though so don't worry.)**

"Now you're trying to set me up with one of your girlfriends," John chuckled as I looked back at him over my shoulder, brushing my hair out of my face in the process.

"That's what friends do. I'm serious though, you'd like her. She's a nurse. We met in Uni. She was my roommate in med school," I told John as I thought of my best friend who was more like a sister to me, especially since she had put up with me when I was still an addict. She had moved back to Edinburgh when I left for London. Mary was originally from England but she like Scotland and the countryside. John and she actually would get on rather well. Mary was nice and the sort of person I would approve of John dating. This girl Jackie sounded all wrong for him. John was kind, loyal, and a great friend. He needed someone he could look after and who would take care of him in turn.

"She sounds lovely," John told me as he looked up at the clock and noticed the time. It was nearly seven at night now. We had been look through the case files for a long time. "Is that the time?" John asked me as he pulled himself from his chair again. I nodded at him as he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with takeaway menus. "How does takeaway sound?" He asked me with a grin as we both glanced over at Sherlock. We probably wouldn't be eating for a while if it was up to him.

"That sounds amazing right now," I told John as I stretched and then righted my jumper. I padded barefooted down to my room, returning with my case bag to the living room as John was looking through the takeaway menus trying to decide on one of them.

"Sushi?" John asked me holding up the menu to a place we had found together that week. I had been surprised when John initially suggested the little takeout shop, but then I realized that he would be a little more adventurous with his food because of his time in the military. I wasn't a picky eater either. Mycroft had taken me to a few of those fancy restaurants where all the food was fancy and didn't resemble anything I was used to. Sherlock, however, seemed to be very picky with what he ate when he did actually eat something.

"Salmonella, Vibrio parahaemolyticus, mercury poisoning, Anisakis simplex. All illnesses contractible from eating raw fish. Anisakis is a worm that can burrow into the wall of the intestine, often requiring surgery to remove it, but yeah, sushi's good," Sherlock said, not looking up from the file his head was buried in in. John and I looked at one another before shuddering. John crumpled the take out menu before looking across to me.

"How does Chinese sound?" He asked me, still looking at Sherlock exasperatedly. He had ruined another place for us to eat. He had already told us about what was happening in the kitchen of one café we had tried that week. Something about a newlywed couple who owned the café. I tried not to think about it.

"Chinese sounds great, yeah," I told John as I walked over to Sherlock and plopped down on the couch next to him. He turned to me briefly, his eyes calculating as he attempted to deduce me. Since I moved in, he would try every so often as if looking for a different result. "Any luck?" I asked him gesturing to the file he was reading as John ordered our dinner in the kitchen. Technically that question could e taken either way, any luck deducing me yet or any luck with the case.

"Luck is an offensive, abhorrent concept. The idea that there is a force in the universe titling events in your favour or against it is ridiculous. Idiots rely on luck," Sherlock shot back and I looked at him pointedly, raising one eyebrow. I knew he hadn't just gone there.

"I meant, have you found anything yet. I'm guessing that would be a no," I said as John walked back into the room and took up his spot in his chair again. My phone dinged from where I had put it on the side table near John's chair. He looked over at it then back at me.

"Mycroft," He told me as he picked up my phone. I held my hands up and he threw it to me. I caught it in one hand and grinned back at him before I unlocked it and read the text Mycroft had sent me in reply.

"_**Try not to injure yourself too **_**badly.-MH**" I giggled as I read it and typed back that his advice was duly noted. Sherlock glanced over at my phone and I purposely tilted it towards him so he could see my conversation with Mycroft. The corners of his mouth turned up in a little grin before he looked away as if he hadn't been looking in the first place. I knew he was nosy about what Mycroft and I talked about all the time. It was only natural that he would be curious about whatever correspondence I had with his brother.

"What have you got at least?" I asked Sherlock, trying a different tactic. He liked to educate others about what he found out. Sometimes I found that the more you repeated something or talked through something, the more you understood it. Plus, three minds working on one conundrum was better than one.

"Over the past two years at Chelsea and Westminster hospital, seventy- three seriously ill patients died of cardiac events," Sherlock began as he got up and stepped up and over the coffee table before he started pacing the length of the living room.

"Chances are some of those are natural though. I mean, sick people do have heart attacks and die," John pointed out as Sherlock eyed the list we had made on my case board on a large sheet of paper. I threw to him my red Sharpie and he caught it without even looking before twirling it between his fingers.

"Which means that one, none, or some of them may have fallen victim to the same person who killed Kelty, but without the angel's victims, I can't see his pattern. Without his pattern I can't develop a list of suspects," Sherlock said as he angrily ran his hands through his dark curls, ruffling them up before turning back to me and pointing, silently asking me to come up with an answer on the spot and fix his problems. I knew this case was frustrating him because there was no clear bath to investigate. We were grasping at straws at this point. We knew what was going on but we had to find the pattern so we could figure out who the killer might be but as John pointed out, some of those deaths could be natural. Finding the ones that were murders was almost like searching for a needle in a haystack.

"Okay so let's not focus on the victims, but on the murder weapon. Epinephrine is hard to get a hold of. Even if our killer had a prescription because of an allergy, he would have a very limited amount. Not enough to have been able to kill Kelty and several other people. It's more likely…," I said before Sherlock cut me off. I sighed and sat with my hands folded in my lap, letting him continue. I was glad this seemed to be helping him.

"Yes, obviously it's more likely that he nicked it from the pharmacy. I already checked the records and the pharmacy reported epinephrine missing on only two occasions, neither of which correspond to one of the seventy-three cardiac events," Sherlock informed me as he continued in his pacing. We were definitely going to wear a path into the carpet before long.

"What about crash carts?" John asked us and Sherlock and I both turned to him as he got out of his chair and moved over to where the logs were thrown earlier. "They're stocked with epinephrine and they're usually unlocked," John told us as he picked up the first log for 2008. He scanned down the log before making a little humming sound. "Here," John said as Sherlock moved to the board and uncapped the Sharpie, waiting. "During 2008, epinephrine went missing from various crash carts on January 6th, March 19th, March 27th June 20th, and October 28th," John read off as Sherlock circled a name on our list of a patient who died of a cardiac event on those dates.

"That's a lot of a drug to go missing without anyone raising an alarm right?" I asked John who nodded at me in confirmation of my thoughts.

"Yeah, that's a bit suspicious. You would have thought they would have realized someone was stealing it after the second or third time. Hospitals are generally more worried about Oxy and other opiates going missing though because they could be sold on the street. Epinephrine doesn't qualify," John told me as Sherlock turned back to us.

"As I said, all of the hospital staff are incompetent. They wouldn't recognize something if it was staring them straight in the face. Remind me never to be brought there, I prefer Bart's," Sherlock told us and I giggled at that. Liz would be chewing him out if she heard him even looping her into that classification. "2009," Sherlock barked at John as he turned around back to his board.

"Hang on," John told him as he reached for the other log behind me. "Alright, February 17th, April 4th, May 25th, September 19th," John read off and Sherlock continued to circle the last of the dates on our list of possible victims.

"Each of the dates corresponds with one of the 73 cardiac deaths," Sherlock told us as he turned around and watched the both of us.

"If we're right and I think we are, he's killed nine people already," I said as I walked up to the board and viewed it. Nine people die similar deaths and no one questions it? As Sherlock said, people see, but they do not observe.

"We have our pattern, now we'll find our suspects. I'll text Lestrade, update him on what we found. Tomorrow morning we'll return to the hospital and start interrogating the suspects," Sherlock informed us as he walked over to the couch and collected his phone, typing out his message quickly.

"Guess we can actually get some sleep tonight," John told me with a grin as the doorbell rang, signalling that the food had arrived. "I'll go get that," John told me, rushing to get his wallet. I dug through my case bag and came back with some bills which I threw to John. He caught them and looked at me in confusion.

"Dinners on me," I told him with a grin, refusing to let him pay as I walked off to the kitchen and grabbed plates and flatware, bring them back to the living room. John returned with the takeout and we started plating it up as Sherlock sat on the couch, spacing out as he took up his prayer position again. I set a plate down in front of him and shoved a fork into his hand before I moved and sat down on the floor with my plate, sitting between my Baker Street boys. I knew that Sherlock probably wasn't going to eat, but I was going to try at least. I didn't watch him as I started to eat my Sweet and Sour chicken, but I snuck a peek at him and caught him nibbling on a piece of Moo shu pork. John and I looked at each other and smiled triumphantly as we continued eating. Once we were finished, John took both of our plates into the kitchen. Sherlock was no longer picking at his plate but I left it with him as I got up and brought the cartons into the kitchen, stowing them on the top shelf of the fridge, away from the toes. I peeked back into the living room quietly and rolled my eyes fondly when I saw Sherlock eating his food instead of just picking at it. I stopped John from going out into the living room. He would stop eating as soon as he noticed us. He was like Mycroft, he would refuse to even acknowledge that he had eaten.

"You know how to handle him," John whispered to me as we peeked at him through the door way. I looked back at John and shrugged with a little grin on my face.

"Not exactly. I just understand Mycroft from how long I've been around him. Sherlock acts the same way as much as they try to say they're different," I told John honestly. John furrowed his brow in confusion.

"You've known Mycroft for a while. What's that like?" He asked me curiously as we leaned against the kitchen counter across from each other.

"Umm, well, interesting. I know he seems…overbearing, but he's really great. Mycroft, he's been there when I needed him to be. I can't fault him on that. He's not perfect and he certainly does not get along well with everyone, but I've been able to count on him," I explained to John as I looked back toward the kitchen door, aware of the fact that Sherlock could walk in at any second. Wasn't sure how he would feel about this conversation. Sherlock didn't even like it when Mycroft's name was mentioned, which happened at least once a day since Mycroft was always checking up on me.

"It's amazing how you can get them to listen to you," John remarked sounding impressed about this fact. I laughed loudly, me get them to listen? Ha, they never listened to anyone. I was just used to dealing with difficult people after a lifetime spent doing it.

"They don't listen to me and never think that they do. I just don't take no for an answer," I told John just as Sherlock decided to make his appearance in the doorway, carrying his empty plate. John and I both jumped and turned to him quickly. I wondered how much of our conversation he had heard.

"What are you talking about?" He asked as he brushed past the two of us, heading for the sink. His eyes locked with mine before he stared at John, trying to deduce him.

"Nothing," John stammered quickly as I mentally slapped myself in the head. I was going to have to teach John to be a little better with lying. Poor John was just so bad at it. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at us questioningly. I knew he could probably deduce what we were talking about easily, especially now since he was actively trying to figure out.

"I was just telling John about some of our experiments. I figured if he understood them, he might be less opposed to them," I lied effortlessly as I pushed off the counter and took the cutting bored off of the kitchen table and stowed it and the sheep's heart in the fridge before it turned rancid.

"Yeah, she was explaining the cup experiment, with the fingers," John added, playing along with the lie I was spinning. I gave him a look which I hoped said, let me do all the talking. The look also said shut up. Only lies had details. He had just utterly screwed up my attempt to cover up his first blunder. It was out of my hands now.

"Oh?" Sherlock asked me as he turned back to John. "And what did she tell you about it?" He asked John with a smirk and I started banging my head against a wall mentally. Of course he would ask John that. That's it, the R.M.S. Watson was sinking faster than the Titanic.

"Umm, well she said that…," John started before I cut him off, deciding to do something I wasn't proud of, but would work. I took a deep breath as John stammered and Sherlock smirked, knowing he had called our bluff and he would be getting his way.

"There's antimony, arsenic, aluminium, selenium…," I began singing as John and Sherlock turned and looked at me, both with odd expressions. John looked completely confused by this change in the direction of the conversation and Sherlock was looking at me like I had grown two heads. I had two options, continue or run away to my room. I chose the first option. "And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium. And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium, and iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium, Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium and lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium and gold, protactinium and indium and gallium and iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium," I continued on singing it as quickly as I could. It was an old memory technique I had learnt in Uni when I was learning the periodic table. I ignored the looks I was getting and just continued. I didn't like stopping in the middle of songs. "There's yttrium, ytterbium, actinium, rubidium and boron, gadolinium, niobium, iridium and strontium and silicon and silver and samarium, and bismuth, bromine, lithium, beryllium and barium. There's holmium and helium and hafnium and erbium and phosphorous and francium and fluorine and terbium and manganese and mercury, molybdenum, magnesium, Dysprosium and scandium and cerium and caesium and lead, praseodymium, and platinum, plutonium, Palladium, promethium, potassium, polonium, and Tantalum, technetium, titanium, tellurium, and cadmium and calcium and chromium and curium. There's sulphur, californium and fermium, berkelium and also mendelevium, einsteinium and nobelium and argon, krypton, neon, radon, xenon, zinc and rhodium and chlorine, carbon, cobalt, copper, Tungsten, tin and sodium. These are the only ones of which the news has come to Harvard, and there may be many others, but they haven't been discovered," I finished dramatically as both boys looked at me with the oddest expressions on their faces before I darted out of the kitchen. I was not sticking around for when the shock wore off. This was not going to be a repeat performance and it was going on my list of things I was never doing again…ever. John could take the bloody bullet himself next time. You got one get out of jail free card and he just used his. **(A/N She was singing The Element Song by Tom Lehrer and it actually was my own memory device in Uni last year. I passed my finals because I could sing it.)**

"What was that?" I heard John asking Sherlock as I went and curled up on the couch, burying my face into the leather of the couch, embarrassed that it had come to that. I wouldn't be able to show my face for days. It had worked though, they had completely forgotten what we had been talking about which was the entire point of the exercise. John was the iceberg and I was the life raft on this sinking ship.

"I have no idea," I heard Sherlock say as I heard their footsteps heading towards the living room. I buried my face deeper into the couch cushions, not wanting to face them right now. John owed me big time. "Are you just going to lay there now?" Sherlock asked me and I lifted my head slightly, my hair still hiding my face as it curtained around me.

"Yup," I told him, popping the p at the end of the word before hiding my face in the couch again. "Just leave me here to die of embarrassment," I told the boys and I heard John chuckling as he came over to the couch and took my pulse in the hand that was hanging over the edge of the couch.

"My medical opinion is that you aren't going to die," John said as he stood back up straight. I rolled over and glared up at him as my eyes flickered over to Sherlock who was watching me with a hint of amusement.

"Nope, dying, just going to happen. It's your fault," I told John as I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing down so that my chest didn't rise and fall nearly as high as before. I was being dramatic, but I did just take the bullet for John.

"How is it my fault?" John asked me and I ignored him, pretending to be dead. I felt the breath get knocked out of me as something heavy suddenly landed on my stomach. I let out a squeak of surprise and I opened my eyes as I tried to sit up, but I couldn't because one consulting detective was currently sitting on my stomach.

"Get your bony arse off of me!" I told Sherlock with a groan. How could someone so skinny be so damn heavy? Sherlock chuckled down at me, looking comfortable. I grumbled to myself as I struggled to reach for my phone. Sherlock pushed it out of my reach, knowing that I was trying to get it to text Mycroft to call off his brother. "Seriously, Sherlock, you're heavy," I complained and he readjusted his weight so he was sitting on my legs rather than my stomach. This was effective since I couldn't move, but now he was also sitting on my bladder and I had way too much tea to be doing this right now. I propped myself up on my elbows as I stared at the overgrown childish detective. "Get off," I told him as John laughed hysterically as he watched the two of us. Yeah, it would be even more hysterical when I peed on Sherlock.

"I believe she is alive Dr. Watson," Sherlock told John, ignoring me. I sighed and let out an angry sound as I fell back on the couch cushions. Why did he have to be so bloody annoying?!

"I can see that," John chuckled as I flipped the both of them the bird. My phone dinged and Sherlock picked it up, reading the text Mycroft had sent me. I watched as he deleted it with a little smirk on his face.

"Ms. MacKenna, what would my brother say about that ladylike display?" Sherlock asked me putting on a voice that sounded scandalized. I muttered some choice swearwords in multiple languages under my breath before Sherlock finally got off of my legs. I aimed a kick at his arse as he got up, but he got away before my foot could connect with him.

"That's it, I'm going to bed," I told the boys as I got up off the couch and headed for my room. I heard Sherlock chuckling as the sounds of his violin started up, the same song he was playing earlier when I was napping. "You better have tea ready for me in the morning if you expect me to get up," I called back to them before I slipped into my bedroom after a quick stop in the bathroom. I grumbled to myself for a few more minutes as I stomped around my room and pulled on my night clothes. I slid into bed and threw my quilt over my head and punched my pillow, baling it up under my head. My anger slowly faded away as I started to fall asleep to the comforting sounds of Sherlock's violin. For that night at least I didn't have any night mares.


	21. Love Runs Deeper

**(A/N) Another chapter for you and a very long one at that! Hope you enjoy that because I really loved this chapter. Crzychigurl343 the part about John actually happens in the next chapter when I checked, but Sherlock's reaction is right at the beginning. Can't wait for you to read that. Oh my stars I had chills rereading it. See you back here next Sunday, I think that will be the conclusion of this case and then on to the next one, The Long Fuse, where some interesting stuff happens that I added in and the case changes a lot. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen- Love Runs Deeper<strong>

**"Because it is my desire. Is that not enough?"**

**[Sherlock Holmes on his _raison d'être_.]" **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Adventure of the Dying Detective<em>**

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock was the first to wake up that morning in Baker Street. He rarely slept on a case but he had laid down the night before meaning only to rest and he had fallen asleep. He felt weak and disgusted that he had given into his body's needs. Everything else was transport but his transport had failed him. The consulting detective pulled himself from his bed grimacing as he found himself still in his trousers and button down shirt he had been wearing the day before. He set his bare feet down on the cold floor boards and shivered slightly. He crossed over to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of trousers and his purple button down shirt. He gabbed some socks and pants from his dresser before he padded out of his room, closing his door quietly. His gaze flicked briefly to Lexi's bedroom door and he paused hearing nothing from her room that indicated she was awake. He made his way to the bathroom and turned the shower on. He waited the inexcusable amount of time for the water to warm up before he divested himself of his clothes and stepped into the shower. He hissed for a second as his body adjusted to the hot water before he sighed in contentment. Sherlock exposed his face to the spray, letting the water cleanse his face before he dipped his head under the water.

He reached for his shampoo which was right beside Lexi's now and he squirted a bit onto his palm before he massaged it into his hair. He winced slightly as the action pulled on his curls. His hair follicles were very sensitive and it ever since his childhood he had well managed his hair to keep it from tangling. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair before he reached for his body wash and quickly scrubbed himself clean. He shut the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the shower carefully. He took a second towel and roughly dried his hair before he brushed his teeth methodically. Now that his hair was dry enough he worked some hair detangler into his curls before he dried his hair and lightly brushed them with his fingers. He pulled his new clothes on before leaving the bathroom and padding quietly back to his bedroom where he discarded of his used towels and old clothes in the hamper. Now that he was properly washed he had one thing to take care of. Sherlock left his bedroom again, stopping in the hallway and staring at Lexi's bedroom door. He took a deep breath before he reached out and slowly turned Lexi's door knob before pushing her door open slightly. She was lying in a tangle of limps, blankets, and hair and she was very deeply asleep by the looks of it. Sherlock smirked slightly before he closed her door and paused for a moment in thought before he walked through the kitchen to the living room. He retrieved his phone from the coffee table in order to make his very important call.

He held his phone up to his ear and waited as his mobile rang. Soon the unmistakeable click of someone answering the phone was heard. "Ah brother mine, this is a rare occurrence. What can I do for you?" Mycroft said as Sherlock gritted his teeth over how smug his brother sounded.

"Stay out of my business," Sherlock spat at his brother. After Lexi had returned home and had told him exactly what Mycroft had wanted his first feeling had been one of fear, fear that Lexi would listen to his brother and leave. He had grown accustomed to her presence in the flat and her help on cases. The rational part of his brain told him that whether she was there or not he would still have John, would still solve cases, and nothing would change without her. He was wrong though, everything would change. There was just something about being reassured of her being in the flat, even if she stole his chair. The fact though that she had told him she was staying, the Mycroft didn't control her...that surprised him. He would have expected her to listen to his brother or want to leave herself. He knew he wasn't an easy man to live with and John was already not happy with him, but she wanted to stay and that made Sherlock...happy. Most times he quelled his emotions, caring wasn't an advantage, Mycroft had beat that into him since his childhood and it had been proven time and time again, but Lexi was proving that it didn't have to be a disadvantage either. With her, he was starting to feel which was dangerous and exciting at the same time.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you are talking about," Mycroft said coolly and Sherlock's grip tightened around his mobile as if it was Mycroft's neck. His brother had to stick his nose into everything and ruin everything for him. He was not going to ruin this. Not going to ruin Lexi for him. She was his. His friend, his flatmate, and his colleague and his brother could bugger off.

"You know what I mean," Sherlock growled in response. "You tried to get Lexi to move out. No doubt you tried to order her to move out, not that she would ever listen to you. Stay out of my life and leave her alone Mycroft."

"I will do what I think is best for her Sherlock. You're not the only one that cares about her. You are not what she needs," Mycroft told him coldly and Sherlock growled again. Not what she needed? He was everything she needed! She needed thrill, adventure, cases, all things Mycroft couldn't offer her.

"I met what I said Mycroft," Sherlock said equally as cold as he spat out Mycroft's name. "Leave her alone and stay out of my business," Sherlock finished before he hung up on his brother. Sherlock would not give him a warning again. He was not going to lose Lexi to his brother or to anyone else. Now all head had to do was wait until she and their army doctor woke up before they could get back into the case. Dull.

**Lexi's POV**

I woke up the next morning, spitting my hair out of my face as I sat up in bed. The early morning light was streaming through my window and I pulled myself upright, groaning as I did so. I got out of bed and stretched out all of the kinks from the night before padding barefoot out of my bedroom and down towards the kitchen. I needed tea, pronto. Sherlock was in the living room on his laptop and he looked up at me briefly as I entered the kitchen. John was already in there, making three cups of tea. Bless him, he should be sainted. I took that thought back as soon as I remembered the events of the night before.

"Oh, good morning," John said as he looked over his shoulder at me. "Look, sorry about last night…," He began before I made a stop talking sign with my hand and stared pointedly at the tea mug in his hand. He passed it over to me and I took it from him, taking a long sip before sighing and smiling in delight. Just what I needed.

"Now you can talk," I told him as I took another sip of my tea. John chuckled at me as I moved past him with my mug and popped some bread in the toaster. I raised a questioning eyebrow at John, a silent question if he wanted some toast. He nodded and I added two slices to the toaster for him before setting my mug down on the counter and going to retrieve the jam from the fridge.

"Again, sorry about last night," John told me and I grunted at him in reply, still half asleep

"It's fine, just don't make a habit of it," I told John before the sound of my phone cut through the flat. I sighed and headed towards the living room. Sherlock had my phone in is hand and stony expression on his face and I gestured for him to hand it over. He gave it to me and I unlocked it, already knowing by the ringtone that it was Mycroft. (**A/N His ringtone is Bad Day by Daniel Powter) **"Croft," I answered it just as John came out of the kitchen carrying my tea mug and plate of jammy bread. I grinned at him as he handed them over to me and I sat down on the couch, biting into my toast.

"My brother and you seem to be getting along," Mycroft said sounding amused as he was no doubt reviewing the CCTV footage from the night before. That or he was rather smug about something.

"Not talking about that. Too early," I told him as I took another sip of my tea. The one thing I hated about working cases again was the actual need to get out of bed again. "Unless you have something else to tell me, I'm hanging up," I warned him and he chuckled in response to my threat.

"Have a nice day, Lexi," Mycroft told me before the phone disconnected. I growled at my phone and Mycroft's smugness before throwing my phone into the couch cushions. I chewed on another bite of my jammy toast as I closed my eyes, trying to wake up.

"Once you're done with that, go and get dressed. Lestrade already told me that he got everyone together for the interrogations this morning," Sherlock told me and I opened one eye at him, grunting to let him know that I had heard him. I finished my tea and toast and put my dishes in the sink before heading to my room. I picked out a purple, silk button up sleeveless shirt that went with the button up Sherlock was wearing today and a white pleated skirt. I grabbed a pair of black tights and then I padded into the bathroom, starting the shower as I combed through my hair to get the worst of the knots out. I jumped in the shower, washing my hair with my apple scented shampoo and then cleaning myself hurriedly with my lavender and ylang-ylang body wash. Once I was finished, I turned off the water and slipped out of the shower, wrapping my towel tightly around me. I squeezed as much water out of my hair as possible before drying it hurriedly.

I pulled on my clothes, tucking my shirt into my skirt before I collected my towel and clothes and padded back into my bedroom. I put on my black ankle boots and then headed back into the living room where John and Sherlock were already ready to head out. It was so wrong how men got ready faster than women. They didn't have nearly as many problems as we did. I got my phone and threw it into my case bag as Sherlock and John got up from their respective spots in their chairs with their laptops. It seemed so normal, this routine we had settled into lately. I grabbed my coat and slipped it on, before pulling my scarf on tight around my neck. The three of us shared a look before we trailed out of the flat. Time to get back to the case.

"Woohoo, off out?" Mrs. Hudson asked us as she came out of her flat and immediately pulled Sherlock into a tight hug. She let him go and pulled me in for one next. I smiled and returned her hug. I absolutely adored Mrs. Hudson. She claimed she was just our landlady and not our housekeeper but I knew that she went up to our flat while we were out and cleaned up a bit. She even did our laundry.

"Case Mrs. Hudson. Very important. We're wasting time actually. Lexi, come on," Sherlock told her impatiently as she hugged John who smiled back at her. I smacked Sherlock on the arm as I turned back to Mrs. Hudson with a smile.

"Bit of a case yeah. How's the hip?" I asked her as Sherlock inched towards the door. I pulled him back, still smiling brightly at our landlady. He wasn't getting away that easily. This was payback for sitting on me.

"Oh, it's fine dear. Could be better, but I can't complain. Do you know when you dears are going to be back? I was thinking of making a casserole later on," Mrs. Hudson continued on as John smirked as he watched Sherlock who was rolling his eyes, irritated that I was forcing him to wait.

"Not sure, when we'll be back in. That would be nice though, thank you," I told Mrs. Hudson as I pushed Sherlock towards the door. He all but ran to it as he opened it and bolted outside. "Probably should catch up to him," I told her as I waved at her and John and I followed Sherlock outside, shutting the door to 221 behind us. Sherlock was already waiting in the cab, fuming slightly. I smirked at him as I slid beside him, ignoring the dark look he sent my way. It wasn't so nice when I was doing it to him now was it? John looked worriedly between the both of us as if he was afraid that we were going to have a domestic in the back of the cab. Sherlock barked our destination to the cabbie who seemed to get that Sherlock was in a bad mood. I had never seen a cabbie willingly speed until that moment.

Our cab ride to the hospital took us about fifteen minutes, a record. The cabbie looked relieved as soon as Sherlock got out of the cab and stalked off towards the hospital. I giggled and passed a fifty pound note to the cabbie. That more than paid for the cab ride and gave him quiet a nice tip. He looked at me in surprise as I darted out of the cab with John in tow, dragging him with me into the hospital. I walked arm and arm with him to the lifts. We got there just as the door was closing and managed to dart inside. We stood off in the corner together as the janitor stood on the other side of the lift with his cleaning cart. He looked over at me, eyeing me. I grinned at him sheepishly as I remembered what I had done to him the day before. The three of us stared at each other in awkward silence before I decided to say something to the guy.

"Umm, about yesterday, I got a bit carried away. Sorry about that," I apologized as the janitor continued to stare back at me. The lift dinged and the doors opened as we reached the floor he needed to get off at.

"It's alright," He told me as he pushed his cart out of the lift. He stopped just outside the doors and reached into the lift, hitting every button for the floors in between the one we needed to get to before he pushed his cart off and the lift doors closed. I sighed and looked at John who shook his head at me ruefully.

"I know, I know," I told John as we were forced to stop at every floor before we could finally get out on the seventh floor where Lestrade was meeting us to interrogate our suspects. We got out of the lift, joining Sherlock who was waiting with Lestrade in the conference room that was at our disposal for the day.

"There you two are, what took so long?" Lestrade asked me and I gave him a look that said not to ask. I let go of John's hand and went to sit on one of the chairs at the end of the long oval table, propping my boots up onto the edge of the table, disregarding the look Lestrade gave me for doing so.

"Lexi pissed of a janitor who decided to make us stop on every floor in retaliation," John told Lestrade with a grin. Lestrade shook his head at me in exasperation and I just shrugged back at him. It wasn't my fault, I tried to apologize.

"Oi, I tried to apologize," I grumbled as Sherlock lost his patience.

"Thank you for the riveting story, but we have twenty-three suspects to interview," Sherlock told me before turning back to Lestrade. "Can we start now?" He asked him impatiently. I raised an eyebrow at that. Would it kill him to take a chill pill?

"In a minute," Lestrade assured him before looking back at us. "We cross referenced time cards to identify men who were working on the days of the murders, then eliminated those who didn't have access to the floors where the deaths occurred," Lestrade explained to John, figuring Sherlock and I wouldn't have. John nodded in understanding as did I. I had gone to bed and left it up to Sherlock to contact Lestrade. Right now, I was happy to just be along for the ride. Lestrade got up to get the first suspect to interview and I shot up as an idea suddenly hit me.

"Sherlock, do you have this? I need to step out for a bit," I asked Sherlock as I got to my feet and skipped over to the door.

"What? Yes, do whatever you like," Sherlock told me dismissively, waving his hand around as he sat down and adopted his prayer pose as he waited for Lestrade to bring in the first suspect.

"Dangerous words," I warned him with a grin as I opened the door. "John, I need to borrow you," I told the army doctor who stared at me in confusion before shaking his head and complying with my request. He followed me out of the conference room and down the hallway as I led him towards Dr. Green's office. It surprised me that Sherlock never thought to interview him first.

"What are we doing?" John asked me as I knocked on the doctor's office door and waited for a response.

"Something didn't sit right with me about what Dr. Green said yesterday. I'm acting on instinct. An army doctor is always nice to have when interviewing someone. Not everyone takes me seriously since I'm a woman," I told John as we were told to come in. I opened the doctor's office door and found him sitting behind his desk. He put the paperwork down that h was working on as we entered his office.

"Detective, how can I help you this time? I thought you were supposed to be conducting your interviews?" He asked me with a raised eyebrow as John and I stood in front of his desk. I straightened up to my full height, my playfulness gone as I adopted my professional attitude.

"I figured I would start with you first," I told the doctor who smiled back at me bewildered.

"With me? You serious? I was the one who got you access to those files."

"You're right, you are. Calculated risk. It was the perfect way to deflect suspicion if Sherlock and I eventually got access to them," I told him with a definitive nod as John stood beside me, watching everything unfold as he waited to see if I needed a hand.

"Okay, if you say so," The doctor told me with a laugh. I knew what he thought. I was just a woman and I didn't know what I was talking about. It was because I was a woman that I knew exactly what I was talking about though. If something bothered me, I couldn't just leave it alone. I had to go poke it with a stick. Call it a woman's intuition or a hunch, but sometimes I just got this nagging feeling to check something out to its fullest capacity when I was working a case.

"By now, I'm sure that you've realize that three of the nine victims that Sherlock and I believe fell victim to the angel were yours. Coincidence? Maybe, but I never ignore a coincidence unless I'm busy which I am sorry to say for you that I'm not right now," I told the doctor, not willing to back down. Sherlock could take the interviews on his own for now. I needed to be sure about this guy.

"Uh, actually, it's not really a coincidence. According to you and Mr. Holmes, the angel kills severely ill patients. I operate on the sickest people we've got."

"Still, your practice shows a certain casual attitude towards life and death," I pointed out before continuing. "Your mortality rates go up each year."

"That's because I take on patients that no one else will treat," The doctor argued back and I shook my head. It wasn't just about that.

"Last year, the hospital forced you to stop performing an experimental procedure when you racked up a seventy-five percent failure rate," I shot back, remembering the report I had read over the night before that had been with the rest of the records we had gotten from the hospital. This is where my good memory came into use.

"There are risks associated with innovation," The doctor told me defensively and I snorted at him. Yeah, seventy-five percent failure rates were considered an innovation.

"Lawsuits among them I can imagine," John said speaking up for the first time. The doctor turned his gaze onto him but John stood his ground, raising an eyebrow back at him. Good job John, exactly why I wanted you with me.

"John's right, among your failures were two fatalities each of which cost the hospital several million pounds when the families sued. You've been on an unofficial probation since then. One mistake and you're gone from Chelsea and Westminster Hospital complete with a recommendation to suspend your licence. Maybe you started killing patients as a way of punishing the hospital for losing faith in you or perhaps you just wanted to feel like God again," I accused him. I wanted to put a little fire under him and see how he reacted. An innocent man and a man with something to hide had two completely different reactions.

"Do you really want to know why I'm not the killer you're looking for?" The doctor asked us and I nodded exaggeratedly, having had far enough of his attitude. "This angel, if he exists, kills people who are in pain. It's a mission of mercy. Me? I'm a surgeon. My favourite kind of patient is unconscious on a table with a tube down his throat. These people, to be honest?" The doctor continued as he shrugged at the both of us. "I'm not really interested in whether they're suffering or not. It doesn't really affect me and that's what makes me exceptional at what I do."

I snorted at that response. This guy was a world class arsehole. I was calling it. I didn't like him. John didn't seem too happy about this response either and I couldn't blame him. He was a doctor, an army doctor. He had probably seen many good men die and some of them had probably died on his operating table. If anyone was going to have a problem with this doctor's complete lack of caring about his patients it was going to be John. The only good part for me was that it meant John wasn't happy and when he wasn't happy, he definitely showed it.

"So what you're trying to say is that you're too indifferent to your patients to be the angel of death?" John asked him cocking his head to his side and clenching his fist down by his sides. Yup, the doctor had pissed John off big time. He just shrugged in response to John's question.

"That's a novel alibi," I said sarcastically as I put a hand on John's arm. He relaxed under my touch and I rubbed his arm absentmindedly to calm him down. As much as I would love to punch Dr. Green like I often wanted to with Anderson, I didn't feel like breaking my other hand or getting John booked for assault either. I was going to try and last a little longer without getting us into more trouble. The doctor smirked at John and me and swaggered closer to us as John looked up at the taller man, glaring.

"Well there's also the fact that, ah, at the time that Mr. Kelty was killed, yesterday, I was on a train. From my home in Bristol. But I need to get back to work. And it seems like you do too," The doctor told us dismissively. He was a bad guy, a very bad guy. He might not be our killer, but I still didn't like him. I tugged on John's arm and pulled the glaring army doctor out of the office. He ran a hand down his face and pointed back at the closed office door before rounding on me.

"What did that accomplish?" John asked me as he pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand on his hip. No wonder people thought he was gay, he was all attitude.

"Well, besides proving he is a world class arsehole like I thought, nothing. He has an alibi so no matter how much of an arse and creep he is, he isn't our killer," I told John as I ran my good hand through my hair. "Let's get back to Sherlock and see what he's got. I'm sorry I dragged you into that. It was a dead end lead," I apologized to John as we turned around and headed back to the conference room.

"No, I'm glad you brought me along," John assured me as we walked the hall together. We got back to the conference room just as Lestrade was showing one of the suspects out who looked frazzled. Sherlock was pacing the length of the back of the room and I was certain that the suspect's distress was caused by him. He could get cranky when he wasn't getting his way. Lestrade looked relieved that we were back and I went and took a seat next to Sherlock as John opted to stand behind me again with his hands on the back of my chair. It was a sort of protective gesture and I couldn't help but feel touched that he was looking out for me. I smiled up at him from my seat and he looked down at me with an amused expression.

"Did your interrogation of Dr. Green provide any useful information?" Sherlock asked me suddenly as he opened his eyes and seemed to register that John and I had returned. I snorted in irritation and crossed my arms.

"No, besides proving he's an arse. He had an alibi," I told Sherlock not even surprised that he knew where we went. That answered my question, he had known it wasn't going to get us anywhere which is why he hadn't interviewed him himself. It would have been nice if he had told me that but I wasn't too bothered that he hadn't. I wasn't always going to rely on Sherlock for leads. He wasn't always right and neither was I which was why we had to work together.

Sherlock made a noncommental sound as Lestrade brought in the next interview. They both took a seat before the interviews continued. "Dr. Cahill, you a surgical resident here at the hospital. We'd like to ask you a few questions about some patients who died here in the hospital. Do you recognize any of these people?" Lestrade asked the man as he spread out the nine files in front of him.

The man, Cahill, pulled the files closer looking over them quickly before looking up at Lestrade in confusion. His eyes flickered to Sherlock, John, and I before they settled back on Lestrade. "I'm afraid I'm a little confused, Detective Inspector. Most of the people you're asking me about weren't even my patients," He told us tiredly. From his blood shot eyes and nervous twitching I deduced that he was sleep deprived. He had probably been working a long shift, maybe two.

"All nine of them died of cardiac events while you were on shift," Lestrade told him as Sherlock and I observed the proceedings.

"Wow, nine sick people died in a hospital," Cahill told him sarcastically.

"You assisted in several of their operations," Lestrade pointed out, not taking his shit. You tell him Lestrade, I thought as I tried to hide my grin. I loved when Lestrade didn't take any shit and used his authority.

"Yes, I'm a surgical resident. I'm involved in lots of surgeries. Look. I have been on call for the last twenty-nine hours. Haven't slept, barely eaten, and still have an hour drive home. So… is there anything else I can help you with?" Cahill asked us as he sighed and rubbed at his face. I noticed that he kept tapping his keychain against the table.

Lestrade eyed him, not missing his tapping. He looked at it and then up at me with a raised eyebrow. I made a little shrug with my shoulders before he turned back and pulled a manila folder from the stack and spread it open in front of Cahill. "Yeah, this guy right here, name's Romano, had pancreatic cancer," Lestrade said as Cahill pulled the file towards him and leaned over to look at it. "One of the worst forms there is. I know, 'cos that's what killed my grandmother," Lestrade continued and Cahill looked up at him. Sherlock and I both turned to Lestrade. What was he doing? I folded my arms on the table and smashed my head down on them. I couldn't even look up at them. "Sometimes I wish… I wish there had been someone there with the strength to, ah, end her pain," Lestrade finished as I groaned. I could feel everyone's eyes turn to me. I looked up sheepishly and met their gaze before shrugging and sitting back in my chair.

Cahill turned back to the folder, looking at it for a second longer before looking up in surprise. "You think someone killed this man. The other patients, too?" He asked us as Sherlock nodded with over exaggerated bobs of his head.

"He does. That's why he's trying to gain your confidence. Suggest to you that he's on your side. That he actually empathizes with someone who would take a life for the right reasons. But he's wasting his time. You're free to go," Sherlock told him dismissively. Cahill looked towards Lestrade who nodded at him and gestured for him to leave. He stood and left the room, glancing back at us as he closed the door behind him.

Lestrade leaned back in his chair and glared at Sherlock. "You wanna tell me why you did that?" He asked him with raised eyebrow as he threw a quizzical look in my direction. I didn't know what to tell him, I didn't control what Sherlock did.

"Because it's highly unlikely that he's our angel," Sherlock shot back as he closed his eyes and sat back in his chair in his prayer position.

"That guy was so nervous he was about to come out of his skin. You saw how he was tapping his keychain," Lestrade pointed out, huffing in irritation.

"I also saw how he stopped tapping when he realized the only reason he was called in here was because of the patient deaths. Suddenly he relaxed. His tapping stopped," Sherlock told him, opening one eye lazily as his gaze darted over me, deducing me or trying to yet again. I stare back at him passively.

"Which means, even if he is a git, he's probably not our killer," Lestrade sighed as he sat up and forward in his chair, flipping through the files again.

"And given the number of suspects we still have left to question…," Sherlock told him as he closed his eye again, apparently satisfied with what he found for the time being.

"I'll bring in the next interview," Lestrade told him as he got up from his chair. I looked up at John and we shared a long look. This was going to take a while and it was going to be interesting to see if we all lived through it. Lestrade already looked ready to strangle Sherlock.

Several hours later, the three of us were finally walking out of the hospital, the interviews finally over. They had went reasonably well. Lestrade and Sherlock only had three angry outburst which I decided was a small victory. John and I had past the time in the back corner chatting quietly. I was letting Sherlock handle the interviews. Just because I was working the case with him didn't mean I couldn't take the occasional break. Sometimes my brain need to shut down and reboot, besides, he just looked so happy interrogating people. I couldn't interfere with that now could I? John told me more about his sister Harry and their whole arguments. Then, we swapped war stories, his from his time in the military and me from my old cases. We were dying of laughter in the corner before long and the more looks Sherlock and Lestrade sent in our direction, the harder it was to keep it all in. By the end of the day, John was sitting with me, his arm swung around my shoulders as we leaned against the glass of the window like we were old friends. Sherlock was in a bad mood as we left the hospital which was evident by the fact that he turned up his coat collar. As soon as John and I watched him doing it we rolled our eyes in unison.

"We'll that didn't take long at all," John joked as we linked arms and the doctor and I set off after Sherlock who was heading off into the parking lot on the side of the hospital.

"It's what happens when you fail to turn up a single solid lead," Sherlock bit back and I shook my head at him before resting my shoulder on John's shoulder.

"No one jumped out at you?" John asked him sounding surprised by this fact.

"Mm-mm," Sherlock told him shaking his head and looking less irritated and more annoyed with the fact that he hadn't found anyone.

"I still don't like Dr. Green. Something just didn't sit right with me when we were talking with him. He has an alibi yeah, but something tells me that he had some part in this. I just don' know what," I told the boys, sighing in frustration. John squeezed my hand comfortingly and I looked up at him with a little grin on my face. John was becoming like my second big brother.

"Then hold the course. Myriad studies have shown that first instincts are typically the right ones," Sherlock told me as he glanced over his shoulder and John and me, surprising me by the fact that he hadn't told me I was just being stupid for listening to my instincts. I would have thought he would have said the same things about instincts as he had luck. That only idiots relied on it. Sherlock stopped walking suddenly and stared at something over John and my shoulders.

"What? What is it?" John asked him as John and I turned around, Sherlock walking forward towards one of the cars parked just behind us.

"That car," Sherlock told us as he stopped behind it and looked over the back of it before walking around the car, deducing what he could from it. "I think it belongs to one of our suspects. Dr. Cahill. The London Irish sticker on the bumper," Sherlock pointed out to us as he did another turn around the car. (**A/N It's a rugby team**.) "It matches the one on his car key and his car key said his car was a Nissan."

"Okay, so that's his car. What about it?" John aske Sherlock in exasperation not getting where he was going with this. I did however pick up what he meant.

"Lestrade thought he was a solid suspect for the angel if you recall. I disagreed. However, as of five hours ago Dr. Cahill wrapped up a thirty-hour shift. Said he was going to go home and sleep. Legally, he's not allowed to set foot in the hospital for another six hours," Sherlock pointed out as he turned back to us and raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"When I worked a case for that long before, I couldn't get out of the Yard fast enough," I told Sherlock as I ran my hand through my hair. That many hours of working, you would expect someone to head right home, especially someone who seemed so sleep deprived as he had.

"So what's his car still doing in the parking lot?" Sherlock asked us as he turned around and started heading back towards the hospital. John sighed in exasperation as we followed after him.

We followed Sherlock back inside the hospital and up to the fourth floor where Dr. Cahill worked his shifts. We alerted hospital security on our way up and they followed us upstairs. If he was still here, we had a good chance of finding him. I asked one of the nurses if he was still on shift and she told me that he had gone home. That didn't seem right so Sherlock, John, and I started looking through the patient rooms as the security helped us in our search. If he was our angel, then that was where we would find him. We found him in a room where an elderly woman was sleeping, connected to vital machines. I grimaced, thinking of Mrs. Hudson. We watched as Cahill stood with his back to the door, pulling the IV and holding a syringe to it to collect the fluid. We didn't waste time, bursting through the door and entering loudly.

"Dr. Cahill, we meet again!" Sherlock said as he strode into the room looking rather formidable.

Cahill turned, straightening quickly as he tried to hide the syringe behind him. "What—what the hell is this?" He demanded as the security guards came in and grabbed him. "Hey—what—what do you think you're doing—?"

"Hands behind your back," One of the security guards ordered him before they lead him out of the room and down the hall where he would be detained until Lestrade got there to pick him up.

"—hands off of me. You're making a mistake! I was examining the patient!" Cahill insisted as Sherlock rubbed his chin methodically"

"Sherlock. I don't think he's the angel," John said as he pointed to the floor where Cahill had dropped the syringe. "There's no epinephrine in that syringe. It's empty," He continued as he pointed to the machinery. "That's a PCA machine. It dispenses morphine. That's what he was in here for. He was trying to steal it," John finished as Sherlock looked back at me and we shared a look. Well that was interesting. Wasn't what we were looking for, but we had followed up on Lestrade's gut instinct from earlier.

"So we didn't catch the angel. We caught an addict," I said as the three of us looked at each other. We turned around and started walking downstairs to meet with Lestrade. We were no closer to finding our angle now than when we had started. The longer it went without us finding him, the longer he was stalking the halls, looking for his next victim. We wrapped up everything with Lestrade and then hailed a cab back to Baker Street. The three of us trudged up the stairs to the flat. Mrs. Hudson emerged from flat A and followed the three of us up to our flat, Sherlock and John falling into the respective chairs as I perched on the arm of John's chair.

"Bad day dears?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she stood near John's chair and looked over the three of us with a mothering eye. I reached up and patted the arm that she put on my shoulder.

"Yeah, we didn't find our killer," I told her as Sherlock picked up his violin and started plucking at the strings. John sighed and rubbed his face as his phone vibrated alerting him to a text.

"Oh that's perfect," John exclaimed as he read the text. Sherlock stopped for a second, regarding him before continuing with his annoying plucking.

"Problem dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked him as I looked across to John who didn't look happy.

"Um, no, no problem," John told her and she nodded, not believing him.

"I'll just bring you three up some of that casserole I promised you. You just sit in and relax. Just this once though, I'm not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson told us before disappearing back down to her flat.

"What really is wrong?" I asked John as soon as the older woman had left.

"John's girlfriend is currently headed over to the flat where she will demand that he take her out someplace. I would break it off now, save her the trouble of finding out later that you no longer have interest in dating her," Sherlock told John as he got up and flopped down on the couch, rolling onto his side and adopting the fatal position.

"Yeah, I don't know how to put her down gently though," John admitted sheepishly as he looked at me pleadingly. "She's clingy, I don't know what to tell her."

"I've got this," I assured John as Mrs. Hudson came back up with a tray of the casserole. "Thanks Mrs. Hudson, this smells heavenly," I complimented her as I popped up to take the tray from her.

"Watch out for your hand dear. Oh, I do wish you could have that thing off," Mrs. Hudson cooed over me as I set the tray down on the coffee table. Her mothering did not go unappreciated as she gave me a hug.

"Don't encourage her Mrs. Hudson," John warned as he got up and kissed the older woman on the cheek before taking one of the plates off of the tray. "End of the week, if your nice," John told me as he sat back down in his chair again.

"I'm always nice," I grumbled as I kissed Mrs. Hudson's cheek and took one of the plates and sat in Sherlock's now vacant seat. I dug in, making sounds of appreciation as I bit into the cheesy chicken and rice casserole. It was the simple things in life, like a good home cooked meal that could make anything better. Mrs. Hudson eyed Sherlock's form on the couch and seemed to decide that he wouldn't be moving for a while.

"I'll just leave your plate here Sherlock dear. You three try and relax," Mrs. Hudson told as just as there was a knock on the door down stairs. "Oh, who could that be?" Mrs. Hudson asked us as she moved to get the door. I popped out of my seat quickly and put my plate down on the coffee table as I rushed past the woman and towards the stairs.

"I got it Mrs. Hudson," I told the older woman as I ran past her and dashed down the stairs. I pulled open the door and was met with a tallish brunette dressed up like she was ready for a date in a dress and heels. She smiled until she noticed that it was me and not John. "Hello, who are you?" I asked her acting confused. Operation save Doctor Watson was go.

"I should be asking you that question. Where's John?" She demanded of me, narrowing her eyes as she looked over my figure with distaste.

"I'm Alex. John's upstairs," I told her before turning back around to the stairs, my hand still on the door, blocking her entry. "John, love, there's someone at the door for you," I called up the stairs before turning back to the woman with a grin on my face. She looked absolutely livid at this point. John suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs looking worried and slightly confused.

"Umm, what's going on…love?" John asked me, adding the endearment as an afterthought as he raised an eyebrow at me. "What are you doing?" He hissed at me in a whisper as he passed me and walked to the door.

"Roll with it," I whispered back to him as I put my arm around his waist, looking like the perfect couple. He looked at me in surprise at the sudden action before wrapping his arm around my waist, playing along. Jackie was fuming mad at this point and she stomped her foot as she looked at John as if looks could kill.

"John, what's going on? Who is she?" Jackie demanded her voice raising up an octave.

"Umm, she's…," John began sheepishly before I cut him off as I laid my other hand against his chest.

"I'm his girlfriend," I told Jackie who looked stunned.

"Your girlfriend? And what am I?" Jackie asked John sounding scandalized.

"It wasn't working for me?" John offered up, his words sounding like a question as he looked to me for help.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Johnny's just so nice, he didn't know how to tell you," I told Jackie as I leaned and pressed a kiss to John's cheek. Jackie stepped forward like she was going to hit one or both of us. I narrowed my eyes at her, my posture changing so it was a little more threatening and a whole lot less like the caring girlfriend.

"You're an arsehole," Jackie spat and John before looking at me. "Slut," She threw at me before she turned around and stormed off back down Baker Street.

"May the road rise up to kick you in the arse!" I called after her as I stepped back, removing my arm from John's waist before slamming the door shut. I turned around with a grin on my face as John stood there looking dumbfounded. "Well that's taken care of," I told John as I patted him on the shoulder and headed back up to the flat. Mrs. Hudson was tittering on about something as Sherlock tried to sink further into the couch away from her.

"Thanks for that," John told me as he came up the stairs behind me looking slightly bewildered still. "What you did, um thanks," John told me awkwardly as I gave him a one armed hug.

"No problem, happy to help. Now to rescue Sherlock," I told John as I walked back into the living room and over to Mrs. Hudson giving the woman a hug. "Thanks for bring over the casserole, it was lovely Mrs. Hudson. Why don't you go downstairs and rest your hip," I suggested as I led her towards the door.

"Oh, that sounds nice dear," She said as she patted my cheek affectionately. "You're good for the boys you know, especially Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson told me as she looked back at the consulting detective who was sulking on the couch and John who had taken up residence in his chair again.

"I know," I told her with a grin, kissing her cheek before she left us. I clapped my hands together before walking over to the couch and balancing on the arm of it above Sherlock's head. I reached down, brushing his hair out of his eyes as I leaned down to look at him. He glared up at me as he curled in on himself tighter. "She's gone Sherlock," I told him as I continued to card my fingers through his curls. He sighed heavily and turned over onto his back still glaring up at me before he sat up looked at me pointedly. I got the hint and got up, moving away from him. I sat back in Sherlock's chair eyeing my viola longingly.

I stared into the depths of the fireplace as I lost myself inside of my mind. There had to be an answer to this case and it had to be staring at us straight in the face. We just needed to find a new angle than the one we were currently approaching. I hummed La Habanera under my breath as I thought, rolling my head around on my neck as I started going through everything I had read, every file once again. I didn't even realize that Sherlock and John were both watching me with interest as I held my hands up, flicking my wrists every so often as I mental discarded a piece of information. Ugh, why didn't this fit!

"Stupid!" I said as I got up and started pulling sheets of evidence off of where I had them taped to my case board. "I registered his bloodshot eyes, his general twitchiness, but I just chalked them up to sleep deprivation. I should have known what he really was," I growled in frustration as I turned back and threw the papers onto Sherlock's already cluttered desk.

"He was a doctor using morphine on the job and endangering patients. You caught him, that's important. Why are you taking all those down?" John asked me as I turned around and started pacing the length of the living room.

"Because they're no longer suspects," I told John as I continued to pace before Sherlock picked up the conversation.

"Your point regarding Dr. Cahill would be quite heartening, if his drug habit had anything to do with the murderer currently stalking a hospital, a murderer who is likely targeting his next victim as we speak, a murderer I am no closer to identifying than I was this morning," Sherlock snapped out as I turned and looked at him raising one eyebrow.

"That we're no closer to identifying," I reminded him. We stared back at each other for a long moment before he made a slight relenting nod of his head.

"You met twenty-three people in one day. Maybe you missed something," John said as I stepped to the other side of the room, climbing up onto the couch next to Sherlock and stood, looking at the other papers he had taped above the couch.

"I spent all day soaking in every word, every gesture, every involuntary action of these twenty-three former suspects. Dr. Cahill was the only blip on the radar," Sherlock quipped back as he stood and walked to the window, picking up his violin along the way. Think, think Lexi. I entered the mental room in my mind that was filled with filing cabinets. I only used this method when I really could figure something out.

Nine patients, all dying, the angles preferred victims. _'Eight, eight patients that were his preferred victims,' _Mycroft told me as he walked into my mental room, swinging his umbrella before he took a seat in front of me. I snapped out of my mind and grinned in triumph as I turned to John and Sherlock who was now playing Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.

"Maybe not the only blip," I told them as I pulled one of the sheets off of the wall and studied it before jumping off the couch as Sherlock stopped playing and turned to me. "All of the angel's victims were terminal. Except one," I told them as I showed Sherlock the page. "Her. Samantha Cropsey. She was the second-to-last victim," I told them as John got up and joined us, looking down at the page as well.

"She was quite sick. She had been in the ICU for two weeks," Sherlock said looking down at her chart before turning around and staring to play the piece again.

"Yeah, but Sherlock, here on her chart. CABG. That's coronary artery bypass graft. She'd had major surgery. She was recovering slowly, but she was recovering. She wasn't gonna die," John told him catching on to what I had found. Unlike the rest of the angle's victims Ms. Cropsy was the only one that had a chance to survive. So why had the angel deviated from his pattern? You always had to wait for them to make a mistake.

Sherlock turned around and frowned as he looked over the chart again. "So why did the angel make an exception for her?" He asked us as his phone started ringing. He passed me his violin and bow and I set them down as he answered his mobile. "Detective Inspector."

"That druggie doctor we scooped up at the hospital tonight? He's talking. A lot. Turns out he might be able to help us find the angel after all," I heard Lestrade tell him through the phone.

"We'll head over there now," Sherlock assured him as he hung up and looked back at us. "Get your coats, we're needed down at the Yard," He told us as he strode past the two of us and started pulling on his coat and scarf.

"Get ready for a long night," I warned John as I followed Sherlock to the door and let Sherlock help me put my jacket back on, pulling it over my cast and then slinging on my scarf. We headed down the stairs and out into the cold London night air. Sherlock hailed a cab and we piled inside before driving off into the night, ready to catch the angle that had fallen from on high.

The cab ride over to the Yard was a silent affair. It was late and I could really go for a good cup of tea and my warm bed. We had a druggie doctor to interview before I could get either so I wasn't in the best of moods. I leaned against Sherlock's shoulder on the cab ride over. Smiling sleepily when he didn't push me off. John smiled at me knowingly and I just rolled my eyes at him. When we got to the Yard, I paid the cabbie as Sherlock bolted out of the cab leaving John and I behind. I felt bad for John. I knew he didn't have much money of his own. He told Mike his military pension only went so far. Mycroft set up a little account for me and gave me a monthly allowance. I paid him back by taking the occasional case for him since he hated doing leg work. We walked up to Lestrade's division and John and I linked arms as we walked past Anderson and Donovan who sneered at me. I rolled my eyes at John and shook my head in exasperation as I led him to Lestrade's office where Sherlock was already pacing.

"Good, we can start now," Lestrade told us as he saw John and me. I yawned and Lestrade chuckled. "We'll finish soon, don't worry," Lestrade assured me as he got up from behind his desk and the three of us followed him to the interrogation room where Cahill was waiting. John opted to wait in the side room watching through the one way glass as Sherlock and I followed Lestrade into the room.

Lestrade took a seat in front of Cahill, setting his jaw. He was going for the tough guy approach. "So, Dr. Cahill, would you like to tell the detectives what you told me?" Lestrade asked him as Sherlock took a seat on the other chair. I hopped up onto the table, sitting next to Sherlock as I swung my feet over the edge of the table.

"By the time I get out of surgery, I'm… wiped out and keyed up, all at the same time. I can't sleep without the morphine," Cahill told us, staring at me slightly as I kicked my feet back and forth and watched him closely.

"No, it's not like the patients you're stealing it from need it to deal with their excruciating pain," I told him and they all turned to stare at me. I shrugged at them. "What, that's the truth," I told them, not at all perturbed that they were staring at me.

"I'm telling you this because I want to help!" Cahill told me, sounding angry.

"So help! Tell them what you told me," Lestrade told him impatiently.

"Alright," Cahill said sighing reluctantly. "A couple months ago, I snuck into a patient's room. Older guy. End-stage liver cancer, I knew he'd have morphine."

"Sutter, angel victim number seven," Lestrade told us as he opened a folder and slid it in front of Sherlock and I. He looked down at it, but didn't make any comment.

"Once I got the morphine out of the PCA, I… ducked into the bathroom to…," Cahill mumbled before Sherlock cut him off.

"I believe the words you are looking for are 'shoot' and 'up.'"

Cahill nodded at us sheepishly. If anyone was going to have no tolerance for a druggie, it was going to be us. "And, uh, once I got myself together to leave, I realized that someone was coming into the room," He told us with a shrug.

"Did you see his face?" I asked Cahill as I raised an eyebrow.

"No," He told us shaking his head. "I hid out in the bathroom the whole time. They talked for like an hour. Ah, I didn't recognize the guy's voice, but he was definitely a doctor. Talked a lot about medicine."

"Were they discussing Sutter's condition?" Sherlock asked him, folding his hands in his prayer pose in front of his lips.

"Yeah, yeah. The doctor explained how the cancer was shutting down his liver, how the, ah, the toxins would slowly build up in his body. Really, you know, laid it all out for the guy. I could tell it wasn't the first time talking about it. The doctor knew that the patient didn't have that much in the way of family. And the next day, died of a heart attack. I didn't think anything of it."

"Except that you'd need to find a new source for your morphine," Lestrade commented. Sherlock and I looked at him briefly before we turned back to Cahill.

"And when you and the detectives asked about an angel of death, it got me wondering. Didn't know how to tell you what I'd heard without explaining why I was in that patient's bathroom," Cahill told us haltingly.

"Nothing like getting caught to help one grow a conscience," Lestrade commented, grinding his teeth together. I knew he really didn't like the guy and I couldn't blame him.

The three of us got up, walking out of the interrogation room just as John stepped out to join us. "We're back on track, John," Sherlock said as we started down the hall. "Dr. Cahill described a doctor with an approach identical to the one described by the neighbour who had been visiting Trent Kelty."

"He talked to his victims, gets to know them before he kills them," John said realizing what we had figured out.

"Finally, our theoretical angel has proved real," Sherlock said smiling triumphantly.

"Baker Street?" I asked him hopefully. He nodded and we left the Yard, piling into the back of a cab. As soon as we got back to the flat, I bolted out of the cab as quickly as possible, leaving Sherlock and John behind as I unlocked the front door and darted up stairs. "Night!" I called out to the boys as I scampered into my bedroom. I was not getting pulled into any more case work before I got some more sleep. I heard John call a goodnight to me and Sherlock just grunted. I threw on some sweatpants and the grey shirt that Sherlock had given me on my first night in the flat before I hurried into the bathroom and brushed my hair and teeth. I walked back into the hall, meeting up with John who was cuing for use of the bathroom. Perfect, I needed him. "Could you put my hair up for me?" I asked him sheepishly as I handed him the brush and the elastic.

"Um sure," John said and I turned around, bending slightly. John gingerly lifted my hair, brushing it back into a pony tail with military precision. "It's really long," John commented, rubbing one of the strands of hair between his fingers. "Why don't you cut it?" He asked me as he finished pulling it back for me.

"I started growing it out seven years ago. I don't know," I said shrugging my shoulders. "I guess I never thought about cutting it," I told him honestly as I popped my brush back in the bathroom. "Night John," I told the shorter man as I patted his shoulder and slipped into my room. I snuggled down under my sheets as the sound of Sherlock's lullaby reached my ears. I smiled into my pillow before falling into a dreamless sleep.

I woke up to the sound of Sherlock loudly playing his violin in the living room. I groaned as I pulled myself out of my bed. I walked over to one of my boxes that I had yet to unpack and pulled out my singlestick. I walked to my bedroom door and stormed into the living room, past John who was cringing as he drank his tea and right up to Sherlock, pointing my singlestick at him threateningly. "Put the violin down!" I ordered him and he raised an eyebrow at me before he stopped playing. "Down!" I told him as John jumped up from his chair.

"How many swords do you have?" John asked me in exasperation as he took my singlestick from me.

"Enough," I told him as I glared at Sherlock for another long moment before brushing past John and heading for the kitchen. I started making some coffee as I grumbled to myself. Why did he have to be so bloody annoying? I stirred two sugar cubes into my coffee, wanting to taste the bitter brew this morning before bring my coffee back into the living room and curling up on the end of the couch.

"Oh, coffee. Going for the strong stuff I see," John joked as I glared at him over the top of my mug. I stuck my tongue out at him as he chuckled. I turned and watched Sherlock who had a pile of papers stacked up on the desk beside him.

"What are you doing?" I asked him curiously. He raised his head, flicking his gaze over in my direction before sighing loudly.

"Taking another look at the hospital records. Dr. Cahill's insights may cast them in a new light," He answered me none the less. "There's more detail, more texture when you look over them a second time. I was right about the angel. As a wise man once said, first instinct, usually the right one," Sherlock told me and I snorted as I got up, taking my coffee with me.

"Will you two be alright by yourselves for a few hours?" I asked them as I looked over my shoulder, heading towards my room to get ready.

"Yeah," John answered me, looking back over his shoulder. "You heading out?' He asked me and I nodded.

"Yeah, I have an errand to run," I told him and he nodded before I headed back to my room.

I grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey tank top before I slipped into the bathroom. I took a quick shower, leaving my hair in its pony tail, knowing I wasn't going to get it up again if I pulled it out. I dried my hair quickly and threw on my clothes before returning to my room. I pulled on my black and white striped jumper and threw on my ankle boots before grabbing my phone and pushing it into my back pocket. I chugged down my coffee, slipping out of my room and leaving my coffee cup in the sink as I made my way to the door and pulled on my coat and scarf. "I should be back in two hours," I told them. John said good bye to me but Sherlock didn't acknowledge that I was leaving. I waved to them over my shoulder before heading down the stairs and out of the flat. I hailed a cab and jumped inside, giving the address to the cabbie and then sitting back to wait. I brought out my phone and texted Mycroft that I was headed out during a lull in the case. He told me that if I needed anything to just text him. I smiled at that, he apparently had forgiven me already. I paid the cabbie and skipped into the tattoo parlour. It was time to get inked once again.

"Alex!" Anthony, the gay tattoo artist who did all my body art cried as soon as he saw me. "You back for another one?" He asked me as he hopped over the counter grinning.

"Yup," I said as he ushered me over to his waiting chair. I pulled off my coat, scarf, and jumper and sat down on the tattooing chair as Anthony moved to get his needles ready.

"What is this one for?" He asked me as he came over and started pulling on gloves as I laid back and moved my strap down my arm so he could tattoo my left collarbone.

"I'm back to working case," I told him with a little grin and he immediately brightened up more.

"Alex! No, shut up. Seriously?" He asked me bouncing up and down with excitement. "Wait did you solve that taxi driver case?' He asked me hurriedly. I laughed at his enthusiasm.

"That wasn't just me," I told him, laughing at that since that was exactly what John had said about invading Afghanistan. "I met another detective and an army doctor. We're sharing a flat, solving crimes. Actually we have a case now. Sherlock was looking over the files again."

"Sherlock as in Sherlock Holmes whom I've heard about before?" Anthony asked me sounding scandalized.

"Um, yeah?" I said rising an eyebrow at his giddy fan boy expression.

"Honey, he is gorgeous! I'm so jealous," Anthony told me, slapping me playfully on the arm. I giggled and rolled my eyes. Yeah, try living with him.

"He's a pain in the arse," I told him and he rolled his eyes at me.

"But he's your pain in the arse," Anthony said wiggling his eyebrows up and down. I gasped and hit him in the arm.

"Anthony! He's not my anything. Maybe a friend. He's actually Mycroft's brother," I told him as I took out my phone and started flicking through my pictures looking for the design I had found.

"Your hunk of a bodyguard?" Anthony asked me and I hit him again as he grinned back at me.

"Eww no, stop that," I told him as I cringed. "Mycroft, no. Now I can't get that out of my head, thanks," I told him as I shuddered.

"I'm just teasing you girl. I know you. Are you sure he isn't yours though?" He asked me again and I shook my head quickly in exasperation.

"Yes, I'm sure," I told him as I handed him over my phone. "That design there," I told him and he nodded before looking back up at me.

"I'll go draw it up," He told me, handing me back my phone. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I knew he was just teasing, but he had to go there. He wouldn't be the first either. Anthony was a great tattoo artist which was why I only trusted him to tattoo me. He came back with the press on outline and sat down in his chair.

"Where do you want it?" He asked me as he grabbed a pompom with alcohol.

"Left collar bone," I directed him and he cleaned the area before putting on the outline.

"Colours?" He asked me as he turned back to pick up his needles.

"Black and green," I told him as I closed my eyes and relaxed. I was used to this by now. I got one tattoo for everything that I felt was really important in my life. Each told a story, and each was a reminder.

"So, Lexi MacKenna is back, what's that like?" Anthony asked me as the buzzing reached my ears and he started tattooing the outline.

"Tiring, this is the first lull we've gotten in the case so far. Sherlock won't sit still, he's starting to drive me insane," I told Anthony sighing as I took a deep breath as he started tattooing over my collarbone.

"Sorry. Huh… that sounds interesting. What about that doctor fellow, your other flatmate?" Anthony asked me, trying to draw my attention away from the pain.

"John? He's great, actually he's really great. He's kind of like a second brother. We joke around with each other, mostly at Sherlock's expense," I told Anthony who grunted as he got into his work. We didn't talk again until he had finished, it took slightly longer than I had expected it too.

"Ta da!" He said as he sat back and dabbed some of the blood away from the design. I looked down at it with a grin. The words "One more onto the breach" were tattooed on my left collarbone along with the Celtic symbol for warrior which looked like an arrow head. The words and symbol were outlined in black and filled in with a Shamrock green.

"I love it! How much do I owe you?" I asked Anthony as he put some bacitracin over it. I swung my legs over the side of the chair as Anthony shook his head at me quickly.

"Nothing honey. You don't owe me anything," Anthony told me as he got up and started clearing away his stuff.

"Anthony, I can't," I told him as I got up and pulled my jumper and coat back on. He waved me off as I put my scarf on.

"Nope, you don't owe me anything. Besides, you are a dream to tattoo," Anthony told me. I watched him before sighing.

"Thanks then," I told him giving him a hug.

"Yup, now keep it clean. You're living with a doctor so you know the drill. If it gets infected get it looked at," Anthony told me as he walked me to the door.

"Aye Aye captain," I saluted him as he mimed kicking me out of the door.

"Get back to your case and flirt with that detective for me!" Anthony told me as he stood with me by the curbing as I hailed a cab.

"Not going to happen," I told him as a cab pulled up to the curb and he opened the door for me.

"Crushing my hopes and dreams. Come back when you're ready for your next one," Anthony told me as I slid into the back of the cab.

"Will do," I assured him before he shut the door for me and headed back inside the shop. "Baker Street," I told the cabbie as I pulled out my phone. I had been gone for a lot longer than two hours. Hopefully Sherlock had found a lead while I was gone.

I stared out at the streets of London and smiled as a few drops of rain fell against the window. I was back and I was never leaving this behind again. This was my life, this was who I was. Sure, Sherlock drove me insane and sure, John wasn't exactly on his best behaviour all of the time either, but I would change it for the world. It wasn't easy living with them, no, but it was never boring. From arguments over experiments to the little moments in the flat, the three of us got along as if it had always been the three of us, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Lexi MacKenna. This case proved that Sherlock and I worked best when we were working together. I looked down at my phone and read the text that Sherlock had sent me. **"Baker Street, come at once if convent. If inconvenient come anyway.-SH"** Those were the words that had be hooked and those were the words that had made my decision for me. Anthony was right, Sherlock was a pain in the arse, but he was my pain in the arse.


	22. The Crooked Kind

**(A/N) OH MY STARS! We hit 100 favourites and over 150 followers. THANK YOU! Thank you so much. You don't know just how much it means to me to see all of you reading my story. I truly cherish every review I get of my work. I wasn't sure how people would react to this story or my take on and OC and you've surprised even me with the feedback and love I have received for this story. A BIG THANK YOU again to everyone. I assure you that this story will be posted weekly with no delays in posts. I've written ahead a lot so you will never once have to worry about me losing my muse and not posting or a late posting. I've just started work on the Great Game and it is shaping up to be very interesting. I'm in it for the long haul, all the way to season four. A new case for you next Sunday. Two more before the Blind Banker. See you next Sunday sweeties. –Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty- The Crooked Kind<strong>

**"This." He threw over a sheet of thick, pink-tinted notepaper which had been lying open upon the table." **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes<em>**

I jumped out of the cab as soon as it slowed to a stop and paid the cabbie before hurrying up to the flat. I flew up the stairs, taking them two even three at a time, interested to see why Sherlock had texted me, calling me back to the flat. I found John on his laptop and Sherlock lying on the couch in his prayer position. It felt like this was our normal routine. I smiled at the domestic scene in front of me, just taking in the living room of the flat for a long moment. From the skull and the bust on the mantle to the cluttered mess that was Sherlock's desk, Baker Street felt like home. I sighed in contentment as I stepped into the flat. Home, home was nice. I had found a home with John and Sherlock.

"I expected you an hour ago," Sherlock said without opening his eyes. I grinned at him as I took off my coat and scarf and hung them up behind the door.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought it would," I told him, wincing slightly as my jumper rubbed against by new tattoo. I would have to be careful about what I wore over the next few days.

"Mmm, tattoo left collar bone," Sherlock said as he opened his eyes and stood up. I pulled my jumper off before I took a seat in Sherlock's chair, throwing the jumper of the back of the chair in the process. "You went back to work, it was only a matter of time before you decided to get another one," He said as he walked up and over the coffee table taking a look at it.

"It's good," John complimented me. I hummed an agreement as Sherlock stare lingered on me for a second longer. He was right, it was only a matter of time until I got my second one. He had deduced that each one meant something to me. I had told him why I had gotten each one. They were all milestones in my life. Sherlock turned around and stalked over to his desk suddenly, taking his eyes off of me.

"Well, while you've been gone, I've made a rather important discovery," Sherlock informed me as he walked back from the desk and handed me an open manila folder.

"Dariya Ruseckas's consent form? Um… she's the fifth victim," I said raising an eyebrow as I read the file before passing it off to John who it appeared Sherlock had waited to share this information with until I had gotten back to the flat.

"Look closely," Sherlock told John as he bent his head over the file.

"It's a standard consent form for an angiogram with contrast. This is the appropriate procedure," John told him, looking up and shaking his head, having not noticed anything wrong with it.

"Note the handwriting. Or rather, the handwritings," Sherlock directed him as John glanced down at it again before passing it back to me to look over. He was right, the handwriting was different. I had missed it upon first inspection, but now it was quite clearly written by two different people. One person wrote in flowing script while the other in a more spikey fashion, the letters darker where they pressed the pen too tightly and the left angle that had been given to the letters indicated a left handed person whereas the first was right handed.

"Oh, there are two different kinds. Dariya printed her name and signed it, but someone else filled out the body of the form," I said as I raised an eyebrow at that. Ruseckas was a very foreign surname. Ukrainian if the origin was anything to go by, so someone had filled out the form for her.

"Exactly," Sherlock said as he stepped forward and pointed out a spot on the form to me. "The nurse who initialled the form here, A.J. It stands for Anichka Jones. Jones I'm assuming is a married name because Anichka is as Ukrainian as it gets. Explains why she filled out the form for Ms. Ruseckas. 'Cos Ms. Ruseckas, born in Ukraine, obviously did not speak enough English to fill it out herself."

"Okay," John said as he creased his eyebrows.

"The killer liked to converse with his victims. Repeatedly and at great length. Getting to know them was clearly part of the process," Sherlock informed us as he took up pacing the length of the living room.

"And he could only have gotten to know her if he spoke Ukrainian," I said as I closed the file and stood up. Sherlock smirked at me looking proud of himself. "So, we just need to check the personnel records for a doctor who knows it."

Sherlock shook his head once in a funny way that cause me to snort. "I already did. There are none," He told me, losing his smile.

"So we have no leads?" I asked him and he nodded his head in confirmation as he sighed in frustration.

Ukrainian, that was very specific. Someone had to stand out, something. I thought through everything I had seen so far while on the case from the very smallest detail. There was one thing that stood out to me. Blue and yellow, colour of the Ukrainian flag. Where had I seen them, where? I ran through a mental list in my head, rolling my shoulders around as I thought. Come on, I had to remember this, but in what context had I seen it.

"What is it?" John asked me and I flicked my eyes open, my train of thought broken. I frowned at him. Where had I seen it?!

"I don't know. Blue and yellow. I remember seeing them. They're the colours of the Ukrainian flag," I told him as I furrowed my brow.

"The janitor, the one you pissed off. His cart, there were rags tied to it, blue and yellow," John told me and I snapped my head towards him. Janitor, proper context, easy to remember. He was right. Those were purposeful though. The rest of his rags were white for cleaning, but these were purposely coloured.

"John you're brilliant!" I cried as I jumped forward and hugged him. "Call Lestrade and have him bring him in," I told Sherlock as I turned around to find he was already on his phone. I grinned as I skipped out of the room and went into my bedroom, throwing my jumper into the closet and shrugged out of my tank top. I put on a white, silk button down shirt with longer sleeves before heading back into the living room.

"They're bringing him in now. He wants us to come down to the Yard," Sherlock told me as he was putting on his coat. He helped me into mine as John got up and pulled on his jacket. Sherlock slung my scarf around my neck and bundled it around me as I grinned at him. Okay, he wasn't always an arse. In just over half an hour, we were at the Yard and the janitor had been brought in. Lestrade told us more about the man and his particulars before leading us back so we could interrogate him. Anderson and Donovan were their lovely selves as ever. I was getting really tired of them and I hadn't even been back for too long. John waited in the side room for us again as Sherlock and I walked into the interrogation room with Lestrade.

"Your lack of accent is quite impressive, Mr. Gura," Sherlock told him as I took up my spot on the table again.

"Thank you. I learned English as a boy," Gura told us as he smiled and nodded his head.

"Hm. If I met you on the street I would never guess you were a native Ukrainian. But at work, well, the tools of your trade gave you away," Sherlock told him also smiling. "Your janitor's cart. You decorated the handle with, ah, blue and yellow rags? Lexi here remembered it. Since all of your cleaning rags were white, she knew that the fabric was deliberately chosen and, as she later realized, are the colours of the Ukrainian flag" Sherlock continued as he chuckled once. "We contacted Lestrade who pulled your personnel file and, lo and behold, under education you listed Lugansk State Medical University," He said, nodding conversationally. "Congratulations. Arguably the best medical school in all of Ukraine," Sherlock told him sarcastically with a hideously false smile.

"Not arguably," Gura retorted and Sherlock and I both chuckled. "Yes, I was a doctor in Ukraine. Now, I am a janitor," He continued, his smile melting into a frown. "Is that why I'm here? A problem with how I clean the floors?"

"Actually, we thought maybe you could help us," Lestrade told him, shifting some of the papers in front of him. "Do you recognize any of these people?" Lestrade continued as he shifted the sheets of paper so that they formed a line of patient charts.

"They were all patients at the hospital. "Were" being the operative word. They're all dead now," Sherlock told him, pausing to gauge his reaction to this news. Gura said nothing and gave no indications that he cared about this. "We believe they were all… murdered," Sherlock continued. Gura glanced down at the charts with semi interest.

"Yes, I remember them, many of these patients were very sick. Even dying," Gura said calmly and I raised an eyebrow at that.

"That makes it okay to kill them?" I asked him and he turned to gaze at me questioningly.

"When a patient is in pain, dying is not a tragedy. It is a release," Gura told me as if it was simple.

"You make it sound so noble," I told him and Gura glanced down. "The murder of defenceless sick people," I continued chuckling sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, I still don't understand why you want to speak with me," Gura told us, looking toward Lestrade and Sherlock.

"We got a warrant, Mr. Gura. We searched your flat this morning while you were at the hospital," Lestrade told him as he reached beside him and pulled an evidence bag out from under his chair. "And we found this," He finished as he set the evidence bag on the table which contained a small book.

"It's a log. Filled with medical notes. Written by you. Exclusively about these nine patients. Now we know you're the man who killed them not that we needed any proof to confirm it. It was after all quite obvious and even the idiot's here at the Yard could have figured it out," Sherlock said before a tense silence settled over us, Lestrade throwing Sherlock a dirty look for the jab against him.

"I freed them. I freed them from the pain-wracked prison their bodies had become. I saw them. I studied them. Confirmed for myself there was no chance of recovery. That all they had to live for was the horror of dying. And I did what needed to be done. I showed them mercy," Gura told us after a long moment.

"What about Samantha Cropsey?" Sherlock asked him, shifting her patient chart across the table towards Gura.

"What about her?" Gura asked us and I leaned across the table, pointing to her file.

"She was getting better. How can you call what you did to her "mercy"?" I asked him with a frown. That wasn't mercy that was just outright murder.

"Better? People do not get better from metastasized cardiac cancer," Gura told me frowning.

"She didn't have cancer, she was recovering from bypass surgery. Her blood pressure was improving, her oxygen saturation—," Sherlock began listing before Gura interrupted him.

"No! You are wrong. They'd found a mass in her heart," Gura argued with him, trying to defend his actions.

"What happened? Did you get bored of waiting for somebody sick enough?" Sherlock goaded him trying to get him angry.

"The pain was so bad she could hardly form sentences. She was begging me—," Gura said before I interrupted him, having heard far enough of that.

"She had her entire life ahead of her!" I shouted at him. "And you call that mercy?"

Gura slammed his hand on the table, shouting back at me. "No! She was dying!" Lestrade glanced at Sherlock and me sceptically. "You are no better than the police in soviet Ukraine. Making up lies to suit your truths," He told us. I blinked back at him several times. "I am done talking."

"You've said quite enough," Lestrade told him as he stood and shifted the papers. "Sherlock, Lexi," Lestrade told us and Sherlock, lost in thought, got up after as second and followed him out. I leaned in staring at Gura for a second before deciding to try something.

"Ви вбити їх, тому що ви відчуваєте, як ви звільняючи їх?" (You murder them because you think you are freeing them?) I asked Gura in Ukrainian. He looked at me in surprise that I was speaking his native language.

"Це акт доброти," (It is an act of kindness.) He replied in the same language as Lestrade looked back into the room.

"Lexi?" He asked me and I waved him off as Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me.

"І ви впевнені, Саманта Кропсі метастази серця рак?" (And you are sure Samantha Cropsey had metastasized cardiac cancer?) I asked him for confirmation. He nodded at me in agreement.

"Вона вмирала," (She was dying) Gura responded and I nodded once before nodding more vigorously.

"Спасибі," (Thank you) I told him before hopping off of the table and following Sherlock and Lestrade out of the room.

"What was that about?" Lestrade asked me as soon as he closed the door behind us.

"I wanted to ask him a few questions, thought he might feel more comfortable speaking in his native language," I told him as John walked out of the side room to join us.

"And you just happen to speak Ukrainian?" John asked me as he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at me. I swore Watson had more attitude than I did.

"I was bored one summer, took a class," I told him with a shrug. Sherlock didn't seem to be too surprised by this knowledge.

"You were bored?" Lestrade asked me in exasperation.

"Yes, now, moving on," I told them as I started walking down the hall. "Gura really believes that what he is doing by killing them is freeing them," I told them and Sherlock nodded before looking away thoughtfully. "He's telling the truth or—or at least he thinks he is," I told Lestrade with a frown.

"About being the angel?" John asked me in confusion and I shook my head at him quickly.

"No, about Samantha Cropsey's condition. He's convinced she was suffering from terminal cardiac cancer," I told them as Sherlock and I shared a look.

"Well he's also convinced that he helped those people that he killed. He's a lunatic. What did you expect?" Lestrade asked us as we stopped in the middle of the division. The four of us glanced behind us as Donovan led Gura out of the interrogation room in handcuffs.

"I don't know. Just not this. I think we missed something," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me.

"There's always something," Sherlock agreed with me before we nodded at each other.

"Can we go through Gura's journal? We might be able to find out why he was so sure that Ms. Cropsey was dying," I told Lestrade, looking at him expectantly. I knew how he felt about giving evidence out, but we might be able to find out what was missing. Gura was intelligent, he wasn't your run of the mill murderer. Something made him believe that Samantha was really dying.

"Alright," Lestrade said reluctantly after a long moment, handing me the evidence bag with the journal. "I'll be needing that back though," He warned us, looking at Sherlock sternly.

"Duly noted," Sherlock told him sharply before turning on his heel and starting to walk out of the division. He paused and waited for me and I patted Lestrade's arm before following after him. We swept out of the Yard side by side, walking through the division and past our adoring public.

"Freaks," I heard Anderson mutter as we passed by him. Sherlock and I snorted. If they were going to insult us, the least they could do was be a bit creative.

It honestly didn't faze us as we continued to walk through the division. We were too used to the names by now. Freak, psychopath…they could think of us what they liked. John trailed after us after a few minutes, looking confused as to what was going on. I linked arms with my boys and the three of us headed down the stairs and out into the London air. Sherlock hailed us a cab back to Baker Street and then we looked up at the grey London sky that was threatening rain before looking back at one another. I smiled at Sherlock and he smirked back. The cab pulled up to the curbing and Sherlock opened the door, letting me get in before he followed after me. I watched the streets of London flash by the window as the cab brought us back to Baker Street. Sherlock and I headed up to the flat together as John followed up behind us looking completely spent. We dived into the case files to see what we had missed while John disappeared, returning with three mugs of tea.

"Thanks John," I told the shorter man as I took the mug of steaming tea he offered me. I grinned up at him from my spot on the floor where Sherlock and I had spread the files around us. We were sitting back to back on the rug, going through Samantha Cropsey's files.

"Why are you still looking through those files? You caught the angel," John asked us as he sat down heavily in his chair after leaving Sherlock's mug of tea on the floor in front of him. He looked boyish as his dark curled headed was bent over a case file, a frown on his face.

"We caught someone who was smart, medically knowledgeable, and fiercely attentive to detail. His notes on Samantha Cropsey's condition said cardiac cancer was discovered during her bypass surgery. Why did he get it so wrong? Why is he so convinced that he was right?" Sherlock asked us irritably as he violently flipped one of the pages of the file.

"Whoa there killer," I told him as I took the file from him, he leaned back, glaring at me, but I continued on unfazed by him. "Whatever it was he felt like he was freeing them. He had a code, only killing those that he really felt had no hope of living and were just going to end up suffering. Gura's medical notes all say she had cardiac cancer, but Dr. Green's says nothing was found," I told them as I showed Sherlock the hospital file.

"Wait Green?" John asked me, grimacing as he furrowed his brow.

"Yup, otherwise known as doctor asshat," I supplied as I continued. "So either Green or Gura was wrong, but the question is which one?" I asked the boys as I got up and moved to Sherlock's desk, finding some of the other files and bringing them back over to Sherlock. **(A/N Asshat- a term that means when you have your head so far up your arse you are wearing it like a hat. I reserve it for those I truly have a deep dislike off.)**

"Green had an alibi, but your first instinct was that he was involved. Why?" Sherlock asked me as I balanced myself on the arm of his chair.

"The way he acts, he said the killings were out of mercy so he couldn't be our killer because he really didn't care if his patients were suffering or not. He also was completely indifferent to the fact that one of his experimental surgeries had a seventy-five percent failure rate that resulted in two fatalities. He's on an unofficial probation, one more screw up and he's out of there," I told Sherlock hoping he could infer something from that.

"Oh," Sherlock said suddenly and John and I turned to him as his face lit up with excitement. "Oh that's clever. Certainly, but not clever enough, not if you noticed it. Thank you, you've given me an idea as to why Denilo Gura would have killed Samantha Cropsey," Sherlock told me as he gracefully got up and started towards the door, pulling his coat on and flipping up the collar. "Get your coats. We need to speak with Denilo right away," Sherlock told us as he helped me into my coat and John got up to follow us. "I think he may be holding out on us."

Sherlock texted Lestrade and told him that we were headed back over to the Yard and that he had officially solved the case. He explained what he figured out with John and I on the cab ride over. "I originally thought that Gura had copied his notes right off of the charts. They're detailed, highly comprehensive which shows that he was obsessive of these patients to some extent. But why, why do that? Someone could walk in at any moment. Pictures are however worth a thousand words. He was smart, might have wanted physical copies as well that he could obsessively look over as John all but pointed out. He has to have the pictures somewhere," Sherlock told us and me nodded slowly before frowning and cocking me head to the side as I regarded him.

"Alright, fine, but what does that have to do with Green?" John asked Sherlock voicing the question I had as well.

"Lexi?" Sherlock said as he sat back in his seat and adopted his prayer pose as he watched me. I raised an eyebrow at him before sighing and racking my brains as I tried to figure out what he had. One more strike and Green was gone, Samantha Cropsey was recovering, Gura was convinced she was dying. How were they all connected? I scrunched up my face before opening my eyes wide in shock as I put the piece together.

"Green was Samantha's doctor, he performed her bypass surgery. She was recovering, but in a lot of pain. Gura believed she had cardiac cancer given her symptoms. Somehow Green messed up her surgery, if someone had found out, he would have been gone. He's too much of a prat for that though. He likes to play God, thinks he's God's gift to his patients. He doesn't care if his patients are suffering either. Two of the patients that died were his own. If he found out about the angle, maybe he thought of using him to his advantage to fix his mistake. If Samantha died of a heart attack, no one would bat an eye, there wouldn't have been an autopsy. All evidence of his screw up would be erased," I told Sherlock, grinning when he nodded at me and broke his prayer position.

"Exactly, spot on in fact. Good, very good," He complimented me before turning to face us better. "Green most likely left a piece of surgical equipment behind in Ms. Cropsey, possibly a clamp. Most common piece left behind. It would have caused her exceeding pain, but would have been easy remedied. But Green wouldn't do that, no. As you said, he likes playing God, one person dies, but he can still save others?" Sherlock chuckled darkly. "He wouldn't have even lost sleep over it at night.

"So he sets Samantha up to be the perfect victim for the angel to cover his tracks?" John asked us furrowing his brow.

"Mmm-hmm," Sherlock hummed in agreement. "It was genius. He already knew someone was stalking patients, it would have been easy to just decrease her pain medication," Sherlock told him looking smug that he had figured it out first.

"And Gura liked to talk to his victims. With that much pain, she wouldn't be too coherent. She couldn't tell him what actually was wrong with her," I added and then looked at Sherlock. "Now it's just a matter of getting Gura to fess up that he has the photos."

The three of us jumped out of the cab as we got to the Yard before rushing inside as the sun was just starting to set and twilight fell over London. Time passed quickly when you were running with Sherlock. Before my life was at a standstill and I moved through each day without a purpose. Now, I had a purpose again. Once more unto the breach. It was nice to have something to work on, to get my hands dirty with. Sherlock and I had spent a week trying to find any information about Moriarty. We had come up with nothing, leaving the both of us more frustrated than before. We didn't mention anything to John, both agreeing that this was something we would be keeping to ourselves. I still had the nagging feeling in the back of my mind like I remembered the name from somewhere. I kept thinking of my old cases, but I couldn't remember where I had heard that name before. Possibly they were someone I knew. Moriarty was an Irish surname and they had known of my time working case before. What didn't make since was that if Sherlock and I had a fan, why had the cabbie wanted to kill us? Whoever he was, he had sponsored a serial killer. That meant the person possessed power to some extent, enough to get people to do what he wanted them to. But what sort of person sponsored a serial killer? John's description of Mycroft would fit that category, criminal mastermind.

I stayed outside with John as Lestrade and Sherlock went to question Gura about the existence of the pictures. John kept glancing over at me as I sat on Lestrade's desk, kicking my legs back and forth. I grinned at him and patted the desk beside me. "Pop a squat," I told the army doctor who walked slowly over to me and sat next to me on the desk. "So, what's on your mind?" I asked John knowing something was clearly bugging him.

"It's just this, what you and Sherlock do. It's mad, yeah, but it's always brilliant. I don't understand why you do it," John told me shaking his head. "And the experiments, who dissolves fingers in a coffee cup?"

"Well I can't speak for Sherlock, but I do it because I love it. I told you that I see the puzzles in everything. Sherlock does too. Like we told you, no one ever wants to hear it. So, we have this skill that we can't use, at least not in the way we would like to. So we use it to solve cases. Criminals are some of the most interesting people, each has a different motive, a different mind-set. Experiments are all part of the work. Okay, I'm not sure how dissolving fingers in acid is going to help us solve most cases, but its interesting data. I'm not going to say it's going to be easy living with us, but we want you to stay John. I know I do, but I can't say for Sherlock," I told John, leaning onto his shoulder and sighing.

"I don't think I could leave now anyway," John told me truthfully and I giggled, grinning up at him. "I'm not going to say that I'm always going to be fine with the experiments or getting run all over London, but I'll try to be slightly more understanding. Just, no more using coffee cups or having sword fights in the living room," John told me and we both laughed together at that. I sat up straight and nudged John's shoulder with my own.

"I'll try to be better and I'll try to wrangle in Sherlock, but I don't think that's really possible. Mycroft never could either," I told John as I began kicking my legs again. "So, when can I get my cast off?" I asked the doctor as I held up my hand. John groaned and looked away from me before looking back at me in exasperation.

"Your just as impatient as he is," John accused me and I shrugged. Yeah, okay, I was slightly impatient, but this things was uncomfortable and itchy. Just then, Lestrade and a very irritable looking Sherlock walked into the office. John and I both looked at each other before we hopped off of the desk in unison. "How did it go?" John asked Lestrade, but it was Sherlock who answered him.

"He refused to tell us they even exist. He's obviously lying," Sherlock snapped as he paced back and forth and Lestrade plopped down in his desk chair.

"So that's it then?" John asked Sherlock and I and I shook my head at him.

"It's never over John. Give me five minutes with him," I said to Lestrade as Sherlock snorted loudly behind me. "I speak Ukrainian, plus, I'm a lot less intimating than the Detective Inspector and the consulting detective," I told the both of them. Lestrade nodded thoughtfully after a minute.

"You can try. I doubt you'll get anything from him though. He doesn't seem to want to talk," Lestrade told me as he got up to follow me out.

"John, come with me," I told the army doctor who looked shocked and pointed to himself to see if he heard me right. "Yes, you. You're compassionate, plus he hasn't seen you before. You're also a doctor. If you act like you sympathize with him, he might be more willing to talk to the both of us," I told him as Sherlock had a little temper tantrum in the corner because he wasn't getting his way. He was as much as a drama queen as Mycroft. I followed Lestrade to the interrogation room, Sherlock trailing after us sullenly. He let us into the room where Gura was seated. He looked up as John and I entered and Lestrade left us to go watch the proceedings with Sherlock in the other room. John and I took a seat across from him as he stared back at us passively. "Hello again. I don't believe we were properly introduced the first time. I'm Alexandria and this is my friend Dr. Watson," I told Gura who seemed sceptical since I was being nice to him rather than just interrogating him.

"Hello," John told him with a curt nod as Gura stared back at us for another long moment.

"I assume you want the same thing the Detective Inspector and his consultant want. As I told them, I have nothing more to say to you," Gura told us and I nodded in understanding.

"Good, because I just want you to listen," I told Gura who seemed surprised by this. "Your notes said that Samantha Cropsey had cardiac cancer, you were and are convinced of this fact. We," I said pointing between John and I. "Aren't so sure that she did," I told him before holding up my hand as he went to interrupt me. "I think that someone knew what you were doing. They made a mistake during Samantha's surgery. One that would have been easy enough to fix, she would have recovered, but if he revealed he made a mistake, he would have lost his job, would have lost his licence to practice. So, he changed Samantha's files, made you believe she was dying, so that you would take care of it for him. We have the hospital files. They say something completely different than your notes. I think he changed them back to erase his involvement later on so that if anyone ever found out, only you would take the fall for it. We know you have the pictures of the files somewhere. If you give us those, we can prove that he used you, made you break your code, so that no one ever knew that he messed up Samantha's surgery," I explained to Gura who furrowed his brow as I told him what we believed had happened.

"Why would you care to prove this? You caught your killer," Gura asked me and I nodded at him, but it was John who answered him.

"Yeah, we caught you, but there is another doctor who thought it was okay to kill someone who had a long life ahead of them just to cover up his mistake. I'm not going to say I understand why you did what you did or that I agree with it, but you thought you were helping them. This doctor," John said as he shook his head. "This guy doesn't care if he kills someone if it benefits him."

Gura stared back at us and we sat in an awkward silence before Gura spoke again. "They're on a flash drive hidden in a vent near my flat," Gura finally told us before looking away and then back at me. "I don't expect you to understand why I did what I did, but I was right. It was mercy," Gura told us and I nodded at him. "Now I have no more to say to you," He told us dismissively.

"Спасибі," (Thank you) I told him as John and I got up and moved to the door to leave him.

"Where did you learn to speak Ukranian," Gura suddenly asked me as John held open the door for me. I turned back to him. "Your accent is perfect," Gura added and I shrugged with a little grin on my face.

"I taught myself. My brother Mycroft helped me a bit too," I told him truthfully before walking out of the interrogation room, followed closely by John.

"How many languages do you actually know?" John asked me as soon as the door had closed behind us and Lestrade and a bristling Sherlock came to join us.

"Um, let's see. Ukrainian, Gaelic, French, German, Italian, Latin, Russian, Chinese, Hungarian, Romanian and Bulgarian," I listed off to John who stared back at me dumbfounded. "Mycroft taught me French and Italian when I was going through rehab. It kept me busy," I told him with a shrug. I knew that Mycroft as well as Sherlock knew multiple languages. Mycroft had learnt French as a boy as well as Italian. I of course knew Gaelic and had learnt the other languages because I was bored and it gave me something to do.

"Good work in there," Lestrade told me, clapping me on the shoulder. "We'll bring Dr. Green in tomorrow to make the arrest. Go get some rest, I'm sure you need it," Lestrade told us before walking away, leaving us with Sherlock. He turned to us, still looking irritated. I linked arms with him looking up at the detective and raising one eyebrow. He glared down at me for a second before sighing heavily and his glare turning into a look of boredom.

"How does Angelo's sound?" I asked John as the three of us walked out of the division amidst whisperings as people saw Sherlock and I walk together. I didn't care what they thought though. I could do what I liked. Sherlock was my friend and so was John. If I wanted to walk with them I could.

"That sounds nice," John told me as we walked outside and hailed a cab. I laughed and joked with John in the cab. From the looks I snuck in Sherlock's direction, I found that he was watching the two of us thoughtfully. I turned back to him with a grin and caught the corners of his mouth lifting up into a slight smirk. We piled out of the cab and John insisted on paying for it. The three of us trailed into Angelo's, the man in question beaming and letting out a booming laugh as soon as he saw us.

"Sherlock, Alexia!" Back again? Come, come," He said as he led us to the table in front of the window we had sat at on our first case. I sat in the same chair as before as Sherlock and John also took up their respective chairs. "I'll get a candle for the table and some of that Sangria for you," Angelo assured us as he left us with menus and walked away to fetch those for us. John grimaced at the mention of the candle and Sherlock and I took one look at each other before breaking out into chuckles, his deep baritone laugh mixing with my bell like peels.

"Are you going to eat?" John asked Sherlock, joking.

"Mmm, yes," Sherlock answered him as he looked down at the menu. John looked taken a back but I wasn't surprised. Sherlock had solved the case, therefore, he had no qualms about eating.

"You're eating?" John as him bemused as Angelo came back and put the candle on the table and set my glass of Sangria in front of me. "Ta," John tanked him, albeit a bit sarcastically as he eyed the candle with distain. As soon as Angelo left us again, I leaned forward and blew out the candle before picking up my wine glass and taking a sip. Ah, this was the best way to celebrate solving a case.

"Yes, yes," Sherlock snapped as he waved his hand around. "Eating, isn't that what you said people do?" Sherlock asked John as he looked up from his menu. John held up his hands in a defensive manner.

"I was just surprised, you don't normally eat," John told him and I chuckled as I put my wine glass down.

"Alright girls, hakuna your tatas," I told the two men who looked at me as if I had grown a second head. John and Sherlock shared a look before John shook his head in exasperation. Angelo came back over and took our orders, breaking up the awkward silence. Sherlock got a light pasta dish, opting to eat something small. I got my favourite raviolis and John got the same thing he had the first time we came here. By the time I was on my second glass of Sangria, the thee of us were laughing as Sherlock told us about some of the old cases he worked, one that involved him having to dress up as a woman.

"And that seriously worked?" John snorted and Sherlock took a bite of his pasta.

"You saw me acting," I pointed out to John as I physically pointed at him with my fork. "It's easy enough to do. Pick a story and stick to it. Sell it like you own it. People are apt to believe anything you tell them if you seem like you truly believe it yourself," I explained to John. "How do you think I get into places I shouldn't?"

"Yah, you said you got into that government party where you met Mycroft. How were you able to pull that off?" John asked me snorting again as he sat back in his chair, Sherlock also watching me closely.

"Oh that," I laughed as I swirled my Sangria around in my glass. Sherlock eyed it smirking a little and I raised an eyebrow at him. So what if I was slightly buzzed? I was celebrating solving a case that didn't involve us almost dying. "Well Mycroft's men aren't the brightest bunch. So, I convinced them that I was the French ambassador's daughter after I snuck inside. Mycroft's security was minimal at best. Once I convinced them I was supposed to be there I mingled for a while after I got what I needed. Mycroft only saw through me because I slipped in my French. Bloody bastard blew my cover," I ground out irritably as I remembered it. I had used the wrong tense when he came to talk to me. I had learnt just enough French to carry simple conversations as I didn't think many people would know French so I thought I'd be fine. Of course Mycroft had to know French and had asked me questions I could answer and thus my cover was blown. Sherlock chuckled deeply as John also joined in. After a second, I joined them in the laughter.

"I can't believe you can actually put up with Mycroft," John laughed as I took another sip of my drink. Sherlock and I shared a look before laughing again.

"I don't, at least not half of the time. Okay, sure, he has his moments, but most of the time he's just annoying. How did you survive living with him?" I asked Sherlock who grimaced.

"It was hell I assure you," Sherlock told me as he folded his hand pensively.

"Mmm," I hummed in agreement as I popped a ravioli in my mouth. "Your mother told me about it," I told him and Sherlock grimaced at me in distaste for having spoken to his mother.

"So you have actually met their mother?' John asked me in surprise and I shook my head quickly with a little grin on my face.

"Nope," I said popping the p at the end of the word as I sat back in my chair. I waved off Angelo as he came back to refill my Sangria. I had drunk more than enough already, just enough to quiet my brain for a while. "Mycroft was talking to her one day, I came in and Mycroft tried to use me as an excuse to get off the phone with her. Of course she wanted to talk with me," I told him as I shrugged. "He still refuses to let me meet her."

"And for good reason. Now, stop talking about my childhood," Sherlock snapped and my gaze slid over to the consulting detective who was actually pouting. I shrugged at him as he pushed his barely touched food away from him. We talked for a bit after that, John telling us about some of his exploits in Uni. I told them about some of the pranks I pulled in Uni, especially on my professors. John asked me about the infamous element song, telling me he would never forget the face I had pulled before running off. I explained that it was a memory device I had used when working on my Chemistry major. That along with using the song Hitler's Only Got One Ball to remember the ionic charges. That earned me a chuckle from John and an quirk of an eyebrow from Sherlock. (**A/N My own way of remembering them actually.)**

We left Angelo's late and made the walk back to Baker Street arm and arm. As we got inside the flat I went and plopped down in Sherlock's chair, the man in question making his displeasure over this fact known before he finally piped down and took up residence on the couch. John had disappeared, but his foot steeps indicated he was back. I opened my eyes lazily, tapping my foot in the air to a tune that had been playing out in my head all night. John was grinning at me as he held up his medical bag. I immediately popped up and John laughed at my enthusiasm.

"I think we can take that cast off now," John told me as he pulled up one of the kitchen chairs in front of me and started taking out the things he would need from his bag to break me out of my cast. I cheered and Sherlock made and irritated huff from the couch. John took of my cast and made me sit through an examination as he checked over my knuckles. They were still bruised, but I was finally out of that bloody cast. "They're healing well, I think I have a brace you can wear until they heal completely. You just have to be careful," John warned me and I nod as he routed around in his bag and finally produced the brace which he proceeded to strap on my hand. As soon as he was finished I jump out of Sherlock's chair and reach for my viola. Finally, I can play again. "Hang on, wait, no. Didn't I just say you would have to be careful?" John asked me as he jumped out of his own chair. I huffed at him and rolled my eyes. I had just gotten out of the cast. There was no way I was getting back into one.

"You did," Sherlock drawled out from the couch and I looked over at him to see that he was staring back at me.

"Yes, thank you Lexi," John shot in Sherlock's direction as he turned back to me and crossed his arms as he glared at me.

"Relax John. Not the first time, I've played with fracture knuckles before," I assure him as I moved and put my viola on the opposite shoulder I normally do. Normally I would use my left hand to play the notes and my right to move the bow, but with my fracture knuckles, I wouldn't be able to. Instead, I switch to my other side so I put less stress on my knuckles, happy that I am ambidextrous. I pull the bow across the strings and smile in delight as the first few notes are produced. Ah, I missed this. (**A/N Lexi is playing Feeling Good by Escala.)**

John sat back in his chair and listened to my tune. I kept playing even though the burning in my knuckles. I wasn't going to give John the satisfaction of knowing he had been right and I shouldn't be playing. I had injured myself more than I originally thought. When I finished my song, I put my viola down and smiled in satisfaction as I looked across to John who was snoring in his chair. I smiled fondly at the army doctor and moved to drape the blanked from the back of my chair over him. I looked over to Sherlock who was watching my movements and grinned at him. I yawned myself, feeling the need for sleep washing over me.

"Night Sherlock," I told the dark haired detective as I moved to my room, he made no indication he had heard me and I shook my head as I headed into the hallway and into my room. I got ready for bed and was just about to climb into bed when I heard a soft knock on my door. I sighed and walked over to it, opening it to find Sherlock standing in front of me. "What Sherlock?" I asked the taller detective as I put my good hand on my hands on my hips, wincing slightly as the movement hurt my hand.

"I won't tell John," Sherlock told me with a smug smirk on his face as he handed me over a bag of ice. I looked up at him in slight surprise over his thoughtfulness before rolling my eyes. Of course he had caught me wincing and had deduced why. I also noted that he now had blackmail on my.

"Thanks," I told the smug detective, just a note of sarcasm leeching into my voice. Bloody smug bastard. "Goodnight Sherlock," I told the detective as I moved to close my door.

"Goodnight Lexi," Sherlock said chuckling lowly before I closed my door. I sighed before padding over to my bed and crawling under my sheets, putting the ice over my hand. I hissed at first before sighing in relief as the ice started to work, easing the pain.

I laid back on my pillows wondering why Sherlock had thought about getting me the ice. He was a lot more caring than he let on. He claimed he was a high functioning sociopath. That he didn't care. He closed himself off, but I saw it. I could see that he actually cared. He had been so eager to impress John when we first met. I knew I had been the last thing on his mind, that John was who he had been more concerned about, but after he found out I knew Lestrade, he had become more intrigued with me. We had been battling at first to prove who was cleverer, but somehow, we had slipped into a companionship. He was like Mycroft, caring wasn't an advantage. I snorted as I turned on my side, keeping the ice on my hand. That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard in my life. Sure, sometimes caring got you hurt. I was proof of that. There had been so many times when I had ended up caring only to get it thrown back in my face, but you could never stop caring.

Maybe this is why I had met the detective and the doctor. John was alone before I met him. I had seen it when we first met. He wasn't happy, pushing everyone away, but the man I first met was different from the man sleeping in the living room. This man smiled, he joked around, and he was highly protective. Sherlock on the other hand had been friendless and uncaring or so it seemed. Maybe he just needed someone who wouldn't judge him, who would show him how to care. Then, there was me. I had been so broken before and now I felt like I was healing again. John was like my brother, but I wasn't sure what Sherlock was to me yet. He was a friend certainly, but the man was an enigma. He was a puzzle, a puzzle I wanted to solve. One minute I thought I understood him and then he surprised me. There was the whole thing with Moriarty for us to work on and whatever was coming, because something certainly was, I would stand by him, no matter what. I trusted him as odd as that sounded for having only known the man for a little over a week.

I felt like I had known him my entire life though. Someone once told me I was a good judge of character. Upon meeting someone, I immediately knew if I was going to like them or not. I knew with John right away, introducing myself as Lexi. Angelo and Liz had gotten variations of my name. Mycroft knew me for two months before I corrected him when he called me Alexandria, surprising even myself. One thing I always knew for certain though was that once I met someone, invested time with them, I didn't let them go. I would stand by them through thick and thin for as long as they wanted me there. I absentmindedly traced over the tattoo on my left arm grateful for whatever powers out there that had allowed me to live and meet two of what I believe to be the greatest men in the world. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was going to save John Watson and Sherlock Holmes from their worst enemies, themselves. I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep, the notes of a lullaby reaching my ears. I smiled knowingly. Every night Sherlock played, was a night free from the nightmares of my past. Yes, we certainly were going to save each other.

The next morning, the three of us rose, except for Sherlock that is who hadn't slept at all. John came down from his room so I assumed that either Sherlock had woken him knowing that sleeping in the chair wouldn't be good for his shoulder or he had woken up on his own and had gone up to bed. This morning, I woke up earlier than normal, my body seeming to finally be getting used to the sleep schedule it used to run while working on cases. I had been used to working long nights, waking up early, and getting short naps in anywhere and anytime I could work them in which included a crime scene on more than one occasion. I stopped off into the bathroom to dump the water from the melted ice into the sink, disposing of the bag before I yawned and stretched, moving towards the kitchen. John stopped me in the hall having head me coming and pressed a mug of tea into my hands, my eyes still closed. I grinned sleepily at the army doctor who looked tried himself.

"You should be sainted," I told the shorter man as I took a sip of the perfect brew. John just makes the tea so much better than I do, it's always perfect. "Saint John," I continue as he laughed and follows me into the living room.

"What is he, the patron saint of tea, jumpers, and jam?" Sherlock asked me smirking as he looked up from his laptop. I nodded at him as I sat in the kitchen chair which was still pulled up in front of his, pouting slightly because I couldn't steal his chair this morning. I propped my feet up on the arm of his chair and he looked down at them for a second before pushing them off. I stuck my tongue out at him as John sat heavily down in his chair and picked up the morning paper, the headline blaring the news of the angel of death found at Chelsea and Westminster.

"Settle down children," John mock scolded us and Sherlock and I both turned to scowl at him. I huffed and looked away taking another sip of my tea as John started reading the front page story. "No mention if either of you," John announced sounding surprised.

"Mmm," Sherlock mumbled as he bent his head over his laptop. He looked up, seeming to register John's words. "No, there would be," Sherlock told him before going back to what he was working on. John looked across to me for a better explanation.

"Lestrade knows not to let anyone know of our involvement with cases. Part of our work calls for animosity. Plus, Mycroft likes to keep my name out of the papers as much as he can," I explained to John who nodded slowly at me. My phone buzzed at the same time as Sherlock's and we looked across to the coffee table where both of our phones were next to each other. "Not it," I told Sherlock with a cheeky grin. He huffed out in irritation before rising and going over to his phone, glancing at mine too.

"Lestrade, he wants us down at the Yard within the hour," Sherlock informed us and I sighed. I was just getting comfortable.

"Fine," I complained slightly as I got up to go and get dressed, both boys already clothed and ready to go. I hurried to take a shower, pulling on black skinny jeans and a crème coloured, lacy blouse after drying my long hair hurriedly. I smiled in satisfaction as I was finally able to pull my hair up and pin it back into a bun by myself. Sure, the burning in my knuckles was painful, but it was nice to not have to ask for help. I went back to my room, hopping around as I pulled on my boots before grabbing my case bag from where I had kicked it under my bed and slinging it over my shoulder. I walked out to the living room where Sherlock was now sitting at his desk. John handed me a piece of jammy toast as the printer started up.

"Lestrade emailed me the pictures they found on Gura's flash drive this morning. You'll never guess whose signature is on the edited medical file which says a tumour was found during Samatha Cropsey's routine bypass surgery," Sherlock said as he got up and bounded over to the printer like an excited child before coming back over to me to brandish the photo in front of me.

"Hmm, let me guess, Dr. Green?" I asked him as I looked down at the picture. "Well, what do you know? It's like I'm psychic," I giggled as Sherlock jumped in triumph like he had when we were given the case of the killer cabbie as I had dubbed it.

"You do know you two are creepy when you do that?" John asked us as and I looked over my shoulder at the arm doctor.

"Do what?" I asked him innocently while smiling cheekily at him.

"I don't know, work together like that, like you know what each other is thinking," John told me actually looking slightly miffed by this fact.

"Sometimes we do," I called to John as Sherlock and I moved to get our coats on. Sherlock helped me like had had been of late and I wrapped my scarf around me as John got to his feet to follow after us.

"Wait hang on, what?" John asked me and I laughed at his expression.

"What we were doing while talking to Cahill," I explained to him as we walked down the stairs together, Sherlock just in front of us and already heading outside to hail us a cab. "We can read each other's micro facial expressions. It's useful," I told John as the three of us slid into the back of the cab. John shook his head at us as the cab pulled away from the curbing.

We got to the Yard and met up with Lestrade who told us he had Dr. Green waiting in one of the briefing rooms. We followed him in, John opting to stay out of the room. I knew he was being good spirited with helping us solve cases, but this wasn't what he did, he was a doctor not a detective. If it was up to Sherlock then he would be joining us on all of our cases which got no complaints from me. Sherlock and I sat across from one another at the end of the table near Dr. Green while Lestrade sat next to me. Part of me was sure that he was waiting for me to tell him that I had been wrong and wasn't ready for this yet. I wasn't weak though, I knew my limits and the girl I was four years ago had gotten stronger. I certainly knew how to defend myself now at least. What happened then was sure as hell not going to happen to me again. I just felt bad for the bloody bastard who crossed me next time. I had been going easy on Sherlock when we were sword fighting. He was good yes, but I had trained in order to defend myself, not just a causal sport that you picked up on a whim or because you're Mummy wanted you to learn. After I surpassed Mycroft's skill level we ceased sparing together, not that we did it too much before. Mycroft was always busy, but I had spent a little time with him, mostly around Christmas. It was better than spending it alone and I knew he would have too if he hadn't invited me over. He claimed we lived in a world of goldfish, I was just on the hunt now to find him his goldfish like any good sister would.

"Dr. Green. You are a brilliant man, are you not?" Sherlock asked the doctor passively as he leaned forward in his chair and studied the doctor closely, his hands folder in his prayer position. I broke out of my thoughts of finding Mycroft a goldfish, that plot could wait until later. The best laid plans of mice and men often went awry, but I was a woman and I wasn't going to let it go. I copied Sherlock's movements from my seat on the other side of the doctor.

"You didn't tell me they were going to be here," He answered after a second, looking to Lestrade who just smiled at him and shrugged.

"I asked you a question. Are you a brilliant man?" Sherlock asked him again, his blue eyes narrowing as he deduced the man in front of him.

"You step out of everybody for long enough, people start calling you brilliant. I got a feeling that you know something about that," Green told him laughing. I snorted at that, oh, he might be brilliant, but he didn't compare to Sherlock. Sherlock was a genius, even I had to admit it.

"Ah. Indeed I do. One of the dangers of brilliance, however, is that you sometimes fail to recognize the possibility that others are, at least in some respect, just as brilliant. Last night, for example. It occurred to me, we may not have been the first people to discover the angel of death at Chelsea and Westminster hospital," Sherlock carried on looking smug with himself. He had already explained to me what he had figured out. He liked to educate, as he said genius wanted an audience.

Dr. Green furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry. You saying that someone else knew that he was there and kept it to himself?" Green asked us as he leaned back in his chair.

"Mmm-hmm," I agreed as I stared back at him passively. "A brilliant someone," I added as my gaze flicked over to Sherlock.

"In this case, a brilliant someone with extensive medical knowledge. And real reason to pay close attention to the sudden death of two of his surgical patients," Sherlock told him, picking up where I had left off.

"Okay, if you're referring to me, I can assure you, I had no idea what Denilo Gura was up to," Green assured us and I snorted. Keep talking, you're digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"We checked the morgue's security logs. Apparently you were in there to examine the two bodies of the first two patients you lost to the angel?" Lestrade asked Dr. Green raising an eyebrow at him.

"They were my patients," Green answered him slowly as he leaned forward on the table. "I wanted to know what happened. I didn't find out anything unusual."

"I believe that you did realize that they had been murdered. Perhaps you noticed a bit of ischemia, as brilliant men are wont to do. But around the same time, you committed yet another surgical error," Sherlock told him before he made a gesture with his hand for me to share what I had figured out after speaking with Gura again.

"You left a clamp in Samantha Cropsey's chest during a routine bypass surgery," I said as I gauged his reaction.

"Okay. I've had just about enough of this," Green said defensively as he moved to get up and leave.

"Woah!" Lestrade told him, holding up his hand to stop him. Dr. Green glared at us for a few seconds before he sat down again. Good choice.

"It was inevitable Samantha would develop complications. The mistake could have been easily rectified, the clamp removed. But not without earning you your third strike and ending your formerly great career. Unless the angel could make it all go away. You realized that he targeted patients who were not only terminal, but also in tremendous pain. So you set about making Samantha an attractive target. First, you found the biopsy of a patient dying of cardiac cancer. You put Samantha's name on the biopsy results. You noted that the tumour was found during her surgery, and then you placed them into her chart. Secondly, you made sure that she was in pain, so the angel would feel compelled to end her suffering," Sherlock began and Green glanced up at us before looking away. "That was simple enough, just reduce her pain meds. Now this had the added benefit of making her to delirious to effectively communicate with a killer who liked to chat up his victims. The angel took the bait. Samantha succumbed to a cardiac event. Now all you had to do was remove those cancer results from her chart, and your mistake was erased. Until today."

"We received permission to exhume Miss Cropsey's body. The ME found this lodged in her ribcage," Lestrade told him as he pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and held it up.

"It's a surgical clamp. Look familiar?" Sherlock asked him, smiling with delight as Lestrade set it down on the table.

"Let's say that I believe you. Let's say that you actually found that in Samantha's remains," Green stared and Sherlock nodded at him slowly, an invitation for him to continue. "All you've proven is that I made a mistake. A mistake that'll probably end my career and keep me from helping thousands of people, but I see no evidence at all that I faked records, or that I killed people."

"Excellent points. Which is why Sherlock and I visited Denilo Gura yesterday afternoon. His patient logs were so detailed, so comprehensive. First, Sherlock suspected that he must have copied the data directly from the charts. But why would he risk doing that in a hospital? Someone could walk in at any moment. And then it hit us. He'd taken pictures," I told Green as I reached into my case bag and took out a printed copy of the picture Gura had taken of Samantha Cropsey's edited chart which was conveniently signed by Green. "Like this one, for example," I told him and he looked down, rubbing his face.

"At first, he refused to acknowledge the photos' existence. But after Lexi explained to him how you'd manipulated him into violating his code, he told us we could find them on a flash drive he'd hidden in a vent near his flat," Sherlock told Green with a triumphant smirk on his face.

"God forbid either of you should ever need surgery to save your life. I am the guy you want standing over you in the OR," Green told us as he licked his lips nervously.

"No, I imagine it was that kind of thinking that helped you justify Samantha's murder. Her life, versus the thousands you believed you'd save," Sherlock told him disinterestly.

"I was talking to the DA this morning. He figures murder two is a lock. You're looking at twenty to life," Lestrade told him as Sherlock and I stood up in unison. Lestrade followed us out into the division where we met up with John again.

"So, is that all sorted out?" John asked us and I grinned at him as I linked my bad arm with him.

"Yup, another case solve Watson," I said as I grinned up at Sherlock who was preening with pride at having solved another case. "Now, to Baker Street," I told my boys, linking arms with them and not taking no for an answer. (**A/N To the Bat Cave or um Baker Street! Sorry I got that line "Meanwhile at the Bat Cave" stuck in my head.)**Life for me now was this, cases, my boys, and Baker Street. Sherlock and I were the resident sociopaths of 221B and whatever case was sent our way, we wouldn't rest until it was solved. A whole new London stood waiting for the taking.

In a darkened room somewhere across London, a man with slicked back hair, wearing a dashing suit smirked as he watched the CCTV footage on the screen in front of him. He watched as Sherlock Holmes and his little doctor pet got into the back of cab with the little redheaded Irish girl. Things were finally shaping up for him. He had plans set in place and an end game already in the works. Within a few months he would be meeting with Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna face to face. The man turned away from the TV screens and sauntered down the hall, his hands in his pockets. Let the games begin. **(A/N Oh yeah, I went there.)**


	23. The Long Fuse

**(A/N) This chapter is specifically for you Diamond, who I will give the code name Ames fro future references to your amazing brilliance. I couldn't make you wait until Sunday for more. I read through this chapter and died laughing at some of the stuff I wrote and forgot I had. Hope you like it sweetie. You made my day. I serious haven't stopped smiling since your review. This chapter is dedicated specifically to you. xoxo -Mels**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One-The Long Fuse<strong>

**'He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organizer of half that is evil and nearly all that is undetected in this great city. He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order.'**

**Sherlock Holmes **

**_-The Final Problem_**

**Someone's POV**

In the flat at Baker Street, the consulting detectives and their army doctor were still sleeping peacefully in the early morning hours, basking in the afterglow of their recently solved case. While they were sleeping, the city came to life as people bustled about to their jobs. One web design headquarters was in full swing already that morning, the office a flurry of activity as a man watched everything going on inside the office on the screen of his computer.

"We completely understand, Mr. McKeen. Fluid layout," One of the men said, his voice coming through the speakers, as he talked into the phone, holding an orange ball that he threw from hand to hand. He got up and walked to the table and set the ball down on it. "No, we—we agree, ah… grid-based design has gone the way of the dinosaur," He complains as he toggles the mouse at the computer, picks up the ball, and then starts to head across the office. "Will do. All right. Take care," I finishes as he stops at the desk of a co-worker and hangs up the phone.

"Our favourite client, still wringing his hands?" The man's co-worker asked him as the man watching them sat back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the desk in front of him.

"That guy just does not get web design. 'Course he's like forty-five or something," The man told his friend with a laugh at his own joke. He turned and missed a layup with a basketball hoop. He stopped at a computer, staring at the monitor. The man behind his desk put his feet down and swivelled around giving the cue to set the wheels in motion for his brilliant plan. It only took a few minutes for the order to go through and the game to begin. He watched as the man started hearing the lovely beeping sound. The idiot even checked his phone before turning to his co-worker. "Is that you?"

"No," His friend told him, turning to check his own phone as the beeping continued. The man watching the events unfold before him and the idiocy of the two men, kicked his feet up on the desk again, and folded his hands behind his head, waiting for the grand finale.

"I think it's coming from inside the vent," The first man said, looking up. He started towards the vent, his co-worker watching. He hopped on the desk and peered into the vent. "Yeah, repair guy must've dropped his phone or something," He told his friend as he turned away from the vent. "That's gonna make us crazy."

"I'll call maintenance," His friend told him with a sigh as the man watching them switched to another camera which was located in the vent itself. On screen a bomb with a green glowing LED screen blinked back at him as the beeping continued. The man broke into a wide grin as the fuse was lit and he watched as the wall exploded in fire, consuming the office with the force of the explosion. All in a day's work and now, time to play with the little detectives and their army doctor. It was almost like Christmas.

**Lexi's POV**

I was standing in the middle of the living room, Sherlock sitting in his chair on his laptop, nursing a mug of tea as I listened to the overlapping chatter on the multiple televisions that Sherlock and I had set up around the room form my use. Sherlock said he was conducting an experiment to test the extent of my memory and I was all too happy to comply because I was bored. Sherlock was testing to see how much I could retain if there were several conversations going on at once which was why my eyes were darting between the seven televisions which were each playing a different program.

"What are you doing?" John asked me as he walked into the room, fully clothed, having finally woken up. He was going out, not a date, he would have dressed nicer for that. Mid-morning, going out, most likely on some sort of errand. Important, but not right now. I flicked my eyes back to the screens and made a gesture in Sherlock's direction for him to answer John. He sighed and stopped typing up his experiment notes.

"A memory game, I'm experimenting to see how much she can actually retain," Sherlock answered him as he got up and took my empty tea mug for me, heading back into the kitchen to make me more. That had been my deal with him. If he wanted to use me for his experiment, he had to keep bringing me tea. I believe that I got more out of it than he did. I was being rather lazy this morning and I didn't want to make tea.

"Lexi, you're letting him experiment on you?" John asked me exasperatedly and I sighed in annoyance as I waved him off and made a stop talking gesture with my hand. He was distracting me. This experiment didn't involve anything harmful or illegal so I couldn't complain. It was interesting me and I was getting endless tea out of the deal until Sherlock was satisfied he had collected enough data. I had never tested my own mental abilities before though Mycroft had tested me a few times. Nothing like this though. Speaking of Mycroft, it had been him that had provided us with the many television screens. Sometimes it was rather nice to know the British Government.

"Don't try and ask her questions, she gets irritable when you do. I think she's probably menstruating," Sherlock told John as he walked back into the room with my mug of tea. He passed it over to me and I quirked an eyebrow up as my eyes continued to flick from screen to screen in rapid succession. John however started sputtering and his eyes widened as he looked between Sherlock and me.

"Nope, actually I'm good on that front for another week at least," I answered Sherlock as I blew on my tea before taking a sip of it. Ah, tea, a superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for waking up the synapses. Sherlock actually didn't make a half bad cup of tea. John's was better of course, but I could live with this. I didn't have to make it so I really couldn't complain. Well I could, but that would be rude.

"Interesting, so you are listening to us," Sherlock said before crossing over to his laptop to make a note of it. "First thing John said while stepping into the room?" Sherlock asked me, looking up at me from the top of his laptop. I sighed heavily. He wanted to ask me this now? I snorted and rolled my eyes before answering him. I knew he would pester me until I had.

"Um, "what are you doing?"…," I told Sherlock as I continued to watch the screens. John made a noise that sounded strangled. I flicked my gaze over to him briefly and saw his indignant expression. I was actually paying attention to them, but I was trying to listen to seven conversations happening at once. Adding an eighth that was really going nowhere at the current point in time didn't seem productive.

"Sorry, but what is this supposed to accomplish?" John asked Sherlock as he walked behind me and sat down heavily on the couch since I was in his way and he couldn't get to his chair with all of the screens in front of it. I flicked my gaze over at him as he passed me and I saw that his cheeks were slightly pink. He was obviously not comfortable with the whole menstruating conversation. I wasn't too bother with it. It was a normal thing that happened to women, there was no reason to get all embarrassed about it. Besides, John was a doctor, he should be able to suck it up and get used to it or be ready to run out for chocolate once a month.

"The mind is a muscle, John. It needs to be exercised regularly, lest it turn flabby," Sherlock told John and I smirked at that, flicking my gaze over to Sherlock and sharing a look with him before I went back to working on our experiment.

"Most people just read a book," John pointed out with a snort, drawing my attention away from Sherlock as I turned back to the screens, concentrating on them again. Of course, I could just read a book, but what good what that do? The whole point was trying to test how much I could retain if there were multiple distractions. So far, Sherlock and I had figured out that I could listen to seven different things happening at once without mixing them up.

"I am reading a book," I told John as I pointed to an open book on bee keeping that Sherlock had set out on the side table within eyesight for me without taking my eyes off of the screens. It was actually rather interesting and was giving me some ideas of how to do things differently with my hives. Speaking of my hives, my bees seemed to have taken to the area around Baker Street quite well. Sherlock and I had taken up caring for them together. I had realized Sherlock's interest in bee keeping upon first inspection of his books and he really did find them fascinating. I liked that it was something I could share with him. Speaking of Sherlock though, what was it he had said about the mind? "And are you calling me flabby?" I asked Sherlock indignantly, pulling my eyes away from the television screens to shoot a glare at the consulting detective. He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes in mock irritation. I wasn't actually angry with him, but he was crossing into dangerous territory.

"Absorbing and cataloguing several pieces of information at the same time is the whole point. It keeps the mind active. It's a far better stimulant than drugs wouldn't you agree John, or at least that's what you tried to tell me last night, " Sherlock quipped back to John as I turned back to the screens, ignoring my question, as he made a gesture for me to give an example of what we were doing. I shook my head and grinned slightly as I stared at the television for a second longer, before turning back to John.

"The drugs that I took seemed to light up my brain," I started and John looked up at me, taken aback by my words. Sure, I could have picked a better example, but it worked with the context of the conversation. "Suddenly I realized the power I held. The power to rule. To make the world grovel at my feet," I continued as John continued to give me a funny stare. Sherlock hit a button on the remote and one of the televisions rewinded before starting to play, the rest of the screens now paused.

"The drugs that I took seemed to light up my brain. Suddenly I realized the power I held. The power to rule. To make the world grovel at my feet," The man said on the television and I let out a whoop of joy and fist pumped the air in triumph. Oh yes, I was on fire this morning. John turned back to Sherlock, who mouthed the words with a mocking facial expression. He smirked very slightly at my over excited display.

"Spot on! I am good, I'm really good. See that? That is how you do it," I told the boys as I curled up in John's chair, pulling my feet up to my chest as I took a sip of my now perfectly cooled tea. Okay it wasn't that exciting since it was something that I could always do, but it was nice to be able to show off on occasion.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed in agreement as he typed out his notes. "You are on sparkling form this morning," Sherlock relented and I grinned as I looked back at John who was watching us with an exasperated expression.

"Morning John," I told the army doctor with a tongue in the teeth grin. He stared back at me looking completely exasperated by my entire mood change. It wasn't my fault if I was a little irritable when he was interrupting me.

"Yeah," John said letting out a deep breath, his face softening a bit. "I'm going to head to the shop, we're out of milk. Do you two need anything?" John asked us as he got up off of the couch and headed for the door, pulling his jacket on. He looked back at Sherlock and I expectantly, but in that sort of way that people did when they really hoped that you would tell them no.

"No, I'm fine thank you," I answered him as I yawned, stretching out my legs in the process.

"Are you sure you don't need any feminine products?" Sherlock asked me and I looked over at him and rolled my eyes as he smirked back at me. I knew what he was doing and it wasn't going to work. He was trying to make me feel uncomfortable. Sadly for him, I could turn this around on him.

"Are you sure you don't need any?" I quipped back with a little grin, catching John having to bite his tongue to hold in his laugher. Sherlock acted more like a PMSing girl than I did most days especially when he needed his nicotine fix.

"Mmm, no, fine thanks," Sherlock told me, less amused than he was before. I wasn't going to let him get out of this that easily though. Oh no, let it be said for the record that Lexi MacKenna never goes easy on a ball busting.

"Are you sure? Don't need more conditioner?" I asked him, John finally losing it and coughing out a laugh as Sherlock fixed me with an icy glare. "Don't deny it, you care for your hair better than I do," I accused him, pointing my finger at him.

Sherlock glared at me for a few seconds longer as John managed to get control of himself. "We're fine John," He told him and I giggled at his scowl. Check and mate. Lexi one, Sherlock nil. Teach him to try and mess with me. I survived Mycroft, Sherlock was nothing compared to him.

"Alright then, just don't blow up the flat," John told us as he hesitantly made his way to the door, not sure if he should leave us alone in the flat together. He was probably afraid that we were going to end up killing each other. Sherlock and I looked at each other despairingly and rolled our eyes in unison before I looked back at John with a large grin on my face.

"But what if the urge gets to be too much? With if our lives depend upon us blowing up the flat? What do we do then?" I asked John with a completely straight face before breaking out in a fit of giggles at the despairing expression John threw my way.

"Stop that," Sherlock snapped at me which only made me giggle louder. He huffed and turned to John as I held my hand over the stich in my side. I took a deep breath, wiping a single tear from my eye as I began to calm down. Okay, so Sherlock was partially right. I did have a slight hormonal imbalance today. "The flat will still be standing, I assure you," Sherlock told John as he shot him a fake smile and got up, his robe billowing around him as he put his laptop on the desk and picked up his violin on his way over to the window.

"Right. Good," John said with a nod before he started down the stairs, having apparently decided that it was better to leave us alone together in the flat to stay with me since I was acting completely mental. It wasn't my fault my hormones were all out of whack, blame Mother Nature. Sherlock started playing and I got up to get my viola out to join him, but, as if he knew what I was doing, he turned around, fixing me with a disapproving gaze.

"Unless you want me to tell John that your hand still isn't healed enough, I suggest you sit down again," Sherlock told me with an amused smirk playing on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him. Since he had discovered that I was hiding the fact that my hand was still not okay from John, he had been blackmailing me into doing things for him. It was completely unacceptable.

"Please," I whined, as I pouted. Sherlock shook his head and I crossed my arms irritably in front of my chest and plopped down heavily in Sherlock's chair just to annoy him. "You are worse than your bloody brother," I complained as I stared back at Sherlock with narrowed eyes as he continued to play. After a few more notes, I realized he was playing Paganini's Caprice No. 11. Sherlock turned back to the window, with a huge bloody smirk on his face and after a few more notes I realized that the song had morphed into La Habanera.

"You hum this a lot, did you know?" Sherlock said, finally breaking the silence in the flat. I looked over my shoulder at the consulting detective who had turned his body slightly so he was half facing me again. "When you're thinking, you start humming it," He continued and I shrugged at him before I got up and crossed over to him and stood before him as he continued to play.

"It helps me think," I answered him simply as I looked up into his eyes. Today they were swirled blue, gold, and green. I shared a look with him and grinned up at him before giggling and darting off towards my room. "Don't blow up that flat," I told him in a mocking tone as I pointed back at him. "What would John say?" I asked him as I put a hand over my mouth in feigned shock.

Sherlock's deep baritone chuckle filled the flat, mixing with my high pitched giggle as I made my way back to my room. I pulled up the sheets in resemblance of making an effort to make my bed before I went over to my closet and pulled a pair of black tights out of my drawers and grabbed the jumper I had stolen from John. In my defence, his jumpers were really nice and cosy. I stayed away from the oatmeal one though, that was his favourite and would probably upset him if I wore it. I opted for his less often worn black and white striped jumper which I had covertly stolen when Mrs. Hudson brought our clothes up from the dryer for me. I took my jumble of clothes into the bathroom and started running the water for a nice scalding shower as I finger combed through my hair with my good hand. I still had to be careful with what I did with my other hand. If I put too much strain of my knuckles, they were threatening to break all over again. They were still bruised and looked rather nasty and I was still wearing my hand brace, but I refused to get put in another cast until they healed completely. For now, I would listen to Sherlock when he told me not to do something if it meant John would never know or Mycroft for that matter. I wasn't sure who would be worse, the army doctor or the British Government.

I jumped into the shower, sighing with delight as the first spray of hot water hit my back, the heat working its way into the deep knots in my shoulders. I stood in the spray, letting the water wash over me for a long moment. There was no case today which meant I would be hard pressed to keep Sherlock busy. I got bored myself without something to do, but Sherlock really could get up to trouble even if it was for only a brief break in the monotony of everyday life. I rolled my eyes when I figured out why John had rushed out of there that morning to go to the store. The bloody bastard probably knew Sherlock was going to be a pain in the arse without a case and had left me to deal with him alone. After I got out of the shower, I would figure out something to keep Sherlock busy. Maybe we could go to the park. Yes, that sounded lovely. We could sit and deduce people together. I reached for my apple scented shampoo and squirted some out onto my palm, scrubbing it roughly through my long tresses. Maybe John was right and it was time for a trim. I didn't think Mycroft would let me cut it though. He seemed fascinated with my hair. I had caught him staring at it and he had played with strands of my hair on more than one occasion. It was the same with John and Sherlock when they watched me fixing it as if they were entranced by it. I was never going to understand men. I theorized that they had hair envy.

After I was certain I had gotten all of the shampoo out of my hair, I scrubbed my body and then shut the water off. I wrapped my large fluffy towel around myself and gingerly got out of the tub before attacking my hair with the towel, drawing as much water out of it as was possible. I pulled on my tights and John's jumper before I set about drying my hair. It took a good fifteen minutes before it was completely dry and then I had to brush it out before I pulled it up into a high pony tail. I nodded once at my reflection before balling up my clothes and returning to my bedroom to dump my clothes in my basket. I pulled on my black ankle boots before I padded back into the living room to find Sherlock sitting in his chair upside down, much like I had sat on our first case together. He had his eyes closed and I caught sight of the two nicotine patches on his arms. I rolled my eyes as I walked over to him and bent down so that our faces were closer together.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" I asked him with a little giggle as he lazily opened one eye and looked back at me, sighing heavily. John missed these moments which I liked to call 'Sherlock is being sweet' moments. Sure, he could still be snappish at times and difficult to be around, but then there were times when he was like this.

"It's called perspective, Lexi. One must approach things from different angles and points of view," He answered me as he closed his eye again. Thankfully for him, I knew what he actually meant and I had a solution for it.

"Bored?" I asked him as I straightened up and stared fondly down at the childlike detective. He opened his eyes and stared up at me, his eyes conveying this very sentiment. If I was bored, he must have been fighting the urge to run around the flat just for something to do. I knew it was hard for me to sit still during these periods of torpor. It didn't help that he was also on more nicotine than was strictly healthy. Then again we did have a higher tolerance for most drugs.

"Bored," Sherlock agreed as he hauled himself up and moved so he was sitting properly in the chair. Well, that was easily remedied. Besides, it wasn't good for us to just sit around the flat all day, drinking tea and staring at the ceiling until we got another case. London was our stomping grounds, the city always moving and we should be too. There had to be something interesting we could do to pass the time.

"Go get dressed then," I told him as he got to his feet. He raised an eyebrow at me, but maneuvered around me, still heading in the direction of his room. At least he was listening to me, for now. I was quite sure there would be some questioning.

"Why?" He asked me and I snorted at that so typical Donovan question. She did have such a lovely grasp of the English language. Her vocabulary so diverse. I hated to say it but Anderson came out with more intelligent response than she did half the time. I was right too. Here was the questioning.

"Because, we're going out," I told him as I pushed him in the direction of the hallway. He stood there, staring back at me, his robe hanging limply around him, his curls an unruly mess on the top of his head. I held back a giggle as I saw that one particular cowlick was sticking up at an odd angle. "Go on," I said as I shooed him off towards the hallway. He watched me for a second longer before turning and complying, heading into his room. He was acting almost like a child who didn't fully understand what you wanted of them or why they were doing it but was doing it anyway.

I went into the kitchen as Sherlock walked out of his room and into the bathroom. The sounds of him showering reached my ears as I routed around in the kitchen cupboards, finally finding the thermos I had been searching for. I cleaned it and set about making some tea. While the kettle was set on to boil, I pulled some fruit out of the fridge and threw it together in a fruit salad. I knew I probably was going to be pushing my luck if I tried to get Sherlock to eat anything beyond that. One the kettle boiled, I made the tea the way Sherlock liked it and threw the thermos and the container of fruit into my case bag just as Sherlock came out of the bathroom in just a towel as he returned to his room.

"My eyes!" I cried as I held my hand up to my cover my eyes in mock horror. "I think you just blinded me. Cover up Fabio," I called back to the detective, which turned around and made a point of walking into the living room. He raised an eyebrow at me as he stood in the living room, his hair still wet and dripping on the rug as he smirked at me.

"What, does it embarrass you?" Sherlock asked me challengingly and I smirked back at him as I put my hand on my hips. Sherlock didn't even faze me. I had seen things far worse, like cadavers back in the day. In fact, now seeing Sherlock shirtless, I could see he was rather fit and muscular even if it didn't seem that way. I was most certainly not checking out my flat mate though.

"Nope," I told him and he chuckled, not believing me. "Anthea and I once walked in on Mycroft. Seeing your brother naked is a lot worse," I told Sherlock with a shudder and his smirk immediately turned into a grimace. "The therapy bills were substantial, I assure you," I told him and he looked like he wanted to be sick as he thought about what I had seen. "Exactly," I told him with a nod.

"My apologies for you having to witness that," Sherlock told me before he turned around, heading back to his room. "In the future, I suggest you knock if you want to preserve your innocence," Sherlock called back at me and I raised an eyebrow at his implications. Okay sure, I had never…well done that before, but it wasn't like Sherlock knew that. There was no way he could have deduced that. For all he know some very lucky guy out there had fond memories of his night with me. Not that there was a guy.

"Yeah, and you should remember the same. Wouldn't want to scar you for life!" I shouted back to him, he had left the door to his room open, presumably so he could continue with our conversation. Sherlock's phone rang from the desk and I crossed the room and picked it up. Lestrade calling, well maybe today would be a lot more interesting than I originally thought it would.

"Nudity doesn't alarm me," Sherlock called back and I smirked at that and crossed back over to peer down the hallway as I answered the phone and brought it up to my ear. In hindsight, I probably should have waited to speak.

"So I could just walk around the flat naked and it wouldn't faze you in the least bit?" I scoffed just as Lestrade started to speak on the line. His words died immediately as he registered who was speaking and what they were saying.

"Lexi?" Lestrade asked me and I heard the little stammer in his voice. "Um, what are you doing with Sherlock's phone?" Lestrade asked me as I went and sat down on the arm of the couch, picking at the end of John's jumper.

"Sherlock's getting dressed, so I answered his phone," I told Lestrade who I heard take in a long breath on the other side of the phone.

"Am I missing something here?" He asked me and I frowned as I heard Sherlock tearing through his room.

"By all means, feel free to do so," Sherlock called back to me and I shook my head at that before answering Lestrade. It might not faze Sherlock but John might have some problems with it. While I dressed conservatively I really was comfortable with my body. With that being said, I didn't have to walk around scantily clad all the time. I did occasionally wear things that were a little showier than the oversized jumper I was currently sporting, but I reserved that kind of attire for certain occasions only.

"I don't know, I think I'm missing something," I told Lestrade truthfully as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had no clue where he was going with this. In fact, I was feeling a little lost myself.

"Are you and Sherlock…?" Lestrade started just before I figured out what he was talking about. I had said something about walking around the flat naked and then I answered Sherlock's phone and said he was getting dressed. Unless you knew the context of the first conversation, none of that sounded remotely good.

"Oh God, Greg no!" I cut him off as I jumped to my feet, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "No, Sherlock was just getting ready for us to head out. We most certainly were not doing that!" I told Lestrade firmly as I put a hand over my eyes. Great, if anyone in the Yard found out about this conversation there would be so many assumptions.

"Alright, just checking," Lestrade said sounding relieved that he had been wrong. "It's a good thing you're both ready and hopefully dressed," Lestrade joked with a barking laugh and I joined in, albeit slightly forced. God that was mortifying. Sherlock and I were friends. I was not shagging my flat mates, no matter what people thought about the three of us living together. I didn't get why people thought women and men couldn't live together and just be friends. It was stupid. So what if my flat mates were both men. That didn't automatically mean they wanted to get with me or I with them. Women and men could just be friends and live together.

"Do you have a case for us?" I asked Lestrade to change the subject just as Sherlock walked out of his room, fully dressed in one of his suits and his purple dress shirt which cut a fine figure on him. His expression brightened as he heard my words and the possibility of a case.

"Yeah, can't give you too many details over the phone. A bomb went off this morning in Central London at a web design firm, I really need to both of you to take a look for me. We've got no leads, may you can make sense of what happened," Lestrade said sounding tired. I looked up at Sherlock who was waiting expectantly and brought the phone down to my shoulder.

"Bombing in Central London, web design firm. Lestrade wants us to come take a look," I told Sherlock and he nodded gesturing for me to hand him his phone. I gave it over to him and he raised it to his ear.

"Where?" Sherlock asked him as he motioned for me to get my coat. I slung my coat and scarf on before slinging my case bag over my head. Sherlock crossed over to the door and I helped him into his coat as he stayed on the phone with Lestrade making a comment every few seconds. I took his scarf down off of the peg behind the door and slung it around his neck, tying it up for him. I patted his arm as I passed by him and headed down the stairs. He followed after me and as we got outside to the curbing, he ended his call with Lestrade and we hailed a cab. We packed inside the back seat together and the cab shot off as soon as Sherlock gave the address to the cabbie.

"Do you want me to call John and have him meet us there?" I asked Sherlock as I got out my phone, already having to let Mycroft know where I was headed for the day.

"I'll text him. Let Mycroft know that we have a case and he isn't to disturb you. Your help is valuable to me and I don't need my brother taking up your time which can be used to help solve this case with his trivial matters," Sherlock told me and I looked over at him in surprise. He didn't catch my look as he was looking down at his phone which I was thankful for. He actually valued my help? I mean, I knew he was working with me on cases, but I would have thought he would have found me more of a hindrance than a help. He was brilliant enough to solve these cases without me and I was a little rusty. I smiled fondly at the consulting detective before texting out a quick missive to Mycroft. He told me to be careful, but that was the extent of the reply I got from him. He must be doing something that was taking up his time considerably if he didn't put up a fight about me not updating him constantly to what I was doing. Telling him I was on a case and he wasn't supposed to bother me never stopped him from doing so in the past. That or he was trusting me. **(A/N Actually sweetie, Sherlock might have called his brother and had some words with him.)**

We rode the rest of the way to the crime scene in companionable silence. When we arrived, the rode was blocked off so we had the cabbie drop us off a street over. Sherlock paid him before helping me out of the cab. I bundled my coat around me tighter. It was a bit chilly this morning as it was the middle of March. I didn't even register when Sherlock brought his hand up and rubbed my arm slightly to try and fight off the chill. He offered me his arm and I took it was we walked back to the crime scene. Lestrade was already waiting for us out front which we were thankful for because it was still way too early to be dealing with Anderson and Donovan. I did catch them lurking over near the far end of the police tape shooting dirty looks our way, but I chose to ignore them as Sherlock lifted the police tape up for me and we both ducked under it. The front of the web design firm looked fine, except for the blown out windows. Most of the blast had probably taken out the interior then which meant that the bomber had meant to kill those inside. That was the end game. John still hadn't made it here yet, but Sherlock showed me the text that John had sent him. He was on his way over to the crime scene now.

"Thank you for coming down," Lestrade told us as we met up with him out front. He looked down at our conjoined arms before throwing me a look. I raised an eyebrow at him, someone sure was curious this morning. I could link arms with whomever I chose to. It was nearly elven now so it couldn't have been long since the bomb went off given the amount of police personnel that were still milling around the crime scene.

"Where did the bomb go off?" Sherlock asked Lestrade getting right down to business. Lestrade led us inside of the web design firm, shooting glances back at Sherlock and I occasionally. I would admit that Sherlock and I were standing closer than normal, but I also noticed that the way he was holding my arm was effectively concealing my hand in the folds of his coat. He was trying to hide my hand so Lestrade wouldn't get suspicious. He was actually looking out for me.

"The blast detonated in the southeast corner around 9:15 this morning. Killed two people, Dave Preston and Royce Maltz, and injured eleven more," Lestrade told us as we came to a stop in the room torn apart by the explosion. Someone had certainly knew what they were doing when they put the bomb together. It wasn't so strong that it completely blew up the firm, but it was strong enough to blow up the main room. Those eleven people were lucky that they were alive. Wires and insolation were hanging from the ceiling, bits of twisted metal covered the room, and almost every inch of it was covered in pieces of dry wall.

"Chemical composition of the device?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as he swept his eyes around the room. The room was, well to put it mildly, it looked like a bloody mess. The concrete dust was still hanging in the air, effectively creating a hazy mist over the crime scene. Rubble covered the floor, making it hard to find a place to stand and it looked like the Yarders were having a hard time investigating the crime scene due to the mess. I could just see a sprained ankle waiting to happen given my luck so far. Of course, the only time I had gotten physically hurt on a case so far was technically my doing.

"Bomb squad's working on it, all they know for sure is that the bomb was stashed in that air vent," Lestrade told us as he pointed to the vent in question which definitely looked like the epicentre of the bomb. In fact, there wasn't even a vent remaining, just a large gaping hole in the wall.

"And both of the victims were employees of this company?" I asked Lestrade as Sherlock helped me walk over the rubble that littered the floor. Behind us we heard the sound of John, obviously shouting angrily back at Donovan who sounded like she was refusing to let him in. Of course she was, it didn't matter than two people had died, eleven people were injured, Scotland Yard had no leads on their bomber, and the only chance they had of finding something for their investigation depended on Sherlock and me. No, she was going to be difficult and not let John in just because she had to be a perpetual pain in my arse. "Hold that thought," I told Lestrade tetchily as I jumped off of the rubble I was standing on, Sherlock steadying me when I stumbled slightly before we left the way we came to collect John.

"You can't go in there," Sally was arguing with John as we got outside the building. John looked relieved when he saw us. Don't worry John, we were coming to the rescue.

"Yes, Sally, he can. He's with us," I told Donovan who sneered at me as John walked around her to join us. "John," I told the army doctor who was looking between Sally and I uncomfortably.

"It's bad enough he lets you freaks in," Sally shot back at me and I growled under my breath at her. That was it! I had never done one thing to Sally Donovan. In fact, I would go far as to say that I had actually helped her career. I didn't take credit for all of the cases I had solved before which made Lestrade and all of his division look good in the eyes of the superintendent. If anything, I should have been the one to constantly get into arguments with her, but I chose to take the moral high ground. I would never forgive her for what she had done, but I was trying to be the better person and get past that. It wasn't professional and neither was Donovan.

"That 'freak' puts away more criminals than all of NSY combined. So, if you would kindly like to remove your head from your arse and look around for once and actually use your brain, then you can complain about having us here. Until that point, stop inflicting your opinions upon everyone, you only make yourself sound like an ignoramus," I shot back at her as she stared back at me in shock because it was the first time I had finally said something to her besides just brushing her off with a sarcastic comment. Her surprise quickly turned to anger and she was about to angrily retort as I seethed, but Sherlock held up his hand and put his other on my shoulder. All of my anger washed out of me as I looked up at Sherlock who only had to give me a look before I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"As always Sally, I find our conversations enthralling. However we have actually important work to get to," Sherlock said as he affectively turned me and pushed me towards the door, getting me as far away from Donovan as he could. I looked back, glaring at Donovan once, before I complied and just walked back inside the building. Sherlock followed after me, his hand on the small of my back as he led me back to Lestrade. He knew why I disliked Donovan, why what she said bothered me. He was trying to prevent me from causing a larger scene that would further delay us from examining the crime scene or worse, get us sent off the case. John followed us back into the main room, gasping as he took in the crime scene. "As you were saying Detective Inspector," Sherlock said as we stopped in front of him again.

"Parabolic Web Industries. They design and maintain corporate websites. We're looking into whether anybody had beef with the firm," Lestrade told us as he carefully scanned my body language and expression, frowning slightly. He looked to Sherlock and then nodded as I watched Sherlock make a gesture to him out of the corner of my eye. Lestrade shrugged before he handed the three of us some gloves. I snapped mine on and flexed my fingers. I tried not to grimace at the pain in my hand. It was starting to swell. I left it down at my side, trying to hide it. I jumped slightly as Sherlock's fingers brushed lightly over my knuckles in a gesture of comfort.

"Detective Inspector? You got a minute?" One of the sergeants asked Lestrade as he walked up to us. I snuck a peek at Sherlock and he was looking down at me quizzically. I smiled at him sheepishly before looking away from him.

"Sure," Lestrade told him and the two headed away. Sherlock helped me over the wreckage as we climbed over it, inspecting the scene, his hand in mine as he made sure I didn't fall on my face. I noticed that recently, he was getting more used to the physical contact. Of course, he didn't quite get the concept of personal space so I really couldn't be blamed.

"Is that my jumper?" John suddenly asked behind us and I looked over at him over my shoulder as I balanced on what looked to use to be a desk given the amount of wood. I grinned at John sheepishly as Sherlock took my hand in his and helped me over to the other side of the wreckage, to where the vent was, the only way to get to there being the way we had come.

"Yeah, it is," I told John truthfully. He looked at me exasperatedly as Sherlock founded something to place under where the vent used to be so we could take a look into the large hole.

"And you couldn't wear your own?" John asked me exasperatedly as Sherlock helped me up onto what used to be someone's desk before he climbed up next to me.

"As I said, she's menstruating. Women apparently desire comfortable clothes during this time. I don't remember anything else," Sherlock said as he looked into the vent. I crossed my arms and looked back at him. Okay, yeah, I did have some cramps, but he couldn't just pass everything off on that. John seemed to be at a loss for words at that response. 'Seriously Watson?' I thought, raising an eye at the army doctor. He could invade Afghanistan, be a doctor, get shot at, chase a criminal throughout London, but a girl with her period is where he drew the line?

"In my defence, your jumpers are incredibly comfortable," I told John as Sherlock moved so I could get my own look into what used to be the vent. I pulled my glasses out of my case bag and slipped them onto my face. The bomb had definitely gone off here, but from the scraps of metal still in the hole, I would have to say that something else had been in the vent besides the bomb. "There was something else in here besides the bomb," I told Sherlock as I pulled my head out of the gaping hole of the used to be vent. He hopped down before helping me jump down by lifting me by the waist and setting me on my feet which I was not expecting.

"Don't want you to hurt yourself again. You would be less than useful on cases," Sherlock told me before striding off. I rolled my eyes at him before stalking off in the opposite direction, scanning the floor.

"See this?" Sherlock asked me and I turned as Sherlock walked over to me carrying a piece of debris which he handed to me to inspect. "That's packing paper. It's used to fill the gap between the fuel and the blast cap on a pipe bomb. When the bomb detonates, this paper is ejected through the barrel before it has time to fully combust. Now, weapons-grade munition uses pulp filler. Not newspaper," Sherlock told me as Lestrade walked back into the room, catching the end of Sherlock's explanation.

"Bomb squad said the same thing. They're already running a check on recent commercial burglaries, see if anyone's missing any flammable chemicals or gunpowder," Lestrade told us as Sherlock spotted something else on the floor over my shoulder and stepped across the room, crouching down to take a closer look. He picked up the piece of debris from the floor, turning back to me to show me his discovery.

"You got something?" Lestrade asked him as I frowned at what he had found. It was a piece of what looked to be from a computer, but upon closer inspection of it I discovered that it was a motherboard. That wouldn't have interested me, this was a web design firm after all and they would have had many computers, but this was a specific sort of motherboard.

"It's a motherboard," I explained to Lestrade as Sherlock handed it over to me. I turned it over in my hands, inspecting it closely. This certainly did not belong here. Sherlock was on to something. First the packing paper and now the mother board.

"You know this is a computer company, right?" Lestrade asked me and I looked up at him despairingly. Part of me understood that not everyone knew everything, but some amount of common sense had to be used. We wouldn't be interested in something unless it was important. I was glad Lestrade had called us over to look at the crime scene, it was apparent that Lestrade's team would have missed this piece of evidence. People saw, but they didn't observe.

"Well, that's just it, Lestrade. This is not from a computer, it's from a pager. It has a receiver but not a transmitter. So, what would it be doing here? Before the explosion this place looked like the console room of the Tardis. It's very unlikely that any of the firm's employees would use technology as obsolete as a pager," I explained to Lestrade as I showed him the motherboard Sherlock had found. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at my computer knowledge. Good, I could still surprise him.

"You're saying it's part of the bomb then?' Lestrade asked us and I nodded at him.

"We're saying this may be the bomb's detonator," Sherlock informed him as he handed the motherboard over to Lestrade. "The good news is, if it's not too badly damaged, you'll be able to trace the account," Sherlock told him before adding. "That is unless all the members of your division are incompetent. Let's hope not."

"I'll get this to tech assist right away. I'll let you know when we hear something," Lestrade told us, not even bothering to comment on Sherlock's jibe at the competency of his staff before he left us to go give the mother board over to the right people.

"If the motherboard is still functional, how long do you think it's gonna take the police to get a number?" John asked us as I looked down at my feet, my eye being caught by something that definitely looked like it didn't belong there.

"Two, maybe three hours," Sherlock told him with a sigh as I bent down, to retrieve what had caught my attention. "What is it?" Sherlock asked me as I straightened up, holding a very mangled camera up at eye level.

"I think someone was watching this," I told Sherlock as Lestrade entered the room again, I made my way over the wreckage to him and showed him the camera. "Someone knew this was going to happen. The trajectory of where this camera landed meant it probably was in the vent with the bomb. So there must have been another camera, somewhere…," I said as I scanned the room for a possible location. "There," I said pointing over to the corner of the room that was surprising still mostly intact. I handed the mangled camera off to Lestrade as I climbed my way over to where another camera was set up on the wall. "This one belonged to the firm," I said as I frowned, Sherlock making his way over to me.

"It's still on," He noted as we watched the little red light flashing on the side of the camera, which immediately swivelled down and we watched as the lens zoomed in on us.

"And still watching us," I realized before springing up on a desk that had been pushed into the corner, reaching in my bag and pulling out wire cutters before dismantling the camera. It shut off and I looked back at the men. "Someone wanted to watch his work," I said as I put my wire cutters away and Sherlock helped me down. "And that was not Mycroft," I told Sherlock. I knew Mycroft and that was not him.

The four of us shared a look. "So where does this leave us?" John asked us, breaking the settled silence in the midst of our discovery.

"This leaves us with a whole bigger problem," I told John as I looked up at Sherlock and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. "Text us when you get the number off of the motherboard," I told Lestrade as I looked back at him.

"Where are you going?" Lestrade asked us as Sherlock and I moved towards the door. We shared a look before looking back at Lestrade with grins on our faces.

"The game is on!" We said in unison before flipping up the collars of our coats and striding off together out of the crime scene. It didn't matter that it looked absolutely ridiculous. I couldn't get the smirk off my face. There was just something that came alive in me when I was with Sherlock working on a case.

We stood together outside, facing opposite directions as John came to stand just behind us. The detectives and their army doctor against the world. I looked back at Sherlock over the top of my collar and we studied each other like we so often did since we first met. We were so alike, but at the same time so different. I knew that he had noticed it too. There was a new wind blowing and London seemed a lot different than it used to. Sure, the city was still beautiful and the sun still rose and set over the gleaming buildings like it always had and always would, but the city was changing. Crime and criminals were also changing. For once, the city seemed a little bit darker as if something was coming. There was one name no one said and it seemed as if the game had only just begun. I had to wonder if we were just pawns in this game or active players.


	24. The King Is In His Counting House

**(A/N) Thank you to Dimondtearsx or Ames for drawing the new cover art for this story. I love it sweetie thank you. Another chapter for you all. See you back here next Sunday. xoxo Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Two- The King Is In His Counting House<strong>

"**Picnics are very dear to those who are in the first stage of the tender passion."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle**

**Lexi's POV**

The case was at a standstill. We had returned to Baker Street only for Sherlock to promptly complain to us that he was bored. We couldn't continue with the case until they had recovered the number off of the pager. Sherlock said this case was only a four and barely even worth our time. I agreed with him that it wasn't as interesting as normal, but I couldn't complain too much, it had been something to do for at least a little while. It was already the middle of the afternoon seeing as it had taken us some time at the crime scene and talking with Lestrade and it looked like we might be waiting a while until we got a call from Lestrade with anything. John was sitting with his laptop, watching Sherlock who had settled into his prayer position on the couch. I had taken up residence in Sherlock's chair, promptly adopting my meditative pose. I decided that now would be a good time to peruse my mind. Sherlock had told me that he had what he called a "Mind Palace" which was similar to the way I viewed my own mind. I wouldn't go so far as to call it a mind palace. It was just a memory technique that worked. It was a very useful technique, especially in my line of work.

I decided to evaluate my life since moving into Baker Street. I had almost been living here with John and Sherlock for two weeks. In that time, we had worked three cases together. The last two weeks had honestly been the best time of my life. I couldn't remember a time when I had ever laughed more. John and I got along like old friends already. We joked and messed around and fought like siblings would. Sherlock and I on the other hand, I wasn't sure what we were. We were friends, certainly. We fought childish battles, mostly over things like his chair and use of the kitchen for experiments, but it was so hard to tell where you stood with him. Sometimes, he was snappish and rude and those were the times I would just roll my eyes and humour him. Other times, he was nice and even really sweet like when we were at the crime scene and he held me hand the entire time to make sure I didn't fall and hurt myself. There was also the looks we would share, our silent conversations, or just things that only the two of us knew. I found myself very comfortable around Sherlock, exceedingly so.

I knew that Mycroft didn't like that I was with his brother. I understood that he thought that Sherlock wasn't responsible and couldn't take care of himself. He had told me that any relationship with Sherlock would only end badly for me. I couldn't agree with him on that though. Yes, Sherlock didn't take the best care of himself. He didn't eat most of the time and hardly slept, but then again so did I. He was self-sufficient before we had met him, he hadn't keeled over yet. He also seemed in reasonably good health, he was certainly fit from running around London. As for our relationship ending badly, I just couldn't see that. Sherlock wasn't as bad as Mycroft claimed. In fact, both men were not as bad as the other claimed. Living with Sherlock, well that was another story. I already knew that wasn't going to be easy and as much as I loved John the same could be said for him. I knew we would probably have are arguments. It was difficult to get along all the time and there would be days when I was probably ready to kill one or both of them. Be that as it may, I just couldn't give this up. Baker Street was like the home I had never had and John and Sherlock already had found a place in my heart. I jumped suddenly when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Amygdala!" I said before I opened my eyes. I heard someone clear their throat and I looked up to find John staring at me worriedly. I grinned sheepishly up at him. Well, that was rather embarrassing.

"You okay?" John asked me raising one eyebrow as he moved to his chair and sat across from me as I brought my feet up to my chest and hugged them as I chuckled embarrassedly. Some habits were best to keep to yourself at first.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking," I told him and he didn't look completely sold by that response. I was honestly just thinking. I could often lose myself very quickly in my mind.

"She hypnotized herself. Simple, the key is word repetition. Her word is amygdala," Sherlock said from the couch and I looked over at him and shrugged my shoulders. It wasn't as much hypnosis as I just started thinking and ended up blocking everything out. It worked well when I was forced to go places with Mycroft like when he would make me his date for important government galas. I hated those things, but Mycroft always insisted that I accompany him because he needed a guest who wouldn't leak government secrets. Of course, I wasn't always the best choice. I wasn't kidding about Mycroft thinking I was a threat. I could have made it as a very good criminal if I hadn't decided to catch them instead. The same could be said for Sherlock.

"You hypnotized yourself?" John asked me sceptically and I nodded at him. Sherlock was half right after all. So, it wasn't exactly like hypnotism, but the principle was the same. I had been categorizing information while I was thinking, hence the reason why I had said amygdala. I had just gotten to my medical knowledge section of my brain. It was very easy to sort through you mind, tidy up the clutter, while you were thinking. It was almost like rebooting your hard drive. Every so often you need to throw the rubbish in the bin so you could get to the important stuff.

"Sort of. It's like an attic theory. I've always believed the human brain is like an attic. It's like a storage space for facts. But because that space is limited, you can only fill it with the most important information you need to make the best version of yourself. It's important, therefore, not to have useless information jumbled up in it. Of course, since I remember everything I come across, it can get jumbled often so you have to take time to reorganize everything. It' like a memory device. Theoretically if you need to remember something, you need only find where you stored it," I explained to John as Sherlock watched me interestedly. Mycroft had helped be develop my "attic" over a period of time. I always had a way of remembering things, but he had helped me refine it, just as he had taught me how to deduce people. I already knew how to before I met him, but he turned it into a challenge for me to push me to do better. Mycroft had sort of taken me under his wing when we met. He encouraged me to apply myself and through his encouragement I became better at what I did. Of course I really hadn't had anyone to push me like Mycroft did before I met the man. I had two people that help me yeah, but not like he did.

"An attic?" John asked me and I nodded at him as he made this adorable confused face. I had learnt that John's face was very expressional and he could actually relate what he was thinking with just a look. My favourite thing he did was the angered sniff. Oh the angered sniff! It was seriously the most hilarious thing I had ever seen and I couldn't help but crack up whenever I caught him doing it. "You do know how mental that sounds?" John asked me and I giggled as I put my feet back down on the floor.

"It all depends on how you look at it," I told John with a shrug as I looked over at Sherlock again and found he was back in his prayer position, probably lost in his own mind. Mycroft told me he could stay like that for hours and once had gone two days without moving. I wasn't sure if he was actually thinking though, or if he was listening to us. There was just something about his expression that told me he wasn't tuning us out like he wanted us to think. Part of me believed that he acted like he wasn't listening so he wouldn't be required to take part in conversation. Sherlock liked his peace and quiet, his time to think. I liked it just as much as he did which was why we got on swimmingly.

"What did you want to do as a kid? Did you always want to be a detective?" John asked me suddenly and I frowned at the randomness of the question. I didn't have an answer for it either which was what confused me so much. Had I always wanted to be a detective? Certainly I wanted to do something with my life that was more meaningful than a normal job. I guess I always wanted to make a difference in some way. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," John added quickly after seeing my frown.

"No, it's alright. I just guess I never thought about it before," I told John as I put a hand under my chin and drummed my fingers on my jaw thoughtfully. Huh, I never did actually consider that question before now that I thought about it. "I guess it's just, when you're a kid, they tell you it's all… grow up, get a job, get married, get a house, have a kid, and that's it. But the truth is, the world is so much stranger than that. It's so much darker. And so much madder. And so much better. Growing up, I don't actually think I ever knew what I wanted to do with my life. I remember wanting to do something brilliant, something meaningful. I didn't want to be the sort of person who conformed to society. I wanted to branch out, do the impossible, and be the person that people thought was brilliant and maybe slightly mad. I chose detective in the end. Growing up, people always fascinated me and so did crime stories. So, I did do something slightly mad and a bit brilliant and I started using my skills to solve crimes. I wouldn't give it up either. Yeah, it's not as glamorous as you would think it would be. Sure, you end up getting hurt on the job often, but it's the thrill of the chase, the complexity of the puzzles that I love about it. Besides, I'm sort of wasted as a writer," I joked, trying to end the serious conversation off on a high note.

"Couldn't have been too terrible," John joked with a grin and I laughed at that as I got up and stretched. I wanted tea and food, food sounded really good about now. That and a nap on the couch. Sadly, the couch was being occupied by Sherlock. Maybe I would just go sit on him until he moved. He seemed to have no problems sitting on me.

"I was utter rubbish," I told John honestly as I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. "Honestly, Mycroft could tell you. Why do you think he was trying to get me go back to solving cases?" I asked John as I popped my head back into the living room.

"So, Lexi MacKenna is a brilliant detective, but can't write?" John teased me with a mocked shocked tone to his voice. I rolled my eyes at him good naturedly. "Good to know you're bad at something, can't always be perfect." With that being said I rolled my eyes at him again, this time a bit more irritably than before. I could write, just not what I was writing. Fiction was hard. There we so many ins and outs and a need to make characters seem believable. I could write about my life, my cases without end. Real life was often times better than any fantasy.

"Har har, laugh it up Watson," I told him as I turned around and started rummaging in the refrigerator. Oh, I loved Mrs. Hudson. She left a casserole in the fridge for us. For all her talk of not being our housekeeper she took care of us more than a landlady would. I was grateful for it as I was honestly too lazy to make anything myself. I grinned and took the casserole out of the fridge, popping it in the oven at the temperature Mrs. Hudson had directed on the tape on note. I made us some tea and brought the mugs back into the living room, passing them around before I plopped back down in Sherlock's chair which was starting to become my favourite spot in the flat.

"Why do you do that?" Sherlock suddenly asked me as he bolted upright and actually started drinking his tea. I looked over at him and furrowed my brow in confusion. "Our last names, why do you only use them sometimes?" Sherlock elaborated slowly with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, that?" I asked him just to annoy him. He nodded his head impatiently and I laughed. "Well, when you are annoying me I resort to your last names. Get used to it Holmes," I told him before dissolving into a fit of giggles at the look on his face, John laughing along with me. I popped up and set the timer on the stove now that it had preheated. Mrs. Hudson was an absolute saint. She was like the mother hen that made life at Baker Street so perfect. I walked back into the living room to find Sherlock still with a scowl on his face. I shook my head and ginned as I sat down again, kicking my legs up over the arm of Sherlock's chair as I reclined.

Sherlock's phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence in the flat. He reached forward and snatched his phone off of the coffee table, checking the caller ID. "Ha," He said triumphantly before answering it. "Lestrade," He said as I popped up and crossed the room, sitting next to him. He glared at me once before putting the phone on speaker. I grinned at him brightly and he rolled his eyes.

"That motherboard you found? Bomb squad confirmed, it was part of the device, so touché. The pager it was part of was pre-paid, so there was no subscriber info, but luckily, the tech assist was able to pull a number off of it and the same phone called the pager three times this morning. And each call was within seconds of the bomb going off," Lestrade told us and I shared a look with Sherlock. That was certainly interesting. That would mean that the call would have had to go through more than one time before it finally trigger the bomb.

"Were you able to trace the number?" I asked Lestrade and I heard him chuckle on the other line.

"Hello Lexi," He said and Sherlock sighed heavily in irritation.

"Hello Greg," I told the D.I with my own laugh before Sherlock interrupted us.

"The number?" Sherlock demanded impatiently. I shook my head at him, it wasn't my fault people loved me. I was actually nice to people and didn't demand them to tell me stuff. As much as I didn't like Anderson I could be civil to him if I needed to be.

"I'm getting to it. We were able to trace the number, yeah. To a plumber named Rennie Jacobs from the East End. Now get this. He just did a six-year stretch for burning down his flat in an insurance fraud scheme," Lestrade told us and I frowned at that. A plumber from the East End decided to blow up a web design firm in Central London? That just didn't sound right. It made no sense, at least none I could think of. The two were unrelated and without the connection to arson I would have to say that neither were connected at all.

"Any particular reason he would want to depredate that web design firm?" Sherlock asked Lestrade taking the words right out of my mouth. At least he was thinking the same thing I was.

"No clue, but, ah, if you want to see him live and in person, he just got here," Lestrade told us, his voice slightly distant for a second as he was no doubt looking over his shoulder at the man who had probably just walked into his division. I nodded at that before answering him.

"We'll be down there shorty," I told Lestrade and he agreed with that before I jumped up. Sherlock immediately moved to get his coat on. "Nope, hold up there. You are eating before we leave," I scolded Sherlock as I moved back into the kitchen and took the casserole out of the oven just as the timer went off.

"We don't have time for this," Sherlock argued with me as he followed me into the kitchen, already in his coat and scarf. My, someone was rather impatient today. Well, that wasn't going to fly with me. I was eating before he dragged me anywhere else. I was making it my point to make sure that we didn't forget to feed John. We were used to running around and not stopping for hours while on a case, but John wasn't.

"Well, too bad," I told him as I started plating Mrs. Hudson's casserole. "I don't care if digestion slows you down or not. You already said this case was no better than a four. I'm hungry, and we are going to eat Mrs. Hudson's casserole before we go off running through London to your heart's content," I told him as I pushed a plate into his hands and walked out into the living room, handing another over to John. Sherlock glared at me as I pointed at the couch, watching him until he sat down. I sat down on the floor by the coffee table and watched as he looked down at his food as if it would actually pain him to eat a little bit of it. I knew he really hadn't eaten much in the last few days.

"This is ridiculous, I'm not a child, you can't force me to eat," Sherlock said finally as I chewed on a bite of the delightful cheesy potato casserole. It would appear that Mrs. Hudson was trying out a few Irish recipes. I raised an eyebrow at the consulting detective. Sure, that totally didn't convince me that he wasn't acting like a child.

"Tell you what. Eat now and I won't bug you for a few days," I offered to him, pointing my fork at him. He stared back at me morosely for a long moment before he finally picked up his fork and took a very small bite of his food. "Don't act like you don't like it," I told him and he glared at me again, but still took another bite. I looked back at John who was looking at me in awe and I just pointed at him with my fork and then at his plate, silently telling him that he was going to eat too. He got the hint and we all ate in silence, Sherlock throwing dirty looks at me every few seconds. I ignored him as I slowly ate my dinner. With Mycroft I had learnt that sometimes you needed to just give him directions and stare them down until they complied. Sherlock, as much as he tried to protest that he wasn't like Mycroft, was just like his brother only even more stubborn. When he finished, he jumped up quickly.

"I've eaten, now can we go?" Sherlock asked me irritably. I chewed on my last bite and titled my head to the side as if contemplating his question. I could see his eyes narrowing as I took my time to answer his question.

"Alright," I agreed with him as I got up and took everyone's plates into the kitchen, popping them into the sink with some water. I came back into the living room to find a very impatient Sherlock who was very irritable. I pulled my coat on before looking back at John and Sherlock sternly. "Now, no running around London for half an hour," I mock warned them before giggling and heading down the stairs in front of the boys.

Sherlock quickly hailed us a cab and he irritably got into the back of it as I grinned at John and slid next into the consulting detective who was acting like an overgrown child that was angry at being told what to do. The ride to the Yard was spent in stony silence, at least on Sherlock's part. John and I were cracking jokes and fooling around. When we got to the Yard, Sherlock bolted from the cab leaving John and I to pay the cabbie. I giggled as I linked arms with John and walked with him inside the Yard.

"How do you do that?" John asked me as we started up the stairs. I noticed that John was taking the stairs more than the elevator. He seemed to be forgetting about his limp more and more. Every so often I caught him rubbing his leg as if it still pained him, but it was definitely less often than when he first moved into the flat. I looked up at him confused, not exactly sure what he was asking me. I was missing something here.

"Je ne sais pas? Qua?" I asked him and he laughed at my expression. (I don't know? What?)

"How do you control him like that?" John asked me as we made it up to Lestrade's division. When we walked into the division Sherlock was flitting around the room, following after Lestrade and pestering him with questions. The poor man looked so flustered.

"I don't, not exactly. I just got good at handling Mycroft. The Holmes boys are the most stubborn men you will ever meet. Looks like I have to do some Sherlock wrangling," I told John as I took my arm back from him and darted over to go save Lestrade from Sherlock. "Breathe Lock," I told him as I walked over to where the two men were arguing. Apparently Lestrade wanted Sargent Donovan to interrogate Jacobs and Sherlock was not having any of that. "Alright, enough you two," I told them sternly. "Let's try and keep things professional here," I told the both of them as they both looked back at me in exasperation. "Don't give me that look. I don't want Donovan interrogating him either, but that's what is going to happen. Now, no arguing and no complaining. I'm PMSing and I don't want to hear it," I told the both of them and both men looked at me with wide eyes. The threat of PMS was enough to get any man to listen to you. "Now, where is our suspect?" I asked Lestrade who swallowed as John came to stand behind me looking very impressed with the way that I handled Sherlock. It was all in a day's work, of course, I couldn't take all the credit. Mummy Holmes had given me tips for handling Mycroft when he was getting out of control. I loved that woman. I still wanted to meet her.

Lestrade led the three of us back to the interrogation rooms, leading us into the observation room where we got to watch an increasingly exasperated Donovan as she questioned Rennie Jacobs. Sherlock and I both made our deductions of our suspect and we both seemed to come up with the same conclusion. This was not our guy, sure he had set off the bomb, but there was no way he had created it.

"I was just trying to call in a breakfast sandwich order, that's it," Jacobs was saying sounding more and more agitated. Lovely, Donovan was trying the bad cop method. It was so clearly obvious that he wasn't our guy. It was painful to watch her.

"Three times you called that pager, Mr. Jacobs. Three times," Donovan told him, not sounding convinced. I groaned and hid my face in Sherlock's shoulder, banging my head against his arm as he looked down at me. I couldn't watch this. It was agonizing. I straightened up and narrowed my eyes at Sherlock's smirk, sticking my tongue out at him.

"You said the pager number was 20 7404 4174, right? I was trying to call Samis Deli. On Farringdon Rd. Their number's off by one digit. 4175. I must've misdialled. 'Cos when they didn't answer, I hit redial. Twice," Jacobs told Sally. As he spoke, Sherlock took out his phone and dialled the supposed number for the deli. I listened as a man from Samis Deli answered, proving that Jacobs was telling the truth.

"Hmm. He's telling the truth about the numbers being off by a single digit," Sherlock said as he hung up his phone and stowed his mobile back in his pocket.

"Yeah, we know. Coincidence bugs me, but not enough to cut him loose. I gotta step out. Bomb squad wants to brief me," Lestrade told us as he left the observation room.

"Our guys found the pager in the rubble at the scene…," Donovan was saying as Sherlock and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. This was why we said that Scotland Yard as always out of their depth. They followed leads like this that got them nowhere.

"You don't look convinced," John said as he glanced at us. I looked over at him and nodded. There was no way this guy was our bomber. Bomb building was dangerous and required precision and detail orientation. This man was the complete opposite of that. Besides that, the man also had no motive for why he would want to bomb a web design firm. A plumber from the East End doesn't just choose to randomly bomb a web design firm. He worked some in Central London, but there was no connection between him or the firm which meant that he really had just misdialled and unknowingly set the pager off.

"Bomb building is a dangerous venture. It requires patience, precision, and attention to detail. Mr. Jacobs' wristwatch is nine minutes slow, and his fly is three-quarters down. Doesn't scream detail-oriented," Sherlock told him and John scoffed at us completely unconvinced. I was glad that Sherlock was also picking up on this. There looked to be more to this case than we originally thought which always proved to be interesting.

"Yeah, and Ted Kaczynski looked like a hobo puked on another hobo and he managed to hurt plenty of people," John said as he looked at Sherlock pointedly. I snorted at that. Okay he was right, but not in this case.

"Point taken," Sherlock said after considering it for a second. I looked at both boys and shook my head. Point so not taken. Sure, anyone could hurt plenty of people, but it took a certain kind of person to do that. That required someone with more skill, more smarts, and certainly more cause than Jacobs.

"Not exactly. Sure, never ignore a coincidence. Unless, of course, you're busy. In which case, always ignore coincidence, but this guy is seriously just a plumber. Sherlock is right. Bomb building is dangerous and you have to be detail oriented. That man does not scream detail oriented to me either. In fact he screams slightly creepy at me but I digress," I told the both of them and John shook his head at me fondly. "Let's go crash the bomb squad debriefing," I told my boys as I linked arms with them, being careful to link my bad hand through Sherlock's arm rather than John's.

We walked out of the observation room together amidst the stares of everyone in the Yard. Sherlock was pulling his general unemotional face, but John seemed amused by my current mood. I wasn't lying I was slightly PMSing which meant that I was not taking anyone's shit today. We found our way to one of the conference rooms where Lestrade was speaking to the bomb squad officer about the bomb that had gone off in the web design firm.

"This is definitely our power source," The bomb squad officer was saying as I broke my hold on the boy's arms and walked forward into the room. Getting my nose into other people's business was my speciality.

"Yeah," Lestrade said before he noticed me, Sherlock and John stepping into the room behind me. "Can I help you?" Lestrade asked me and I grinned at him, waving slightly at the bomb squad officers who were staring at me like I had two heads.

"We'll see," I told Lestrade before grinning at the bomb squad officers. "Hello, lovely day, slightly in a mood so I'll keep this brief. This is the bomb's power source, I presume?" I asked them as I pointed to the photographs on the conference table.

"Six volt," One of the officers answered me, though he continued to look at me oddly. He looked over to Lestrade who I saw shake his head out of the corner of my eye. I nodded at him. Six volt battery and interestingly enough, a little something off about it. Thank the divines that I had an eidetic memory which meant that I had just found a little something that it appeared Sherlock hadn't noticed. He got rid of useless information, but I couldn't.

"Very interesting company, PrimSource Battery you know. It was founded in 1888 by British expat and purveyor of mechanical novelties, Hubert Primler. The company switched to making batteries full-time in 1907, each battery stamped with the company's now-iconic rising sun logo. The logo remained unchanged until 2008, when a small oak tree was added to commemorate the company's centenary. Yet this battery has no oak tree," I rattled off as the bomb squad officer just stared at me. Seriously, had they never seen an Irish detective before? Sure, I seemed short and unassuming, but I was so not in the mood today. And my PMS was getting worse. "Yes, I do this often. You get used to it after a while. Anyway, no oak means that this battery is more than two years old," I continued as I looked up at Sherlock, John, and Lestrade. "Odd, isn't it? Why go to all that trouble building an elaborate explosive device, just to power it with an old and potentially unreliable battery?"

"Odd, yes, but not impossible," The bomb squad officer told me and I raised an eyebrow at him as Sherlock came to stand beside me, figuring out where I was going with this. I leaned forward and grabbed the evidence bag which was filled with bits of filler paper that had been recovered from the crime scene.

"Lexi? Lexi," Lestrade said as he tried to pull me away from the table but I opened the bag and spilled the contents onto the table, littering it with the shredded up newspaper. "I've only got a minute here to pick Bennett's brain before I have to stand in front of twenty cameras to explain what happened this morning," Lestrade told me and I waved him off as I started piecing together the paper with Sherlock's help on the table.

"What about this?" I asked Lestrade as I straightened up and pointed out part of the top of the paper which included a picture that was very familiar. If I was right, than this bomb was a lot older than we originally thought which meant that it might not have been meant for the web design firm. They were just the unlucky people that happened to be there when the bomb finally detonated.

"What about what?" Lestrade asked me as I pointed at the picture of Obama on the shredded newspaper. Did I seriously had to point out everything today? This was their job. They did this for a living. You would think, or hope, that they would realise things like this, but someone these little things always escaped people's notice. It had long been an axiom of mine that the little things are often infinitely the most important. The world was full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observed, thus the reason behind why Lestrade was always at a loss for how to solve a case. The police were always out of their depth because they overlooked the little things, little facts often giving off more information that you would ever imagine, like the button which solved the murder.

"It's the U.S. president," The bomb squad officer scoffed and I looked up at him rolling my eyes. As always, people saw, but didn't observe.

"Wrong, it's the senator," Sherlock told him speaking up. I grinned up at him. I knew he had been dying to tell them they were wrong for a while now. It slightly surprised me that he knew that though since we had already had a discussion in which John and I learnt that he had no idea who our Prime Minister was.

"Detective Inspector…," The bomb squad officer started, looking to Lestrade for help before Sherlock cut him off.

"Senator Obama, not President Obama," Sherlock told him irritably as he pointed out the picture again. "You can tell by the lack of grey in his hair," Sherlock told them and I nodded in agreement with him.

"He's right. I can make out a date on this one," John told them as he stepped closer to us and pointed out the specific piece of paper he had found. "October 13th, 2008," He continued and Sherlock jabbed it approvingly with his finger.

"So, what are you getting at?" Lestrade asked us as he crossed his arms in front of him. I mirrored his pose as I leaned back against the table.

"What we are getting at is that battery is at least two years old, these shreds of newspaper are also two years old," I told Lestrade as I leaned back and looked at the bomb squad officer. "Which collectively means class that the bomb that exploded this morning was two years old," I remarked proudly, taking a little bow. I was on fire today, first I had gotten the line right this morning and now I was figuring out cases. Look at me and my bad self.

"Why would the suspect build a bomb and sit on it for two years?" The bomb squad officer scoffed at me, not taking me seriously at all. Do I just have a face that no one listens to?

"He wouldn't have. And in Rennie Jacobs's case, he couldn't have. He was in prison two years ago. He was telling the truth when he said he dialled the wrong number this morning. We have the man who set it off accidentally in 2010. Now we just need the man who intended to set it off in 2008," Sherlock snapped at them, coming to me defence and helping me out. "I suggest you try and actually find a suspect worth our time Lestrade, in the meantime, we will be doing some actual investigating," Sherlock told him, putting a hand on the small of my back and turning me towards the door. "Come along John," Sherlock told John as the both of us walked out of the room.

"Thank you," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me, raising one of his eyebrows questioningly. "For that, people never want to listen me," I told him as we walked out of the Yard together, having to pass by Donovan who was making sure to loudly make comments about "the freaks" as we passed by her. Normally, it wouldn't get to me, but I wasn't in the best of moods today. I looked back at her and flipped her off before I continued walking beside Sherlock who smirked at my unladylike display. "I wasn't kidding about being in a mood," I warned Sherlock as John caught up with us. "So, where do you suggest we go to do some actual investigating?" I asked Sherlock as we started down the stairs.

"I believe a trip to meet with the previous owners of the building might prove useful. If the bomb was meant to go off two years ago, it was obviously meant for them. Jacobs might be an idiot, but he is no bomber. No, this bomb was meant for the previous owners," Sherlock told me as we got into a cab. I pulled out my phone and grinned at the consulting detective.

"I believe your brother owes me a favour. I'll text him and get the information from him," I told Sherlock who frowned at me. "Don't give me that look. You might not like his help, but I take advantage of it," I told Sherlock as John watched us, specifically me closely. _**"I need to know who the previous owners of what used to be Parabolic Web Industries,"**_ I texted Mycroft quickly before I looked up at John. "Stop looking at me like that," I told him and he looked out of the window with a little grin on his face. "What is that look for?" I demanded him as Sherlock chuckled beside me until I fixed my glare on him. "Fine, stay silent, don't tell me," I told them as my phone alerted me.

"_**Vanowen SC, public relations consultancy. Keeping out of trouble? Flipping off a Sargent? Dear me, someone must be in a mood. –MH"**_ Mycroft's text read and I gritted my teeth and glared at my phone.

"_**Yes, because the best thing to tell a woman in a mood is that she is in one. Hope you don't treat Anthea like that,"**_ I texted him back before looking up and giving the new address to the cabbie. "Alright, so we're back on track," I told the boys who were both giving me looks. "Seriously?! What is with he looks? Is it my face?" I asked them and John shook his head quickly.

"You're just…funny today," John told me, finally settling on a word to describe the way I was acting.

"Yes well, PMSing, get used to it. Mycroft already lived through it, now it's your turn," I told both men, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Right now I could honestly go for a cup of hot cocoa and some Doctor Who reruns. I could also go for a snuggle, but somehow I didn't think I could convince John or Sherlock to go for that. Mycroft wasn't the cuddling sort of person either.

I looked out of the window of the cab and gritted my teeth together, tapping my fingers along my arm. This case was becoming slightly more interesting. Who sat on a bomb for two years? That didn't seem like something someone would just do. So, either they had changed their minds and never dismantled it or something had gone wrong with the initial plans. While the consulting detectives and their doctor travelled across London in their cab, a man stood in front of his cameras, watching their every move throughout the city. They were following his little plan perfectly and the little Irish detective was certainly on her best game. He fixed his suit before turning and nodding at one of his underlings. He would wait as long as he had to, to make sure that everything was perfect, because honey, even a criminal got bored.


	25. It's All Fun And Games

**(A/N) Another chapter for you all. I'm proud of myself for getting it finished. I've had a bad cold all week and haven't felt alright enough to write which sort of sucks because I just started writing the Great Game and it was getting good. Few more days and I should be right as rain and able to get back into it. Thank you for all the reviews and the new followers. It's only going to get better from here. xoxo Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Three- It's All Fun And Games<strong>

"**I abhour the dull routine of existence" - Sherlock Holmes"**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of Four**

The cab continued through the traffic on our way to the illustrious office buildings of Vanowen SC which Mycroft was nice enough to give us the address of. Everything was going fine and dandy until the cab driver drove over a pothole in the middle of the road, effectively jarring all three of us. Sherlock crashed into me, my bad hand getting squished into his bony side. I let out a little pained noise and sucked in a sharp breath at the searing pain that ran through my bruised knuckles. I took in a deep breath willing myself not to cry even though the pain was far worse than when I had initially fractured my knuckles. Sherlock quickly looked down at me, his eyes widening slightly as he realized what he had just done. John looked over at me as soon as he had righted himself, having heard my cry of pain and my intake of breath. Seeing my grimace as I clenched my jaw and tried to work through the pain, his eyes immediately roved down to my hand.

"Are you alright?" John asked me and I nodded quickly as I tried to figure out what I could tell him that he would believe. If John knew about my hand, he would put me in a cast again and while I might actually need one now, that was sure as hell not happening to me again. I didn't want another cast. My hand would heal eventually as long as I wore my brace and was careful.

"Cramps," I told John, grimacing a little again as another shot of pain worked its way from my knuckles and through my fingers. John paled a little at that answer. It was the perfect excuse. He wouldn't ask me too much about it because he would be embarrassed by it and that would effectively end that conversation. From the way John was uncomfortably shifting in his seat, I was right.

"Oh, um, I think I have some paracetamol," John said sheepishly as he checked his pockets. Ever the doctor, he pulled out a bottle of pills from his front pocket and handed it over to me. I was about to open it when Sherlock reached forward and grabbed the bottle for me, shaking out four pills and handing them to me.

"That's too many Sherlock," John cut in as Sherlock handed the bottle back to him. "She can only take two." Sherlock rolled his eyes and huffed in mild irritation as I watched the two men. At this point, I didn't care. My hand now hurt like a SOB thanks to Sherlock bloody Holmes and I was actually getting some bad cramps. Damn Sherlock for being so bloody right all the time.

"Her tolerance to drugs is a lot higher than the average person given her use of illicit drugs in the past. Also, given her high tolerance for alcohol, four is the equivalent of two for her. If you would like to only give her two though, by all means doctor. Though when she goes on a murderous rampage induced by the hormones coursing through her system, I'm sure she will remember that you only allowed her to take two," Sherlock told him with a quirky smile, continuing with my excuse for my pain. My hand hurt worse now as the pain shot through it in spikes. Maybe I would get Mycroft's doctor to check it out for me later. Sherlock definitely jarred something. He looked down at me, his look convey a message only I would understand. _'Are you okay?'_

I glared at him before straightening my expression so John wouldn't get suspicious. _'Do you bloody think so?'_ I asked him irritably through my expression and I saw him wince slightly. PMS and a lot of pain in my hand on top of cramps did not make me inclined to be nice right now. _'Sorry, it wasn't your fault,'_ I relented with an apologetic look as I placed my bad hand on his leg as I clenched my good hand around the pills. It wouldn't do to take out my anger on Sherlock. He hadn't tried to hurt me, it was all just bad luck. I looked at John and saluted him before I popped the pills in my mouth and swallowed them, blenching slightly as the pills slowly slid down my throat. Oh yeah, that was lovely. "Sorry, not listening to doctor's orders right now," I told John as he looked at me worriedly. "You'll thank me later," I assured him as I patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. While John was distracted, Sherlock had picked up my hand in his and had carefully checked my knuckles for any further injury. I was ready for the pain this time around and was able to bite my cheek to keep from hissing in pain. Sherlock cradled my hand in both of his as I sat back in my seat with my eyes closed, trying to move pass the pain. We still had a case to work on and I needed to be okay.

While we sat in traffic for the next half hour, Sherlock held my hand, cradling it in his as the drugs finally started taking affect, taking a slight edge off the pain. Thank Gandhi for calculating the dosage I needed. He was right, because of my drug use before, I had a high tolerance for drugs which meant I normally needed a higher dosage. I knew John didn't approve of self-medicating and not listening to FDA guidelines and dosages, but he would seriously thank Sherlock later when I didn't want to strangle him because of the pain. Mycroft had once joked that I got homicidal around "my time of the month", at which point I had promptly asked him what his excuse was for his. Mycroft was terrible when it came to women and their emotions. He actually made Anthea take the week off whenever it was her time of the month and that was the week I never heard from him when it was mine. John being a doctor was far more understanding, if slightly embarrassed, but Sherlock saw the scientific side in it. I wouldn't put it past him to want to experiment to see the effects of hormones on the female brain and different methods that are supposed to ease the symptoms associated with getting your period. Oddly, I would be okay if he wanted to do that. He might actually figure out a way that would help me better than lying on the couch in the fetal position for seven days while I prayed for it all to stop. Right now, I had a plan of forcing John and Sherlock to watch movies with me, just for an excuse to use them as space heaters while I curled up on the couch for a nap. The human body temperature was a great alternative for a hot water bottle. Oh yeah, this was happening when we finished the case.

When we finally got to the offices of Vanowen SC, Sherlock helped me from the cab, ducking back inside to pay the cabbie before he cradled my hand in his and led the way inside. Mycroft had texted me that he had had Anthea call ahead for us and let them know that we were coming to meet with them. With the help of Mycroft's name, we would have more of a chance to speak with the CEO of the company rather than a liaison. Mycroft's name literally opened doors into many places. I myself had a card that could get me into a lot of places if needed. Of course, it was only to be used if I was working a case for Mycroft and if I ever used it for anything else I would have the entire wrath of the British government knocking at my door which meant Mycroft. He literally was the most powerful man in the British government save for the queen herself. I had actually met the Queen once, but that was not something I was supposed to tell anyone. Mycroft had been meeting with me in the palace and he had gotten invited to have tea with the Queen. Upon hearing that Mycroft had a "lady friend" with him, the Queen had been all too interested in meeting me. As royal as the Queen was, she was like any other woman who loved a bit of gossip. After having worked closely with Mycroft for so long, she probably had been surprised to learn that he was actually friends with a woman. Mycroft of course had threatened me within an inch of my life not to embarrass him. His fears were unnecessary however. The Queen loved me and the fact that when Mycroft had tried to interrupt my explanation of what I did for a living, relating a particularly gruesome homicide case to her, I had told Mycroft he was being rude and had smacked him upside the head. The Queen loved to see a girl with a bit of fire to her and certainly a woman who showed she was just as strong if not stronger than a man. The Queen was totally amazing, how could you not love a woman ruler who didn't take any shit from anyone?

Sherlock, John, and I checked in with the woman at the front desk of the office who told us that she would alert the CEO of our arrival straight away before she left us to wait in the lobby. Sherlock and I sat next to each other on a small and very uncomfortable couch while John sat across from us in an equally uncomfortable chair. This building was all white, neat, symmetrical, and in one word modern. I didn't like it. I loved the messy, unorganized, mismatched decor of Baker Street. That was one of the reasons why I hated hospitals so much. They were all white and sterile and smelt of disinfectant. Knowing my luck and the way my hand felt, I probably would have to make a trip down to the A&E to get my hand recasted. I was not going to be telling John or Sherlock that now though. We had a case which meant I had to be okay. Sherlock wouldn't take kindly to having to be called away in the middle of a case because I needed to get my hand looked at. Besides, it could wait for now. Sherlock seemed to deduce my line of thought from the look on my face because we promptly started an argument all through looks, John going completely unaware of our argument that carried entirely on through our expressions as he read a magazine.

'_You need another cast,'_ Sherlock told me with a pointed look and I narrowed my eyes at him in a glare.

'_No, I don't. I'm fine,'_ I told him with an annoyed huff as I took my hand back from his and crossed my arms, hiding my bad hand carefully in the folds of my arms.

'_No, you're not. Your hand is clearly causing you a lot of pain,'_ Sherlock shot back with a little smug, satisfied smirk on his face.

'_And why do you care?'_ I quipped back, raising one of my eyebrows.

'_With you injured, your usefulness on cases is significantly decreased. You are also more irritable when you are in pain,'_ Sherlock told me with a quirk of his own eyebrow. I blinked back at him and furrowed my eyebrow, cocking my head to the side as I regarded that answer. I could understand that my usefulness was decreased being injured and I was more irritable because I was in pain, but that didn't seem enough for him to be worried about me, if worried really was what you could call it. If anything, he did at least care that I was in pain. My thoughtful frown turned into a little smirk.

'_You actually care and don't deny that you do. Thank you for that by the way. Fine, I'll get it checked out after we solve the case. Gives you incentive to impress me,'_ I told him with a cheeky smile. He glared at me before shaking his head slightly.

'_You are more stubborn than Mycroft,'_ Sherlock told me with a roll of his eyes and I giggled slightly, causing John to look up from his magazine, eyeing us closely with interest.

'_It's a trait of being a woman. Mycroft is just a drama queen,'_ I told Sherlock with a grin which he returned with a slight smirk as John sighed exasperatedly across from us, capturing our attention. We both turned to him, finding him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're doing it again," John said gesturing between the two of us and Sherlock and I shared a look before we both fixed John with a look, each of us raising an eyebrow. "And there you go doing the same expression," John continued. "You do know you do that right?" John asked us and I cocked my head to the side and frowned in confusion.

"What is it exactly that we do?" Sherlock asked him, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands in the prayer position as he watched John. "Do enlighten us John." I snorted at Sherlock and his sarcasm.

"You're doing that thing where you argue through looking at each other and then pull the same expressions. It's creepy," John huffed, crossing his arms in front of him as sniffed. The Watson sniff of exasperation. I wasn't sure if John realized it or not but he had a very expressional face. I had categorized various expressions and what they meant over the last few weeks. There was the nostril flare of anger, the sniff of exasperation, the brow furrow of disapproval, the list sort of went on. It was therefore easy enough to see how Sherlock and I could communicate through facial expressions if I could understand all of that just from one of John's looks. Sherlock and I looked at each other and just shrugged before smirking at John's exclamation of "Dear God!" John sighed heavily before he changed the subject back to the case at hand. "You're sure Jacobs not the one who built the bomb?"

"Sure? No. Reasonably certain? Yes. Scotland Yard can continue to poke and prod him. In the meantime, we can push forward on our new front," Sherlock told him as he got out his phone and started messing with it. I leaned in slightly to Sherlock's side, getting comfortable. I looked up at him innocently as he glared down at me before sticking my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes at me, something that I was starting to realize was our thing with each other but he didn't shake me off like I thought he was going to and instead just went back to what he was doing on his phone.

"It is a, er, nice front," John said as he looked around the lobby. "Very posh, high end."

"Hm?" Sherlock asked him as he looked up from his phone. "Vanowen Strategic Communications. Public relations consultancy. Founded in 1994 by Harrington School of Business alumna Hector Vanowen. The firm is particularly adept at solving image crises of the corporate variety, making them one-stop shopping for many of the Global 500. Spin doctors of the highest order. And…," Sherlock said as he pointed to the television at the far end of the room which was now running the bomb story. "Former tenants of the midtown offices ravaged by a homemade bomb this morning. They occupied the space until December 2008. Now, if we're right, and the bomb was planted that October, this company or one of its employees may have been the intended target," Sherlock finished as two official-looking business people approached us. Thank Gandhi, if I had to sit on these uncomfortable excuses for furniture any longer my butt was going to fall asleep which would mean that Sherlock would find himself having to carry me. What could I say, I was a woman child. I refused to grow up and act my age.

"Mr. Holmes? Ms. MacKenna?" One of the men asked us as Sherlock and I looked up at them briefly before standing, Sherlock helping me to my feet in a gentlemanly fashion. "Hector Vanowen," The man continued as he shook hands with Sherlock first and then with me before he glanced at his associate. "This is Earl Wheeler, my CFO," He introduced as John came to stand next to the both of us. "We were told you work with the police," He said, his tone going up slightly, as though sceptical or questioning.

"We're their consultants," I explained, cutting into the conversation, just knowing that I shouldn't leave it up to Sherlock to explain who we were. Not that I didn't trust him, but it would be best to not accidently offend the people we needed to get information from. I gestured to John before looking back at Vanowen. "This is Doctor John Watson. He is our consultant," I introduced John who nodded his head slightly at the two men, already in his parade rest.

"So, how can we help you today?" Wheeler asked us getting right down to business.

"Well. You can start by telling us who may have wanted to blow you up in 2008," Sherlock told them, smirking slightly when Vanowen and Wheeler gave him puzzled looks.

"I think we should move this discussion to my office," Vanowen suggested, gesturing for us to follow him. We followed back into a very posh office, though Mycroft's was far more impressive. Wheeler offered me a seat which I took, but Sherlock and John refused their own offered chairs, preferring to stand on either side of my chair. Each of them put a hand on the back of my chair and I raised an eyebrow at the protective gesture. Men, it was a subconscious response. Sherlock and John subconsciously felt slightly intimidated or in competition with the other two men therefore displaying protectiveness towards me, stating their claim to me first. It was rather sweet. "I'm stunned. I… I saw the story on the news this morning. I knew that was our old office space, but… I never would've guessed that that bomb was meant for us," Vanowen told us as soon as he was comfortably seated behind his desk. Sherlock's mouth twitched slightly as he considered this news. It was mildly suspicious.

"So you honestly think it was just sitting there this whole time?" Wheeler asked us questioningly. I was about to answer him, but John got to it first.

"The police think it was tucked into an air vent," John explained to them as I sighed, grateful that Sherlock and John were taking over the conversation as I tried not to concentrate on the pain in my hand.

"If that part of the building's climate control system had never needed repair, and judging by this morning's events it didn't, it could have gone undiscovered indefinitely," Sherlock informed them indifferently

"Okay, but why this morning? Why'd it go off after all this time?" Vanowen asked us with a shake of his head. Sherlock looked down at me, his eyes flickering to mine before he jerked his head slightly in the direction of Vanowen, silently asking for me to give the explanation. My eyes widened slightly, surprised by his request. I would have assumed that he would have just taken over without me. He had been investigating this case more than I was already, something he must have realized.

"Um, well, the bomb was detonated by a pager. In 2008, the company that made that pager had no signal towers within forty-two blocks of your old offices. In the beginning of this year, they erected a new tower a mere three blocks away," I explained as I took out my mobile, opening the app I had gotten off Mycroft and showing it to Wheeler with all of the tower locations indicated on in.

"So the bomb didn't detonate in 2008 because the call couldn't go through," Vanowen stated thoughtfully as he rubbed along his jaw. Hint of stubble. He was running late for work that morning by the look of things. Single, married to his work. He would have to be having started his own company.

"The question is, who built the device, and what may they have had against your company?" Sherlock asked them, continuing with his interrogation of the two men.

"I'm sure that we've made our fair share of enemies along the way, but, um… someone who would build a bomb?" Wheeler asked as he looked to Vanowen for an answer. Oh come on, any company had enemies to be sure, but even they should know which ones would be the most likely to build a bomb and possibly want to take out their company.

"The ELM," Vanowen answered after a beat. Wheeler looked at him and the two exchanged a glance before Vanowen turned back to the three of us. "The Earth Liberty Militia. We got some threatening letters from them in 2008."

"They're an eco-terrorist group, right? They've bombed a few other companies over the years," John said thoughtfully as he furrowed his brow at this new information. An eco-terrorist group? That seemed a little odd.

"What would an eco-terrorist group have against a PR firm?" I asked Vanowen, voicing my confusion. It made no since for eco-terrorist to be interested in a PR firm, unless we were missing something here. I shared a look with Sherlock which relayed that we were thinking the same thing. Something was going on here.

"Our… clients. We work with some of the major energy conglomerates. Occasionally we have to help them smooth over their image after mishaps," Vanowen told us haltingly. John snorted loudly at that and all eyes snapped to the army doctor who looked disbelieving.

"Two hundred million gallons of oil spilling into the Gulf, for example?" John asked them bitingly, referring to the oil spill that had just happened two months ago in America. I remembered reading about it. It didn't really affect us here, but it affected a few companies who worked internationally.

"The ELM sent us seven letters in 2008. I think we have copies of them in our records room. You wanna take a look?" Wheeler asked us, throwing John a dirty look but otherwise ignoring his question.

"We would," Sherlock told him as we all stood. John, Sherlock, and Wheeler all headed off to the exit but I paused to speak with Vanowen for a second.

"Effluvium, fussbudget, Cairo. Nine across, fourteen down, thirty-two down," I told Vanowen as I nodded to his computer screen where a crossword was displayed on his monitor. "I have a sort of thing for puzzles," I told him with a joking smile before I headed off after John and Sherlock.

We waited around for Wheeler who returned with copies of the letters for us before we headed off back to Baker Street. As soon as we got in, I headed to my room and changed into more comfortable clothing, coming back in the living room to find a mug of fresh tea waiting for me on the coffee table. I took up residence on the couch since Sherlock was sitting on his feet in his chair. He seemed to be staking claim to his territory since he hardly sat in his chair these days. I rolled my eyes, it wasn't like I was stealing his chair forever. I sipped at my tea before leaving it off on the coffee table as I curled up under a patchwork quilt that Mrs. Hudson must have left over the back of the couch. I got comfortable, fluffing on of the couch pillows up under my head as I laid back, watching Sherlock as he started to go through the letters. Sherlock got up at one point, making a comment about putting me to use as he gave me over a few of the letters to read through. I snorted at him and just read them from my position on the couch as John settled in with his laptop in his chair. I wasn't sure if I wanted food or not, or if that was just a social construct because it was past noon which was when people normally ate. I decided I could wait for a bit longer.

A bit longer turned into a few hours later. John had long since fallen asleep in his chair as Sherlock and I read through the letters, dissecting every inch of them as we tried to figure out who might be behind the ELM. Thankfully, linguistic was sort of my speciality. Mycroft often took advantage of that fact when a classified document fell into his possession. He trusted me more than anyone else since he knew me and could therefore threaten me more efficiently. I was also good at cryptograms and therefore word puzzles. John woke up just as Sherlock and I were nearly finished reading through all of the letters and had quietly gotten up and gone into the kitchen. I could hear him ordering takeaway for dinner before the sound of the kettle being put on the stove reached my ears. "'You cannot stop this. You can only submit,'" I read, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around me as I pulled my feet up to my chest staring down at the papers. "'Submit, or be destroyed,'" I continued as John walked back into the room carrying three mugs of tea. "Thank you John," I told the shorter man with a smile which he returned before leaving Sherlock's mug next to him on the desk. "That's something the ELM would say. Here…," I said as I got up and shuffled over to Sherlock's chair, tea mug in hand and blanket trailing behind me. John watched me with an amused expression as I settled onto the arm of his chair, showing him the letter. His eye ran down the page as he quickly read it over. "From a forensic-linguistic standpoint, these threats are quite fascinating. For example, I see clues here that would suggest that the ELM was not an organization, per se, but one man, posing as an organization," I showed John, putting down my mug of tea before I shuffled through the letters I had in my hand.

"This phrase, "on your beam ends," it appears in five of the seven threats," Sherlock cut in, looking over at me from the desk, the first time he had moved in over two hours. I frowned at that, cocking my head to the side. I had heard that before.

"I'm certain I've heard the phrase before, I just…," I said as I made a struggling motion with my hands to elaborate what I was thinking. "… can't recall where."

"'On your beam ends?'" John asked me as I got up, draping the blanket over Sherlock's chair as I ran my good hand through my hair, trying to remember where I had heard that phrase. I looked over at John who looked confused and nodded at him.

"Mmm," I hummed in agreement. "It's a nautical idiom which was first documented in Captain Frederick Marryat's 1830 novel _The King's Own_. It signified a situation of great peril," I explained to John before I looked over to Sherlock, crossing over to the desk and putting a hand on his shoulder as I leaned over him to look down at the letter he was currently reading. "It's strange for such an aberrant phrase to appear so repeatedly," I commented as I straightened up, not aware of how Sherlock turned to look at me now that I had taken my hand off of his shoulder.

I paced the floor as both men watched me with interest. Where had I heard that phrase? It wasn't something I had read, so it had to be something I had heard. Not yesterday so I had to have heard it sometime today. Not at Vanowen SC and not in the cab. Wasn't at the crime scene earlier, so it had to be before that. I had been doing the experiment with Sherlock before that and then John had come in when I was listening to the TVs. That was where I had heard it! Ah process of elimination always worked wonders. Now, what context had I actually heard it in?

"'On your beam ends.' I've got it," I told the boys as I abruptly stopped pacing and turned around to look at the boys who both looked surprised by my exclamation. "I know where I was when I heard it," I explained to the boys as I turned to face the television screens which we still hadn't cleared away from that morning. I pointed to the screen on the far right, staring at it. "That one. That's where I saw it, this morning," I told them as I waved my finger around as I tried to remember. "But what was the context?" I asked, more to myself than to them. I glanced at the other televisions before I closed my eyes, moving my hands around as I pointed to the screens in turn. "Yellow cartoon sponge man, sports news, mouthwash advert… Arctic Blue," I rattled off before John interrupted my train of thought.

"Um, Lexi, what are you doing?" John asked me slightly hesitantly and I snapped my eyes open, looking over to him. He was watching me carefully. At the same time, Sherlock had gotten up from his desk and had come to stand beside me.

"It called the method of loci. It's a mnemonic device which relies on memorized special relationships to establish, catalogue, and recollect memorial content," I explained to John. Seeing his blank expression I sighed heavily before continuing. "If I remember what was on these six screens, I'll remember what was on the seventh," I told John before I closed my eyes again, pointing to the screens in succession, getting back to the point I was at before I was interrupted. "Fat lady, new cookbook, insufferable," I said pointing to one of the screens before pointing to another. "Erectile dysfunction," I recalled pointing to another screen with a slight grimace. "Um, nature program…penguins," I said with a slight grin before pointing to the last screen accusingly. "Which leaves you, you little bugger," I told it, ignoring the looks John was giving me as I screwed up my face in concentration. "Talk show!" I recalled with a triumphant cheer. "The topic was… international whaling laws," I told the boys as I turned and darted past Sherlock, going to his laptop which was open on the desk. "Two guests got into an argument, the episode was old, a few weeks old at least," I continued as Sherlock and John came to stand behind me as I keyed in a search of international whaling laws, clicking on the top result and pulling up the video clip.

"You're not seriously suggesting that cleaning out the Pacific Ocean is a good idea," The man, an Edgar Knowles, asked the other man on the show as we watched the video clip.

"What do you suggest we tell the Japanese worker whose livelihood depends upon this trade?" The other expert Joseph Dyna argue back indignantly.

"Just… you don't get it. One day fifty years from now when you're on your beam ends…," Knowles said and I looked back at John and Sherlock smiling smugly at them. Oh yeah, I was good. "…you'll wish you'd done more when you could have," Knowles finished before I hit the space bar to pause the video.

"It's the same bombast I read in the ELM letters. It's the same hyperbole," Sherlock commented as he looked down at me. "Good work," He told me offhandedly as he collected his phone up off of the desk and moved to the middle of the living room.

"Same weird phrase. You really think it's him?" John asked as and I shrugged at him. I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but it was a good chance that it was him. He spoke the same way as the writer of the letters did and he used the same weird phrase. I didn't think many people would be using that phrase, it was too random to be a coincidence and you never ignored a coincidence unless you were busy at which time you always ignored the coincidence.

"I know a way to find out," Sherlock told John as he fired off a quick text to Lestrade. Lestrade replied shortly after the Chinese takeaway arrived. They had contacted Knowles and he was supposed to come into the Yard in the morning to talk with Lestrade. The case was at a standstill until then which meant we had the rest of the night off.

As I munched on my Lo Mein noodles, I decided that this night was not going to be boring. In the middle of eating I got up and went into my room, looking through my closet before I finally found what I was looking for. I brought my Scrabble game back into the living room, setting the box out on the coffee table as John and Sherlock looked up at me questioningly. I ignored them as I sat down on the floor, my takeaway container in one hand as I used my other hand to pull out the game board and the bag of tiles. I set out three letter holders before looking up at the boys expectantly. I wasn't going to allow them to get out of this. I was officially making today Scrabble day. Sherlock and I stared at each other before I nodded down at the table and looked back up at him. He wordlessly got up and brought a chair from the desk over, sitting on the side of the coffee table. I then turned my gaze to John who still wasn't getting it. When he finally did, he shook his head at me.

"No," John told me firmly and I frowned at his answer, genuinely upset that he didn't want to play with me. "I'm not gonna play with you just so you can humiliate me while I try and contrive…," John continued before I cut him off.

"John, please, I really want you to play with us. No humiliation I promise," I assured him, making sure to put emphasis on the word please. I was not above using my feminine charms to win people over. "It might take my mind off of the cramps," I added as an afterthought, looking towards John expectantly. He took a deep breath, sighing heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose before he heaved himself out of his chair, likewise bringing a chair over and sitting across from me at the coffee table. I cheered in triumph as I got John to join us.

The game quickly got underway and I soon discovered that John and Sherlock were two of the most competitive Scrabble players I had ever met. I wasn't sure if it was worse than the time Anthea and I had gotten Mycroft to play Monopoly with us or not. The game started off reasonably fine, everyone on their best behaviours, until Sherlock placed a very high point word on the board. After that, the real arguments started. The first one occurred over nothing, just John and Sherlock making quips back and forth to each other to try and throw each other off their game when their turn came. It was at this point that I got up, our Chinese food completely forgotten at this point, and went into the kitchen, finding a tumbler in one of the cupboards and reaching up over the fridge to grab my whisky. I brought both of them back to the living room, pouring myself a drink as the two men fought over the game. That was only the beginning of it though. As the game continued, the arguments only got worse and I kept taking more and more shorts of whiskey, turning Scrabble with John and Sherlock into a bit of a drinking game. Every time they started arguing again, it was time for another shot.

"That isn't a word!" John shouted at Sherlock, pointing at the consulting detective. I giggled, by no means of the definition sober. Sherlock pulled a face, getting huffy all over again as John continued. "It's a proper noun, those aren't allowed."

"Well why not?" Sherlock shot back as he crossed his arms. Being the wonderful friend that I am, instead of ending their argument, I pulled out my phone and started recording them. I was so sending this to Lestrade and Mycroft, of course my drunken giggles made a perfect sound track for the entire video.

"Because…because they just aren't" John spluttered before the game continued on. Within five minutes another argument arose. "You're cheating!" John accused Sherlock, pointing at the detective who had just placed the word colour on the board spelt color, the American way.

"No, color is still a word even if it is the American spelling," Sherlock interjected defensively.

"No, that isn't allowed," John argued with him before he turned to look at me. Aw crap, leave me out of this. "Tell him Lexi," John demanded me gesturing to Sherlock who immediately turned and looked at me.

"Yes, do tell me," Sherlock snapped, sitting back in his chair, sulking because he was told he could use the word he wanted to. There was no way in hell I was touching this with a ten foot pole. No good could come out of this because I would have to end up choosing sides. John was technically right if you were following the general rules of Scrabble so I would have to agree with him, but then again John didn't want to be humiliated so anything could go in that case. Either way you looked at it, I was going to end up having the other person pissed at me for not agreeing with them.

"Nuh-uh. I'm not touching that. I am officially Switzerland," I told both boys, slurring slightly, giving the both of them pointed looks as they both looked at me indignantly. Sherlock and John spluttered as they tried to comprehend my answer. If I hadn't known that neither of them had been drinking, I would say they were the drunk ones with the way they were acting.

"You have to!" Sherlock told me tetchily, crossing his arms and looking at me like a petulant child. I couldn't help giggling which only caused his expression to become even more indignant.

"No, I don't. I am not obligated to choose a side," I told them with a nod as I poured myself another shot. John and Sherlock blinked back at me John spluttering as he watched me, neither of them realizing that I was drinking, bless them.

"You do, he's right. You have to choose a side," John told me agreeing with Sherlock. Oh so now they found something to agree on, but only because it would mean that I would tell them who was right. I shook my head at both boys in amusement.

"No I don't. If I choose a side the other person will be mad at me. Therefore, it is permissible for me to play the Switzerland card and stay out of it which is what I am doing sir," I told John with a nod of finality and a drunken snort. Both men stared at each other and then back at me before the argument started all over again until they had finally come to an impasse and the game continued.

"This isn't fair!" Sherlock yelled, sitting back in his chair as he glared at the both of us, throwing his arms in the air in the process before he crossed them in front of him. "All I have is vowels," Sherlock complained after the third time he had to skip his turn because every time he exchanged his tiles, he kept only getting vowels back.

"It's just bad luck," John told him while he grinned smugly, putting a high point word on the board. This lead to another argument which involved Sherlock and John chasing each other around the flat, darting around and jumping over the furniture. It started getting out of hand when Sherlock was murderously chasing John over the back of the couch right behind my head for a comment he had made. At this point, I got up, waiting for them to pass me before I walked back to my room and got my single stick which I had recovered from John. I returned to the living room just as Sherlock caught up with John, putting the sword between the two men getting their attention.

"Sherlock Holmes! John Watson!" I said using their full names as I pointed the sword at them threateningly. "So help me if you two don't go sit I will use this," I said as I swung the sword around slightly. They eyed it before both me seemed to remember both my PMS and the fact that the reason I was hold the sword in my right hand rather than my left was because I had punched a murderer in the face. This was no empty threat. Both men returned to their seats, shooting me petulant looks as they went, and I sat down on the couch this time, the sword balanced across the tops of my knees. One stern look at the both of them had them muttering under their breath irritably as I watched them play.

It was just past three in the morning when the game finally ended due to Mrs. Hudson coming up to the flat to yell at John and Sherlock for carrying on into all hours of the night. When she finally noticed me, I tipped me glass to her before taking my last shot, finally finishing of the last of the bottle of whiskey which had been just under half full when I started. It wasn't nearly as strong as the stuff I used to drink in Ireland, but I felt comfortably relaxed and stopped caring about the actually game which had somehow dissolved into John and Sherlock just arguing nonstop for the last two hours. When the points were finally tallied however after Mrs. Hudson had finally left to go back down stairs, it was found that I had actually won the game. Sherlock and John had complained loudly over that fact, but I ended that argument as I stood up, leaving my glass and the bottle on the floor as I pointed my single stick at them.

"Oi, I'll have none of that. Now shake hands and then I want the both of you to get to bed," I told them, my Irish accent becoming very thick as my words slurred slightly. They gave me questioning looks before looking at each other and glaring. "Now!" I ordered them and they both grumbled before complying with my request. "Now, that wasn't so hard was it now?" I asked them with a grin as they shot murderous looks my way. "Since that is sorted, get yer arses to bed," I told them, nudging them on with my single stick in front of me, making sure that Sherlock headed into his room and John up the stairs. As both men walked they grumbled to each other mostly about me and my interfering. I stared at them, arms crossed and single stick at the ready until they parted ways, Sherlock going onto his room and slamming the door before a few minutes later the sound of John's door closing loudly reached my ears from the bottom of the stairs. "I love you both too!" I shouted cheerfully to the both of them before I retreated into my own room and preceded to fall down onto my bed, pulling my quilt over my head before I fell asleep in my clothes.

I woke up to the bright late morning light filtering through my curtains and onto my face. I groaned loudly, pulling myself up as I blinked at the dust motes swirling around my face. I got out of bed, instantly retracting my feet back up under the quilt as soon as my bare feet hit cold floor. I grumbled as I forced myself out of bed, darting over to my dresser and pulling out a pair of thick wool socks which I had stolen from Sherlock and slipping them onto my feet. I sighed in content and wiggled my toes before shuffling out into the living room, the evidence of last night's Scrabble game still out on the coffee table. Neither Sherlock nor John were awake so I quick went about picking up all the evidence from last night's duel and put my tumbler in the sink, throwing out the whiskey bottle on my way into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter, a huge grin erupting over my face as I recalled the night before. I made my way back into the living room, finding my phone which had somehow made its way between the couch cushions. I had no more than three texts. Apparently, I had sent them the video of the night before.

**Received at 1:33AM**

**From: Emperor of Cake**

**What have you done.-MH**

I grinned at that text before moving on to the next one which happened to be from Lestrade and had come through early that morning.

**Received at 7:28 AM**

**From: Lestrade**

**Is this what you do at night? Are you drunk? I'm not sure if I actually want to know.**

The last text was from Anthea and made me grin more than Mycroft's had.

**Received 9:42 AM**

**From: Anthea**

**You'll be happy to know that I have a professional video of this with multiple angles thanks so some footage from inside the flat. Don't tell Sherlock, it would make a perfect birthday gift.**

I deleted all three texts before shoving my phone in my back pocket. It was almost eleven and we would have to all head off to the Yard soon. I decided to make the boys breakfast, knowing that all would be forgiven, at least on John's end, if I fed them. I started making John's favourite full English breakfast as I put some toast in the toaster. I had found out that Sherlock rather enjoyed toast with butter and jam on it and if I made it for him, he would eat it. Therefore, I made it for him every morning. As long as I left the toast with him, I would leave and come back to find the plate empty. I set the kettle on just as the sound of creaking reached my ears, signalling that John had woken up. He padded into the kitchen a second later, looked at me, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then just turned around and padded into the living room wordlessly. I let out a peal of laughter as I fixed John a cup of tea before bringing it over to him.

"Morning John," I told him cheerfully and he looked up at me sheepishly as he remembered the events of the night before. "Don't worry I've seen worse," I assured him as he took a sip of his tea before raising an eyebrow at me questioningly. "Mycroft is more competitive than Sherlock if that can be believed," I told the army doctor, patting him on the arm before I flitted back into the kitchen, finishing off John's breakfast and Sherlock's toast.

When I came back into the living room, the consulting detective was sitting poised in his chair and I wondered how he was able to slip past me in the kitchen. He looked up at me as I entered the room and I grinned at him as he stared back at me blankly. I handed John off his plate and flatware before handing Sherlock his toast, stealing the top slice as I set down his tea and moved over to perch on the arm of the couch as I ate the stolen toast and drank my tea. Sherlock gave me a look that a child might if someone stole some of their food. I stuck my tongue out at him in response as I took a big bite of my toast just because I could. My phone thrilled its text alert and I fished it out of my pocket, holding my toast between my teeth so I would have a hand to work with. The text was from Lestrade.

**Received at 11:32**

**From: Lestrade**

**If you three would like to head down to the Yard, Edgar Knowles just got here. **

**Sent at 11:33**

**From: Lexi MacKenna**

**Heading out in a few. ETA twenty minutes. Get the button he pressed on the lift to get up to homicide and send it down for fingerprint analysis of the prints found at the other bomb site. I need that report.**

I shot Lestrade the quick response before hopping off of the arm of the couch, biting down on my toast and quickly polishing it off as I took my tea mug with me, phone in hand. "Lestrade needs us down at the Yard. Edgar Knowles just got there. I told him we'll be down there in twenty. Traffic is good so we have about five minutes each to get ready," I told the boys with a nod before I hurried off to my room, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt which had two chemistry flasks on it, one with a grumpy face on it and the other with an annoyed face and the line "You're overeating." The shirt had been a gag gift for my birthday from Lestrade and I felt it was appropriate after what I decided to name The Great Scrabble Scrimmage. I pulled on my clothes, running a quick hand through my hair before pulling it up into a messy knot. I checked my look in the small mirror I had. Dang, even with messy hair I was still killing it. I entered back into the living room to find John and Sherlock already ready in fresh clothes, waiting by the door for me. Sherlock held up my coat for me and helped me slide it on before he slung my scarf around my neck. I pulled it on properly before following the two men out of the flat. Thankfully we were able to make it outside and to the curb without getting the attention of Mrs. Hudson who would no doubt scold us more later when we got home for waking her up in the middle of the night. Our ride down to the Yard was spent in silence, none of us knowing what to say after the events of last night. When we got to the Yard, we made it up to the homicide division where Lestrade was already waiting for us with a large grin on his face.

"So, how's the head?" Lestrade asked me, still grinning away as he lead us back towards the conference room where we would be giving our interrogation. I fixed him with an unamused look which only made him smile wider.

"It's fine, thank you," I told him sarcastically and rolled his eyes at me before pushing the door open. In fact, it was generally fine. I only had a slight headache. Sherlock strode inside, John following him before Lestrade shook his head and I followed after the boys, ready to reel them in if they started causing trouble.

Sherlock and I took seats across from Knowles, John preferring to stand as Lestrade leaned up against a cabinet near the door. Lestrade explained to Knowles why he had called him in and laid it all out on the table for him about what we were basically accusing him of doing. Knowles had been looking at me funnily since I had sat down, staring at my shirt than back up at me. Sherlock stared in the man in his typical creepy fashion that meant he was deducing every little fact about him such as his relationship with friends, family, others, what he might have had for breakfast that day, what his profession was, basically anything and everything.

"I'm confused, Detective. You're accusing me of being some sort of eco-terrorist?" Knowles asked us playing the defensive card. Good front, but it wasn't going to work with us.

"Our special consultants think your speech pattern is a match for these letters," Lestrade told Knowles as he pushed off of the cabinet and walked forward, taking a seat at the end of the table before he gestured to the letters which were spread out in front of Knowles.

"For the last time, I've never seen these letters before. I don't know anything about the ELM, and I certainly didn't build any bombs!" Knowles yelled at us, repeating what he had been for the last few minutes as Lestrade had tried to slip him up and get him to give something away.

"Lie, lie, and lie," Sherlock said with a little smirk as he folded his hands in the prayer position and looked at Knowles.

"You still haven't said, who the hell are you people?" Knowles asked us angrily as he looked between John, Sherlock, and I.

"I am the woman with the button," I told Knowles as I pulled an evidence bag from the inside of my jacket and waved it in front of Knowles face with a grin on my own. Knowles looked slightly taken aback by this. "This is from the lift down the hall. You pushed it to get to this floor. I had Detective Inspector Lestrade remove it and send it to the Department's Latent Print Unit. It has your fingerprint on it, you see?" I explained to Knowles as I set it down on the table in front of him, still grinning madly. "Which means that it has a great deal in common with a component from a bomb the ELM detonated at a lumber mill in Newbridge in 2005," I told him as Lestrade pulled a paper with two enlarged fingerprints on it from the file and showed them to Knowles. "Button, bomb. Button, bomb," I showed Knowles as I pointed between the fingerprints which were identical. "The similarities are quite striking, wouldn't you agree?" I asked him and he shook his head as his only response. "I'm not going to beat around the bush because I like to get right to the point. You built the ELM bombs, Mr. Knowles. And you wrote those letters. It's too bad you didn't go back for the one you left at Vanowen SC when you realized it was defective. Maybe you wouldn't be facing two murder charges today. Surly you should have realized that someone like Sherlock and I would come around and put all the pieces of the puzzle together," I told him, seeing Sherlock's lips quirk up slightly into a smirk as I pointed this fact out to Knowles.

Knowles looked at the table, considering for a long moment. "I bombed that lumber mill," Knowles agreed and I nodded, already knowing this information. He could deny it all he wanted to, Lestrade was already set to arrest him, knowing we were right. "And I wrote these letters to Vanowen SC. But you know what I didn't do?" He told us as he gestured to the letters. "Follow up on them," He finished. Lestrade sighed disbelievingly and leaned forward, resting his head in his hand. "In 2008 I'd successfully detonated nitrate-based bombs at five different companies. I was established, and… I was taken very seriously. Vanowen SC was one of several dozen businesses I threatened but never bombed." Unfortunately, he was telling the truth and I could tell that Sherlock saw the same thing I did as well. He had threatened him, but he wasn't the one that planted the bomb at what used to be Vanowen SC. We were back at square one in terms of finding the bomber, but we had found one eco terrorist so that was at least something.

"Why am I not surprised that you'd take credit for every bombing except the one that killed two people?' Lestrade scoffed before he stood. "Well, whether you claimed it or not, you are still under arrest," Lestrade told Knowles before turning to Sherlock and me. "We'll get you the analysis of the bomb later today," Lestrade told us after he had gotten Knowles into handcuffs.

"Will do," I told Lestrade with a nod as the three of us left before him. "How do you want to continue with this?" I asked Sherlock as we left the Yard to hail a cab back to Baker Street, to continue with our investigation now that we had to start back from the drawing board.

"How do you feel about experimenting?" Sherlock asked me as we got into the back of a cab. I grinned at him as John groaned loudly and pinched the bridge pf his nose as we head off through London back to the flat.

"I'll get the fire extinguisher!" I told Sherlock cheerfully, giggling as his deep baritone chuckle mixed with my laughter. The cabbie looked back at us, looking slightly scare which only made me laugh harder. Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys, solving crimes, fighting over Scrabble, and making a name for ourselves amongst the criminal class. It was all in the days work of a consulting detective.


	26. They're Coming Out Of The Walls

**This chapter is dedicated to the fantastic Lady A for more than obvious reasons. I'm glad you like this story so much. I believe it is utter rubbish, yet I continue on with it. Xoxo Mels**

**Note: This story is now being uploaded to Archive of Our Own as well and my author name remains the same. I'm slowly moving over to there but will continue to post on here as always.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four- They're Coming Out Of The Walls<strong>

"**There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman." ― Arthur Conan Doyle, A Case of Identity**

We arrived back at Baker Street after we stopped off at a few stores to get the required chemicals needed to conduct our experiments. I had texted Mycroft a request for a freezer chest to be brought to Baker Street for our use. Sherlock and I needed to experiment on what the bomb was actually composed of so that we could distinguish where to go from here. Knowles might very well be our bomber or he might not be. Best way to figure that out was figuring out what the bomb was composed of. I had a feeling Mrs. Hudson wouldn't just want us setting them off in the flat, owing for the need of the freezer. Thankfully Mycroft was busy so Anthea got the text rather than him. She didn't ask me any questions, only told me it would be sent over. That was the difference between Anthea and Mycroft. Mycroft asked me questions and Anthea knew it was nine times out of ten better not to ask. By the time the cab had brought us back to Baker Street and we got our bags of supplies up to the flat, the freezer was already sitting in the middle of the living room.

"Um, when did that get here?" John asked us as he looked around the flat in confusion. I grinned at him as I brought everything into the kitchen, Sherlock hurrying to clear some space off on the kitchen table so we could experiment. He moved his half-finished experiments to any remaining available space of which there was little. We started to unload everything as John followed us into the kitchen.

"I had Mycroft bring it over. Well technically Anthea," I told John as Sherlock got out some beakers and graduated cylinders for us. I took out a few of the tennis balls from the bag and grabbed a knife, John jumping when I promptly stabbed the first tennis ball.

"What did those balls ever do to you?" John asked me cautiously, noting the fact that I was cutting through the ball as Sherlock started measuring chemicals into the graduated cylinder. We both looked up at John and rolled our eyes.

"They're dying for a good cause, John," I assured him as I stabbed the second one. I caught the army doctor's wince and John shook his head exasperatedly as I looked back at Sherlock who had his head bent as he precisely measured the components of the first bomb. It was nice to watch him work. I didn't know if anyone else noticed it but he just got this expression on his face as if he was completely in his element.

"Of course they are," John said, noticing that Sherlock and I would probably be busy for a while. "I'll leave you to whatever this is," John said waving his hands in gesture of the tennis balls and the work Sherlock was doing. "I'm going out," John told us as he turned around and left through the kitchen door.

"I want you back by ten mister!" I called after him, hearing him just start down the stairs. I giggled as I heard him chuckling.

"Yes mum," John called back good naturedly and I nodded in satisfaction before joining Sherlock again. The man in question was watching me close. I fixed him with a pointed look and he went back to his work. For a few hours, all we did was mix chemicals and in my case, murder tennis balls. Once the preparations were done, we got to the fun part of actually experimenting with our creations. It was eight at night and John still wasn't back yet. Sherlock and I started lighting the bombs, dropping them in the freezer, and letting them explode before opening the freezer to smell the fumes set off. We were trying to find the one that smelt like what was at the crime scene.

Sherlock lit another one and sent it into the freezer to meet its demise as I sat on the arm of Sherlock's chair causally drinking tea. It was at this point that we heard footsteps heading up the stairs. Sherlock and I briefly looked at the door as Mrs. Hudson walked through the door. "It sounds like bombs are going off up here. Is everything alright?" Mrs. Hudson asked us just as the freezer moved and shook as the bomb went off with a loud bang. Mrs. Hudson shrieked in surprise causing Sherlock to sigh in exasperation.

"Everything is perfectly alright Mrs. Hudson. Just experimenting," I explained to her as Sherlock opened the freezer, releasing the fumes. He growled, not finding what we were looking for again. "Chill," I told Sherlock who fixed me with a glare before lighting another one and throwing it into the freezer. This one had a shorter fuse and went off with in seconds causing Mrs. Hudson to let out a small squeak again.

"Oh, be careful," Mrs. Hudson tittered as more footsteps sounded on the stairs. In another second, John burst through the door of the living room looking like he was ready for a fight.

"What's going on?" John asked us as another bomb went off in the freezer. "Bloody hell," John shouted, walking forward and looking at our basket of tennis ball bombs and Sherlock as he moved to the freezer.

"Oh good, you're back. How's Mike?" I asked John with a grin as Sherlock ignored us and continued working. I hopped down off of the arm of John's chair, hugging Mrs. Hudson before sending her downstairs again. John watched me with an exasperated expression.

"How did you know I went out with Mike?" John asked me pointedly as he went and sat heavily in his chair as I moved back to Sherlock's. Sherlock looked over at John, his eyes scanning his figure, taking in all the information I had upon looking at John when he walked in.

"You clothes smell of smoke, strongly since I could smell it from over here, but you aren't the one who has been smoking which suggest you were in a pub. Now, your clothes smell slightly of alcohol as well, it's where you spilled a little on yourself, so definitely a pub. Now, you wouldn't drink alone which suggests you would have contacted a friend. You don't have many friends here or you would have gone to them when you first needed lodgings. The only person you could have therefore contacted is Mike. A simple enough deduction," Sherlock told him and John shook his head at us in exasperation.

"Brilliant. Stills scary that you can know that," John told us, eliciting a disgruntled sound from Sherlock, who was clearly annoyed with this comment.

"We didn't know, we saw," Sherlock told John as he set off another of our bombs. I smiled fondly at the consulting detective who looked like his feathers were ruffled. I got up and went into the kitchen, cleaning up a space for me to work at. I put my mug of tea down before turning to the fridge and pulling out everything that I would need to make something for dinner. Late was better than never. I listened to the boys talking in the other room, looking through as John picked up one of the tennis balls.

"Ah!" Sherlock protested, waving his hand for John to put it down. John set it down, holding his hand up in surrender as Sherlock picked up another of the balls from the basket. "Did you know that when a bomb explodes, the component that houses the fuel is often atomized? Now this can make it difficult, if not downright impossible, to identify the device's chemical composition. Scotland Yard's bomb squad is currently struggling with this very conundrum, so we thought we would help since they are all too incompetent and we have a better chance of finding it first," Sherlock told John as I started cutting up the vegetables for my cottage pie.

"With tennis balls?" John asked us sounding sceptical as I turned to the stove and started fixing the meat filling, filling the flat with the brilliant smell of food. John looked back towards the kitchen, as the smell wafted into the living room. "Are you cooking?" He asked me, brightening up.

"Yes, just give me a bit," I told him as I went back to cooking. I gestured for Sherlock to explain what we were doing to John with my spoon. He was looking at me as if I had two heads, staring at the food I was cooking around the lab equipment. I pointed at him with my spoon, waving it at him and gesturing for him to just go back to what he was doing and not to question my actions. I wanted food. He turned back to John, holding up one of the tennis balls to the army doctor.

"We're attempting to replicate the odour and burn pattern of the office bombing using a few of our own concoctions and these balls make perfect delivery mechanisms," Sherlock explained as he raised the lighter and lit the bomb, throwing it into the freezer and slamming the lid shut just before the bomb exploded, rocking the lid of the freezer open a bit. Sherlock opened the lid, sniffing several times. He gestured for me to come over and I left the food cooking on the stove, wiping my hands on a tea towel before walking over and taking a whiff of the odour, wrinkling my nose at the smell. I looked over at John who still was looking at us confused.

"When Edgar Knowles was arrested this afternoon, he confessed to setting off five nitrate-based bombs at various businesses," I explained to John walking over to him and held up a hand to emphasize five as I perched on the arm of his chair.

"No self-respecting eco-warrior would use toxic man-made chemicals in his bombs," Sherlock continued for me with a quirky expression, raising his hands up and moving them around. He leaned down and picked up another bomb, holding it up. "He would use natural ingredients," Sherlock told John as he held the ball towards John's face for him to smell. He leaned back at the scent of it and I promptly got up with an "I'm out of here!" and headed back into the kitchen to finish putting together my cottage pie.

"It smells like fertilizer," John commented, still grimacing as I piled everything into a casserole dish and popped it into the oven. I set the timer before making my way back into the living room to join the boys again.

"With good reason. Beyond its horticultural employments, fertilizer can be distilled down and mixed into a rather potent nitrate accelerant. This ball is filled with the stuff. If Knowles did try to blow up Vanowen SC, he would have used nitrates. And if he had used nitrates, the bomb would have filled the air with an odour as pungent as it is distinctive. Same odour that you're smelling right now," Sherlock told John as he held it close to John again, John making a face and irritatedly pushing his hand away.

"The thing is, we didn't smell any fertilizer when we were there. We smelled… something else," I told John as I took the tennis ball from him and lit it, sending it into the freezer and shutting the lid, letting it blow up before opening the lid to release the fumes, filling the room with the odour. "It was foreign to us in the moment, but we've managed to recreate it with the help of our little round friends here," I told John with a grin as he looked at the both of us like we were mental for setting off bombs in our flat purposefully.

"We're now certain that the bomb was made using potassium chlorate. It's an accelerant made of gasoline, bleach, and petroleum jelly," Sherlock explained to John as he went over to the couch and fell down heavily on it before he reached under it for his stash of nicotine patches. He rolled up his sleeve, slapping two patches on before I stopped him on his way to putting on the third.

"Nope, two is enough Lock," I scolded him, walking over to him and snatching the box away. "Don't give me that look," I told him as he stared at me murderously. I threw the box at John for him to hide and he managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. I moved back into the kitchen, checking on my food. All the cheese was melted so I turned off the timer and took it out of the oven. I found three plates and started plating up the cottage pie. I brought them through into the living room, handing one off to John before poking Sherlock, who was lying across the couch in his fetal position, with my foot, getting a grunt from him in response. "Sit up," I ordered him and he turned around, fixing his grey, blue eyes on me with a glare. He sat upright and I gave him his plate before sitting next to him. I ignored him, looking towards John who was happy eating.

"Are you saying that Edgar Knowles was telling the truth when he told you that he didn't build the bomb that exploded at Vanowen SC?" John asked us between bites of his food, looking at the both of us in amusement over our interactions. I peeked out of the corner of my eyes and saw that Sherlock was pushing his own share around the plate before he picked up a little with his fork and nibbled on it experimentally. I watched him go down for another forkful before smirking, looking back at John.

"We are," I told him as I took a bite of my cottage pie, smiling as I chewed it. It had been a rather productive day which included getting Sherlock to actually eat.

"Well if he didn't build it, then who did?" John asked me and I shrugged with a grin as I looked towards the consulting detective sitting next to me. Sherlock was just watching me closely and I grinned at him cheekily before turning back to John.

"Haven't the foggiest," I told him. We sat in silence for a while before John got up with his empty plate. He made his way into the kitchen after picking up Sherlock's and my plates from the coffee table. I heard him doing the washing up before the fridge door opened and then shut.

"Alright, every things cleared up. I'm off to bed. Thanks for dinner Lexi," John told me before he went to head off towards his room. I got up, not letting him go far before I tackled the army doctor with a hug that threw him for a second before he returned it. I just had a feeling he needed the hug, everyone needed a hug at one time or another.

"Night John," I told the man, pressing a kiss to his cheek before releasing him. He flushed slightly in embarrassment before grinning at me hesitantly. I patted his arm before he left for bed and then I looked back at the consulting detective who was watching my interaction with John.

"I'm heading to bed too," I told him and he nodded slightly as I made my way down the hall towards my room. I wasn't expecting any pleasantries. Sherlock wasn't really like that and that was okay. After living with both men for over two weeks, I could honestly now say that I didn't regret my decision. Life was never boring with Sherlock and John around and I found myself fitting in with both men in a way that I never imagined. People didn't generally like me, but John and Sherlock seemed to accept my odd quirks.

"Good night Lexi," I heard called from the living room just as I slipped into my bed room. I paused smiling in the door way.

"Night Lock," I called back softly, knowing he would hear me. I walked further into my room, shutting my door behind me before changing into my nightclothes and crawling into bed. Before long, the sounds of Sherlock playing the violin filled the flat. I noticed that every night, just after I went to bed, was when Sherlock started playing. I fell asleep to the soft sounds of his playing, the nightmares held at bay for another night. I never had a nightmare on the nights that Sherlock played.

I woke up to the sounds of a bow being pulled across the strings in a very high whining pitch. I cringed and brought my pillow over my head, groaning loudly as I heard John coming down the stairs, yelling to Sherlock to stop whatever it was he was doing. It sounded like he was murdering a cat. I got up, finding my house coat and pulling it around me before I walked out into the living room. I walked in, finding John standing in front of Sherlock, threatening to break his violin. It was time to play mother once again.

"No, you won't" I told John, pointing at him as both men turned to face me. "And you," I said rounding on Sherlock and plucking his violin and bow from his hands. "Give me that," I told him before walking over and setting both of them down on his desk. "Now, stop acting like children," I scolded the both of them as I walked over to the stairs. "I'm going to see Mrs. Hudson, try not to start World War Three in the middle of the flat," I told them before heading down the stairs. I knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door and a few minutes later, the older woman opened it and ushered me inside.

"He's making a right racket up there," Mrs. Hudson commented as she brought me over to the couch and left to go and get me a cup of tea. "Have they been behaving?" Mrs. Hudson asked me as I heard her start making a lot more than tea. God I loved Mrs. Hudson.

"I've been keeping them in line. They aren't exactly always behaving, but I think I keep them in line most times," I told her as she came back in to bring me my tea. I got up to try and help her in the kitchen, but she forced me to sit as she went back to the kitchen.

"Well, I think you're doing a fine job dear. Sherlock can be a bit difficult to deal with, but as long as you give him a chance, he'll never let you down when it counts," Mrs. Hudson told me as I heard he getting plates and the smell of breakfast reached my nose.

"Oh, I know. I've known Sherlock's brother for four years. Neither of them are easy to deal with, but I like them," I told Mrs. Hudson as she walked back into the room carrying a plate of pancakes for me. I grinned and took them from her. "Thank you," I told the older woman as she went back to the kitchen before coming back out with a tray with two plates on it.

"I'm just going to take this up to the boys. You need to eat if you're working on cases. It isn't good for you three to be running around in the cold with nothing in your stomachs," Mrs. Hudson worried over me before she left to bring the tray up to the boys I heard John thank Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock's sarcastic remark about people constantly trying to feed him. I ate with a grin on my face as Mrs. Hudson came back down the stairs and sat across from me. She started going on about her husband and her friends and I listened to her politely, offering up comments every so often.

"You're such a nice girl dear. You're good for them, even if they don't see it. Sherlock's been a right bit better since you moved in and John seems a lot happier. It's nice to hear laughter coming from up there for once. Of course you three argue like cats and dogs," Mrs. Hudson said, fixing me with a pointed look and I smiled at her sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. I got them to play Scrabble with me, it didn't go so well," I told her before the both of us jumped as we suddenly heard Sherlock yelling for me.

"Lexi!"

"I should go see what he needs before he has an aneurism," I told Mrs. Hudson as I got up and she took my empty plate from me. "Thanks for breakfast Mrs. Hudson," I thanked the woman as she walked me over to the door.

"Oh, you're welcome dear," Mrs. Hudson told me, giving me a motherly hug as Sherlock shouted for me again. "Better get up there," Mrs. Hudson said with a small laugh. I nodded my head in agreement before I turned and hurried up the stairs. Sherlock shouted for me for a third time as I made my way up the stairs and I let out a long sigh, rolling my eyes.

"Alright, alright, don't have a bloody conniption," I told Sherlock as I got back into the flat. "What is it now?" I asked him as I found him fully dressed in the living room, pacing the length of it.

"Ah good. Go get dressed. We need to get down to the Yard," Sherlock told me and I stopped shaking my head at him before I complied.

I grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans and my black jumper with little skulls on it before retreating into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and quickly stripped out of my nightclothes, jumping into the shower. I took what could possibly be the quickest shower of my life before I got out and dried off. I got dressed, leaving the bathroom with still damp hair which I pulled up into a high ponytail. I hissed in pain as my hand erupted in stabbing, sharp fire like burning pain. Ever since I had hit it, it had gotten worse than before. I went back into my room, dumping my clothes into the hamper. I pulled on the socks I had stolen from Sherlock before putting my Oxford flats. I went out to the living room where John was now waiting with Sherlock, fully dressed. He fixed me with an odd look as he took in my shirt but Sherlock looked amused. John was dressed, but the clothes he was wearing said date, not Scotland Yard.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked John as Sherlock helped me into my jacket. John shook his head at me in exasperation as he pulled on his own coat. I grinned back at him cheekily, knowing I had gotten him again.

"Not someone you have to concern yourself with," John told me grumpily before the three of us made our way down the stairs and out of the flat. John left us on the curbing and started walking off down Baker Street as Sherlock and I hailed a cab, taking it to the Yard. I had realized that it was better not to argue with Sherlock and just to comply with his requests. We got to the Yard without too many arguments and Sherlock immediately hurried up and started bullying Lestrade into giving him the evidence he wanted to take a look at.

It took me intervening and talking to Lestrade before he finally gave us over the bag of filler paper used to make the bomb. We brought it back to my office where Sherlock proceeded to dump the entire bag off on my desk. We worked for over an hour, slowly piecing together the bits of newspaper that had been packed into the bomb before we finally found something that was of interest. I took a picture of it before walking out into the Yard to find Lestrade. I was told by the delightful Donovan that he wasn't there and therefore I would have to wait. I told her to let him know as soon as he got back that I was looking for him before I returned to Sherlock and we continued to put the paper together. We managed to get at least a third of the page pieced back together from the October paper. An hour or so passed before we finally were interpreted by the return of Lestrade.

"Hey," Lestrade said, knocking on the door as he walked in. Sherlock and I looked up and over to him. "Heard you were looking for me?" Lestrade said as he waited in the door way, watching us questioningly. We explained everything we knew to him, including the fact the Knowles was most certainly not the one to set off the bomb at the office building. "Yesterday you gave us Edgar Knowles on a silver platter. Now you're telling me he did every bomb except for the one from two days ago?" Lestrade asked us as soon as we had finished explaining everything to him.

"As we said before, that bomb was built using potassium chlorate," Sherlock snapped at him in irritation. I patted him on the shoulder, looking towards Lestrade still and missing when Sherlock looked to me with a glare before his expression softened.

"Yeah. And Knowles only used ones with cow manure. I heard you. That's not enough," Lestrade told us, raising an eyebrow in my direction as he looked between Sherlock and me. I ignored him and decided on another tactic.

"There's more than just that though Greg. Sherlock and I came in this morning to re-examine the bomb's components, and we pieced together some of the strips of packing paper that were used," I explained to him as Lestrade fixed me with a sceptical look. I got up off of the arm of the chair Sherlock was occupying and stepped forward. "We managed to form almost a third of a page of the October 13th edition of the Telegraph. This particular clump caught our eye," I told Lestrade as I turned my phone to show Lestrade the picture I had taken earlier. I pointed to it as I spoke and Lestrade leaned in more closely. "We saw almost imperceptible indentations along the upper fringe."

"I don't see anything," Lestrade told me after a beat.

"You wouldn't," Sherlock told him and Lestrade gave him a despairing look.

"Well, most people wouldn't, which is why I traced over it," I told Lestrade trying to ease the conflict. I tapped the screen twice to pull up the next photo, where I had traced over the letters to spell NOVOCANE. "The paper that was used in the bomb was beneath another piece of paper when someone wrote that word. They pressed hard enough to make indentations. Now, we've already checked it against Edgar Knowles's handwriting. It's not a match," I told Lestrade as I sat back down on the arm of Sherlock's chair.

"All due respect, but so what? Maybe he had help with the bomb," Lestrade told us and Sherlock and I both shook our heads at the same time, Sherlock's more in exasperation and mine in disagreement. "Maybe that person wrote some weird note on top of the newspaper."

"As we said previously, we believe that Edgar Knowles worked alone," Sherlock told Lestrade as if he was being stupid. I fixed Sherlock with a pointed look and he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes but getting the message at the same time.

"And as I said previously, I still like him for the last bomb," Lestrade told us as he left my office. Sherlock and I both got up in unison, following after him.

"The threats against Vanowen SC were never made public, which means aside from the police, the firm's employees were the only ones who were aware of them. Request a subpoena of their personnel files so that we can review them," Sherlock told Lestrade, more like ordered him as we followed him through the division back to his office.

Lestrade stopped, fixing Sherlock with a glare. "For what?" He asked him before he started walking again.

"Well, imagine you were a disgruntled employee, hmm? You want to strike out at the company, but you don't want to get caught. So why not take advantage of the ELM threats to plant a device of your own, hmm? You get the blast, they get the blame," Sherlock explained to him and Lestrade stopped to look at us again, just outside of his office door.

"No," Lestrade told us definitively.

"No?" Sherlock asked him, his face scrunching up in annoyance.

"No subpoena. If you really wanna go poking around at Vanowen SC, you're gonna have to take it up with them," Lestrade told us, walking into his office and shutting his door, leaving Sherlock and I standing there.

"Well, it looks like we have need of your feminine charms," Sherlock told me with a smirk as we turned to leave the Yard. I stopped fixing Sherlock with a glare.

"No, I already told you there was no way I was ever doing that again," I told Sherlock pointedly, crossing my arms as we faced each other in the middle of the Yard.

"Well, if you want a look at those records, we need someone to get on Vanowens's good side," Sherlock told me and I groaned as we continued walking out of the Yard and started down the stairs. There was no way I wanted to flirt with Vanowen.

"I hate you," I complained to Sherlock as we waited by the curbing for a cab. One slid to a stop beside us and Sherlock grinned at me, opening the door as he leaned in closer to me.

"No you don't," He told me, and I rolled my eyes, smacking him in the shoulder in irritation before I slid into the cab. I looked up at him as he got in next to me, sitting closer than was necessary since it was just the two of us.

"You're right, I don't" I told him with a grin before turning away from him to look out of the window, trying to hide my grin from him.

We got to Vanowen SC and Sherlock managed to get us in. I had to use my charms in order to get a look at the book of personnel files. I felt utterly cheap having to flirt with Vanowen, but we didn't have another choice. We needed to see the files and there was no way that we were going to be able to see them unless I did something about it. What I was more pissed at was the fact that Sherlock left me alone with Vanowen after that as he went to snoop around the rest of the firm. So now, I was stuck with Vanowen leaning against the table next to me as I tried to flip through the book of personnel files. I didn't know what it was with men. I paused, looking at the page I was on, creasing my eyebrows. See, this is why I liked John and Sherlock. Neither of them thought that because they were living with a female flat mate that that meant I wanted to get with one of them. I had told John that dating wasn't my division and that was partially right. I didn't date, mostly because people didn't really like me once they got to know me. Sure, men flirted often. I knew Sherlock was subject to the same flirting. While I didn't see it, others seemed to find me attractive. This led to a lot of unwanted attention but made instance like now easier. It wasn't that I despised men because they found me attractive, it was far from that, but the flirting, like I was just something to be won, some conquest is what I despised. I knew that if these men actually got to know me, they wouldn't like me as much as they thought they did. That was my entire problem with dating. I wanted to find someone who would see me and accept me for who I was without trying to change me.

Sherlock, while claiming he was married to his work, I believed to be of this same regard. Molly was a sweet girl, but she really wouldn't end up liking him all that much if she was actually dating him. Mycroft always said caring wasn't an advantage and I could never understand that completely, but sometimes, I could. Of course, I had noticed the wedding band on his finger, though I never commented on it. He wasn't married, that I knew for sure, at least he wasn't now. There was one thing I had learned, the Holmes boys were some of the most interesting men you would ever meet. Mycroft claimed that I was the most interesting woman he had ever met on several occasions but I called BS on that. I wasn't interesting I was just me. I wasn't sure exactly what he saw in me half of the time, either of them. I loved living with Sherlock and John and solving cases though. This was my life and I loved it for what it was worth. There was a part of me that believed that one day Sherlock would get bored of me and ask me to leave. Once he solved the puzzle of Lexi MacKenna, he would hardly want me sticking around for much longer. John was different though. John and Sherlock were supposed to be. The detective and his doctor.

That made sense, but I didn't. Sherlock really didn't need my help to solve cases. He could surely do it all on his own and had for a long time. I wasn't nearly as good as he was. Yes, I was good in my own regard and Mycroft had taught me a lot, helped me develop my own skills, but I felt like a child compared to Sherlock. Once they realized that I was less that useful… well, that was what I feared. Once someone realized they didn't need me was when they always got rid of me. Just like my father. No… I had to stop basing every relationship I had off of my relationship with my father. Not everyone wanted to get rid of me like he had. I had to remind myself that I had Mycroft and Lestrade and Mary. They hadn't gotten rid of me yet and I had known them the longest. I had to stop doing that to myself. It was time to move on. I wasn't the frightened child I had been. I fought criminals and solved crimes. I was Lexi MacKenna, I am and would always be the optimist. The hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams.

"Doing okay?" Vanowen asked me suddenly, interrupting my own inner musings. My confidence in myself got on shaky ground every so often, when I felt I wasn't good enough for anyone or anything, but one thing I always had to remind myself was that nobody was unimportant. I might not understand my importance, but I was needed for something. I just had to figure out what that was first.

I nodded at Vanowen once before looking back at the files. "I am," I told Vanowen bitingly before seeing his little frown at my attitude. I instantly made my expression brighten into a smile and looked at Vanowen, giving him my full attention. "And thank you again for allowing me to peruse these files," I added with a bat of my eyelashes to cover over my blunder. I wanted to wretch. I was tired of having to flirt with men for cases, but it seemed like this was to be one of my jobs. Of course, it would be funny trying to see Sherlock having to come on to someone for a case every now and again.

"Well, it was an easy decision to make," Vanowen told me, his face morphing into a grin as he looked at me flirtatiously. "If you think there's anyone here who had something against this company, I would like to know," Vanowen told me as he leaned over the chair next to me. I glance up at him with a raised eyebrow before turning back to the papers to try and get the point across that I really wasn't interested. I knew what he was trying to do. "You're a fellow addict, aren't you?" Vanowen asked me suddenly and I lifted my head slightly, my hand freezing on one of the pages. "Crosswords," Vanowen continued and I turned to look up at him slowly in relief. "You couldn't have figured out those clues at my computer the other day if you weren't."

I nodded at him slowly. "I dabble," I told him before smiling to myself at the inside joke. I solved puzzles for a living and had an eidetic memory. Solving crossword puzzles was child's play.

"Well, I wish I could say I just dabbled," Vanowen told me with a laugh as he pulled the chair out from under the table. I glanced up at him stiffly before looking back at the files, trying to pull a Sherlock and portray the cold outside demeanour. "I used to have my habit under control, when the papers only issued one a day," Vanowen said as he reached close to my hand that rested on the table and picked up a folder before dropping it back on the table. He sat up on the table top and rested his feet up on the chair, getting rather closer to me than I would like. "Ever since they put the last fifty years of their archives online, I'm a lost cause. It's a miracle I get any work done at all," Vanowen continued as he "accidently" brushed my hand with his as he went to pick up another file. I took in a deep breath, letting it out as I tried to control my temper.

I looked up at Vanowen turning slightly towards him. "You want sex," I said, stating it rather than asking a question. His intentions were more that clear.

"Is it that obvious," Vanowen asked me grinning devilishly. I raised an eyebrow at him before deciding on one of two options. I could either get up and walk out, letting Mycroft and Lestrade know that I had been sexually harassed by this guy and have them deal with him for me because he was a pig who only seemed to think women were meant for his use or I could take care of him myself. I chose the latter to the former. Let's see just how interested he would be in me when I was finished with him.

"You're interest is undisguised, so much so that even the incompetent detectives at Scotland Yard would be able to figure it out. As to why you would be interested in me, I admit that I am completely confused," I told Vanowen as I pushed my chair back and stood up, facing him as he likewise stood up and looked me over suggestively.

"Well, eh, you are a right little beauty," Vanowen told me and I laughed, a sound that made him grin as he thought he had won me over.

"No, no, I know you find me attractive. No, the point I was trying to make was that I was wondering why you are interested in me when you are married with two, no three children," I told him pointedly with a little self-satisfied smirk when I saw his smile turn into an expression a kin to horror at being caught out.

"How do you know?" Vanowen demanded of me as I looked back at him passively. I had noticed it when I had first met him.

"Your ring finger. You take off your wedding band when you aren't at home, but there is a distinct lighter shade to the skin of your hand where the ring used to be. As for the children, on your desk the other day, you had a card. Recent birthday, three children signed the card. Quite obvious actually," I told Vanowen who stared back at me before his expression turned angry. Ah, exactly, he was the typical person.

"Piss off," Vanowen snapped at me as he stood rigidly in his anger. "So I'm not good enough for you, but that freak you were with is?" Vanowen snapped at me and I laughed at that, actually laughed.

"I don't believe that this has anything to do with Sherlock," I told Vanowen as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, getting angry myself. He had no right to insult Sherlock.

"Was it like then, living with the freak? Do you shag him and your other friend?" Vanowen asked me and I looked at him narrowing my eyes and pulling the expression that Mycroft said could scare any man. It looked like it was doing its job.

"Alright, let's get one thing straight. First of all I don't shag either of them, though they both would be a far better choice than you. Secondly, I wonder what your wife would think if I decided to let her in on the fact that you have not one, but three mistresses. I'll have you know I have a very influential friend in the British Government, actually that is being modest, he is practically the British Government," I told Vanowen with a smirk on my face as I watched him pale. "Odds are, he probably already knows of this little meeting. He loves to keep an eye out for me. I'll tell you another thing to. Sherlock is not a freak. He is the smartest, kindest, and most incredible man I have ever met and I am lucky to even have met him," I told Vanowen just as the door opened and Sherlock himself walked in, hearing the last of what I was telling Vanowen. I would have blushed if I was any other woman, but I wasn't. Besides there was no reason to be embarrassed over something that was the truth.

"Am I interrupting?" Sherlock asked me raising an eyebrow as he looked between the fuming Vanowen and me. I saw his eyes widen slightly in shock as he heard my admission, but he quickly rearranged his features to show no semblance of emotion.

"No," I told Sherlock as I grabbed my coat and scarf off of the back of the chair I was sitting on. I pulled them on as both men watched me. "Not even a little," I told him as I pulled my jacket and scarf on, looking up at Sherlock before brushing past him and striding out of the room.

It wasn't long before Sherlock was catching up with me outside. I hadn't lingered at Vanowen SC and had instead left the firm and started off down the road. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew that I needed to walk. I had texted Mycroft to just leave me because I needed time to think. When Sherlock caught up to me, we walked in silence beside each other. I caught Sherlock attempting to start a conversation before he stopped at himself and frowned as if not knowing how to start. When he finally spoke, he stumbled over his words.

"That, er ... thing that you, er, said; that, um …," He began before clearing his throat awkwardly. "…that was, um ... good," Sherlock finished and I looked over at the consulting detective and reached down, taking his hand in mine own. He looked started by this gesture, but didn't let go and neither did I.

"I meant what I told him Sherlock," I told him truthfully, taking my hand back from him, not noticing the frown on his face when I did. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him. "I don't have friends, not really. But I consider you a friend for what that's worth. I don't expect the same, but I want you to know that you are not alone. I know what it's like, not having friends because every thinks you're a freak," I told Sherlock and I jumped slightly when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I looked back over at him and a wordless understanding passed between us. I uncrossed my arms and he removed his hand from my shoulder, the both of us carrying on like that moment never happened. "So what did you find out at Vanowen SC?" I asked Sherlock, changing the subject. It was like Mycroft and me. We would never acknowledge that that moment had just passed between the two of us, but neither of us would forget the look that passed between us.

"Pradeep Singh," Sherlock told me as we continued to walk down the street, not heading in in any specific direction still. "Hired as a copywriter in December 2003. He was promoted to junior associate in January 2007. Senior associate in June 2007, and finally, associate creative director in March 2008," Sherlock explained to me as I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow that was a lot of promotions for one man. "He was written up by the human resources department on October the 10th, 2008, for engaging in a shouting match with Mr. Wheeler. After that, his contract with the company was terminated."

"Because he fought with him?" I asked Sherlock in confusion. That seemed like very little to be fired over. It didn't really make a lot of sense.

"Hmm, no. Apparently Singh disappeared. Came to work, left, never came back," Sherlock explained to me and I nodded. That made far more sense. "It was in all the papers at the time apparently. Police got involved, never found him," Sherlock told me and I frowned before looking at Sherlock in surprise.

"I remember the case actually. Gregson's division was the one investigating. He tried to get my help on it, but I was in Edinburg at the time. It went on for a while. When I came back, I told Gregson that I wasn't working cases," I told Sherlock and he nodded thoughtfully.

"Mmm, yes," Sherlock hummed in agreement. "Apparently Pradeep wasn't happy. He was described as a model employee, at the beginning, but "something changed in him". Wheeler says he started talking about how he wanted more power at the company, more control. They gave it to him at first, but when he came in asking for his fourth raise in eighteen months…," Sherlock said before I picked up on his train of thought.

"They told him enough was enough."

"No, apparently," Sherlock told me, shaking his head and I frowned at that. "That's when he snapped. He told Wheeler he'd be sorry. And he worked for Vanowen for about another week before he disappeared without a trace. I think it may be worth paying his wife a visit," Sherlock told me and I nodded in agreement.

"She might be able to tell us what happened to him after he left and what might have caused him to disappear in the first place," I pointed out to Sherlock who grinned back at me.

"Exactly my point," Sherlock told me with a nod before stepping towards the curb and throwing his arm out. "Taxi!" He shouted and a cab slowed, pulling up to the curbing.

"Do you have a magical ability to hail a cab?" I asked Sherlock incredulously as he opened the cab door for me. He rolled his eyes at me and gestured for me to get in. I humoured him and he slid in next to me before barking out an address to the cabbie which I assumed was Singh's address. I looked toward Sherlock as he watched the streets of London rushing by us. "Do you feel like we're missing something?" I asked Sherlock suddenly. Ever since getting on this case, I just had a feeling that there might be something more to this case, just as I had with the cabbie case. It wasn't just about the murders then, it was also about the game this Moriarty person was playing.

"Why do you ask that?" Sherlock asked me, turning around to face me in the cab. I frowned, cocking my head to the side. I didn't know what it was exactly.

"I don't know. I just feel that there should be something we are seeing and we aren't," I told Sherlock and he nodded before frowning himself.

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out," Sherlock told me offhandedly before he turned back to the window. I sighed heavily, pulling out my phone.

**Sent: 1:35PM**

**From: Lexi**

**To: The Emperor of Cake**

**Missing something with this case, but I don't know what. What do you know about Hector Vanowen?**

I texted Mycroft quickly. It didn't take him longer than a few minutes to get back to me which suggested that he was probably in his office. No meetings today at least none that took up all of his time.

**Sent: 1:43 PM**

**From: The Emperor of Cake**

**To: Lexi **

**I'll check him out for you. Do try to not rely on me in the future. **

I snorted at Mycroft's response. Okay, sure it wasn't fair to keep expecting Mycroft's help but I knew that he would give it whether I asked or not. I wasn't lying when I told Vanowen that Mycroft kept an eye out for me. I put my phone away as the cab pulled up at Singh's old residence. Sherlock and I got out and Sherlock surprised me by being the one to pay the cabbie. We walked up to the door of the house and knocked on the door. We waited for a few minutes before the landlord came to the door and escorted us inside, directing us to the flat on the ground floor where Pradeep's wife still lived.

We knocked on the door and waited before the wife of the late Pradeep Singh answered her door. "Hello, how can I help you?" Mrs. Singh asked us hesitantly, one hand still on the door which she only opened a crack. I smiled at her encouragingly as she eyed Sherlock who wasn't making this any easier for us by standing with his hands behind his back and an expression on his face that would scare most people unless you actually got to know him. I nudged him in the ribs and he looked down at me with a glare.

'_Stop scaring her,'_ I told him with a pointed look. He glared at me for a second longer before sighing heavily. He turned back to Mrs. Singh and smiled falsely at her however, not that she would be able to tell. At this point she was giving us a look that she might give crazy people.

"I'm Detective Inspector MacKenna and this is my partner Detective Inspector Holmes. We're here to ask you a few questions about your husband," I told Mrs. Singh, flipping my badge in her face quickly before lowering it. She furrowed her brow as she looked back at us in confusion.

"Pradeep is dead. He died in 2008. What questions could you have for me?" Mrs. Singh asked us, shaking her head.

"It is our understanding, Mrs. Singh, that he was never found, alive or dead. Please may we come in? This won't take long," I asked her and she stared back at the both of us, eyeing Sherlock especially before she nodded once and then again with more conviction before stepping aside and opening the door for us. She led us into the living room and offered us tea which we both declined before sitting down. Sherlock and I sat next to each other on the small loveseat, our shoulders pressed together. Sherlock sat back in his prayer pose, seemingly unaffected by our close contact. I smiled slightly, glad that he seemed to be getting used to me being around, enough at least that he could sit next to me.

"My husband loved me very much, just as I loved him. He never would run away. I held out hope for him for quite some time, but eventually I had to accept that the only possible explanation for his disappearance was death," Mrs. Singh told us, firmly, trying to make us understand what she believed of her husband.

"You think he was the victim of foul play?" I asked her after a long pause when it seemed apparent that Sherlock was just going to be sitting back and watching everything.

"If he had collapsed somewhere, had a heart attack or a stroke, someone would have found him. Pradeep was murdered," Mrs. Singh told us with a nod, slightly tearful. Well, she really did love her husband and believed he loved her. She was adamant that he wouldn't just leave her.

"Or he snapped. Planted a bomb at his workplace and then dropped off the grid before it detonated," Sherlock said, finally breaking out of his prayer pose as he leaned forward in his seat. He added a false smile, this one more obvious than the first after I gave him a look and shook my head at his lack of delicacy.

"Do you have any idea of who might have wanted to hurt your husband?" I asked Mrs. Singh, turning away from Sherlock and back to her. I was going to have to work on Sherlock's questioning skills. I knew that was just him, but we were more likely to get more out of her if we came across as sympathetic and understanding.

"No. There was the one man at his office he argued with a few days before he vanished, but the police were able to clear him," Mrs. Singh explained to us. As she spoke, Sherlock and I looked around the room at the photographs on the wall. "Other than that, he had no enemies. He was…."

"I'm just curious, Mrs. Singh, have you had any work done in this room since 2008?" Sherlock asked her suddenly, cutting her off. I had noticed what he had. There was something off about this room, only slightly, but noticeable to the trained eye.

"Work?" Mrs. Singh asked us frowning in confusion as she looked between Sherlock and me for an answer.

"Remodeling, refurbishment, reconstruction," Sherlock listed off as I got up and looked at the pictures closer.

"No, I haven't touched it since Pradeep disappeared," Mrs. Singh told us as I looked back at Sherlock and her.

"Not even to address the mould on the wall behind this cabinet?" I asked her as I pointed to the cabinet under the pictures.

"How did you—?" Mrs. Singh asked me as she glanced back at me and looked at the cabinet, before taking a quick look at Sherlock and then back at me.

"The nose knows," I told her, smiling at my own joke. There was another smell over here that it would be worth investigating. "Actually, I think we will have that tea now," I told Mrs. Singh who looked at me oddly before getting up and walking away through the flat towards the kitchen in the back room.

As soon as she left Sherlock jumped out of his seat and walked to stand with me in front of the cabinet. We looked at each other and nodded before we each grabbed an end of the cabinet and picked it up, pulling it away from the wall. Sherlock bent and grabbed out his magnifying glass, snapping it open, before he inspected the bottom of the wall where the mould was growing. While he was doing this I checked the famed artwork on the wall that were hung above the cabinet. Sherlock straightened up, looking over the photos with me before he removed the centre frame and set it on the floor followed by the two on the right. He pressed his face against the wall and ran a hand over the surface before steeping back and sharing a look with me. I followed his same inspection of the wall before stepping back and frowning at him that certainly wasn't right.

"The photograph at the end of the mantelpiece, showed Pradeep and Mrs. Singh sitting on the sofa. It was taken in the room that we are in," Sherlock said as he pointed to the photograph on the mantel. "There are several discrepancies between the wall in the photograph and the one that we are facing as I am sure you have noticed. The spacing between the paintings is all wrong," Sherlock continued and I nodded at him to let him know that I understood where he was going with this. "In the photograph they're approximately eighteen centimetres apart. In the room, twelve centimetres. They also hang lower now by about ten centimetres. Someone took them all down, put them back up again, didn't get the measurements right."

"She said she hasn't had any work done in the room and she was right. There's no old nail holes that correspond to the frames' original arrangement. There is, however, a slight bulge," I told Sherlock as I pointed back to the wall. The bulge is what concerned me the most because I had a feeling I knew what the bulge was and I really didn't want to be right.

"The centre of the wall is almost imperceptibly convex. Why? Because the gases released from Pradeep Singh's decomposing body expanded the plastic sheeting that he's wrapped in, pushing outwards," Sherlock told me and I grimaced in disgust.

"That would explain the mould," I told him with a sigh and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"His killer moved insulation to make space for his body. This creates a temperature differential between that section and the others. Condensation formed…," Sherlock said and I nodded, getting his explanation.

"…then the mould. Lovely, so two years ago, Pradeep's murderer tore down that section of wall, stashed him inside, and then replaced and repainted the dry wall," I said and Sherlock nodded at me his face grim as well. He looked around before finding the poker beside the mantelpiece. He brought it up and knocked it into the wall as the kettle started screaming in the kitchen. It didn't take long for Sherlock to knock out a hole in the wall, showing a decomposing face peeking through plastic sheeting. I grimaced and turned to look at Sherlock who didn't seem too disturbed by the body in the wall.

"They're coming out of the walls. They're coming out of the…," I started before a loud scream was heard behind us and then a crashing sounded. Sherlock and I turned around to see Mrs. Singh, the tea cups broken and tea spilling out onto the floor in front of her.

"I believe we have solve the mystery of your husband's disappearance," Sherlock told her and I looked at him and nudged him in the elbows as I pulled out my phone.

"I'll call Lestrade," I told Sherlock as we looked back at Pradeep. I called Lestrade and within the hour, Mrs. Singh's flat was crawling with police. Lestrade wasn't surprised that we were there. Gregson and Bell had accompanied Lestrade since it had originally been there case.

"Great work Red, you too Holmes," Gregson told us as we stood outside of the flat, waiting for Lestrade to tell us that we could leave. He walked away leaving Sherlock and me by ourselves. Anderson kept sneering at us every time he passed by us and Donovan kept shooting us dirty looks as she tried to console Pradeep's wife.

"Red?" Sherlock asked me with an amused look, one eyebrow raised. I smacked him in the arm before crossing my arms and turning away from him trying to hide my grin.

"Shut up," I told him and he chuckled. I looked back at the consulting detective and we both laughed together, as the rest of the people in the Yard stared at us in horror. We were told we could leave and Sherlock and I both walked out together, walking side by side as we carried on. We hailed a cab back to the Yard where Lestrade was supposed to meet us. Sitting in the cab next to Sherlock, we sat, actually talking and laughing together. I came to one conclusion, I was just a girl with her detective. This was my life and this was where I belonged. For once, all fears of not belonging we're gone and all it took was Sherlock Holmes to bring me back to the battle field.


	27. Halfway Out Of The Dark

**(A/N) Another update you cry? Yes, another update because I'm in such a good mood. You'll have to wait until next Sunday though for the start of a new case. One more four chapter case before we get to The Blind Banker! This chapter along with the next case are critical to everything that happens between Sherlock and Lexi. Be patient. This chapter is dedicated to my brilliant Watson. *tackles and hugs* Love you sweetie. XOXO Mels**

**Sherlock: They've already been waiting to see the Blind Banker for a while. **

**Mels: I know that Sherlock but I had to develop your relationship with Lexi first. **

**Sherlock: You've probably lost their interest by now. Who would read this rubbish? It's worse than John's blog. **

**Lady A: *Stomps into the room and stands beside a glaring Mels and crosses her arms.* **

**Mels: Oh I know you didn't just say that. **

**Sherlock: Who's she? *eyes the girl critically***

**Mels: She is **_**my**_** Watson. *glares at Sherlock* Artz?**

**Lady A: With pleasure *grabs Sherlock by his collar and pulls him out of the room* I won't be long, carry on.**

**Mels: With that settled we move onto the chapter. *Listens as Sherlock yelps in the other room and grins***

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Six - Halfway Out Of The Dark<strong>

**"There's a light in a woman's eyes that speaks louder than words." **  
><strong>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Hound of the Baskervilles<em>**

We didn't have to wait too long before Lestrade made it back to his office, Donovan showing Mrs. Singh into one of the conference rooms to talk with her. I sat up on Lestrade's desk, Sherlock standing beside me. Lestrade walked into his office carrying a file with him and stood there staring at us before sighing heavily and walking around his desk, sitting down in his chair and looking back at us. He threw the file down on the desk in front of him as Sherlock and I waited for him to speak.

"Himali Singh didn't kill her husband. ICE confirms she was in Mumbai visiting family during most of October '08. She didn't even come home until she learned Pradeep was missing," Lestrade told us and I nodded. It was obvious that she hadn't killed her husband. She did truly love him and wouldn't have done anything to hurt him.

"Whoever murdered Pradeep probably knew that his wife was out of town. Her trip would have provided privacy and time to kill him and stash him away," Sherlock told Lestrade as he stood rigidly with his hands behind his back. It was interesting to see him like this. He could go from the smiles and laughter of the cab ride when it was just the two of us to the cold, sociopathic demeanour that he normally portrayed to everyone else.

"Maybe Singh had a co-conspirator, someone he built the bomb with. Things went south…," Lestrade started before Sherlock cut him off. I rolled my eyes at him fondly for the look Lestrade gave him.

"Hm. That's a reasonable theory, Detective Inspector. Problem is, we no longer think that Pradeep had anything to do with it," Sherlock told him as if he was speaking to an idiot as he pointed to Lestrade's computer monitor where he had pulled up an article documenting Singh's promotion at Vanowen SC while we were waiting for him earlier.

"What's that? Company newsletter?" Lestrade asked us, looking confused as to what this had to do with anything.

I gestured to the photo as I explained everything to him. "That is Pradeep's desk and that is the air vent in which the bomb was concealed. It's right next to it. If that bomb had gone off when it was supposed to in 2008, it would have killed him then. Vanowen SC's personnel files showed that he did not miss a single day's work until the moment that he left for good. That means he spent almost a week in the early part of October 2008 sitting within spitting distance of a live explosive device," I explained to Lestrade before jumping off of his desk and standing next to Sherlock.

"You think it was meant for him?" Lestrade asked us sceptically.

Sherlock gestured to the monitor as we stood side by side, our arms brushing against each other. "It is abundantly clear that someone wanted Pradeep dead. The question is, who would be willing to go to such lengths? And why?" Sherlock asked him as the door suddenly opened and Donovan walked in with an evidence bag which she threw on the desk in front of Sherlock and me.

"The M.E. confirmed that Pradeep Singh was killed by a gunshot wound to the chest. Death was followed by, and I quote, 'pervasive mummification,'" Donovan told Lestrade disgustedly. Sherlock and I exchanged an amused look. "That's everything we found in his pockets. It's kind of weird, there's a key on a keychain with a button to unlock a car door, but it's definitely not a car key," Donovan told Lestrade, continuing to ignore Sherlock and I as if we weren't even there. Sherlock reached forward and pulled the keychain from the evidence bag, holding it up to show me.

I took it from him and held up to eye level. "This is a safety deposit box key. You can tell by the teeth," I explained to Donovan and Lestrade as I fiddled with it, pulling the key from the rubber coating and handing it off to Sherlock.

"BE 699," Sherlock read off the engraving on the key.

"BE…," Lestrade said, glancing up at Sherlock and me in confusion. "Bank of England?" He asked us and I nodded at him slightly, trying to ignore Sherlock's eye roll.

Not everyone could be as quick as we were to solve things. It was like…our brains were wired slightly different than most peoples. We saw connections where others didn't and our thinking processes worked more quickly. It was difficult to explain but the best way I could was that you looked at someone or something and you just knew everything about it. You couldn't always explain why you knew it, you just did. If you went further you could work backwards and explain how you had made your deductions. It was almost like how you knew that two and two made four but you could really explain to someone else why it did. Just because you couldn't explain it doesn't mean that you didn't know that two and two made four, of that fact you were certain. Our deductions were the same way.

"Box number 699," I confirmed, breaking out of my thoughts easily. "Sherlock and I will go down there and get what's in the box. We'll text you what we find," I told Lestrade as we made to leave. Of course it couldn't always be as easy as that.

"Hang on, I can't have you doing that," Lestrade told us, stopping us in our tracks. I sighed heavily. Yeah, I had a feeling that he wasn't really going to go for that.

"You need our help, this is what we are offering," Sherlock told him having a staring contest with Lestrade. The bloody man square off. I sort of wished I had popcorn, this was amusing me greatly.

"Yeah, but I can't have you running off with our evidence!" Lestrade told us and Sherlock was about to open his mouth to shoot something back at Lestrade, but I stopped him by putting a hand on his arm, an action that caused Donovan and Lestrade's eyebrows to shoot up towards their hairlines. I really didn't want to stop them because I was sure that this would only get more interesting, but we had work to do and I really would rather be back at Baker Street with a cup of tea about now.

"If you let us have it for a bit, we can go over it at Baker Street and find you a lead. Solving this case quicker means everyone gets to go home. If it's not important, I'll bring it to you myself, but if you let Sherlock and I do what we were called in for, this can go a lot smoother for everyone," I told Lestrade pointedly. He stared back at me for a long moment before sighing heavily.

"Fine," He agreed after his long silence. "But you better text me," Lestrade warned me, pointing his finger at me and I grinned as Donovan tried to protest. I made the stop talking gesture in her direction before turning back to Lestrade.

"We'll update you on our findings," I assured him before looking over at Sherlock and smirking at him. "Come along Lock! The game is afoot!" I shouted back to him before dissolving into giggles at his expression before I left and made my way through the division. He caught up with me, not looking exactly amused. "Should we call John?" I asked Sherlock as I took out my phone, ready to call our army doctor back into work.

"Mmm, no. He would be less than helpful in this case and I already have you," Sherlock told me before striding past me as I stopped dead in the hallway. Had he just said that he needed me or was he saying that I was already less than helpful and he didn't need John here as well? "Lexi!" Sherlock called and I grinned before rushing off to catch up with him again. We got into a cab and headed off for the Bank of England. I couldn't stop grinning, even if it seemed like cranky Sherlock was back. He was probably getting hungry, but refused to eat while on cases. We were getting food after the bank, there was a chippy near Baker Street which I could drag him too.

We road in silence and as soon as the cab pulled up to the bank, Sherlock bolted out leaving me to pay for the cab. I rolled my eyes fondly and the cabbie looked at me sympathetically as I handed him over our cab fare. I walked into the bank and skipped off to find Sherlock talking with someone and explaining why we needed to get into the safety deposit box even if we were not Mr. Signh. Actually he wasn't exactly talking to them per say as arguing with them which meant that I had to cut in so that we wouldn't be escorted out of the back by security. They wouldn't let us in to the safety deposit box until I asked Anthea for a little favour. Mycroft's name opened doors just about everywhere. Whereas Sherlock would never ask Mycroft for help, I was not against using all of my available assets and Mycroft certainly was one. Sherlock and I were led into the back where the safety deposit boxes were kept. We made quick work of finding box 699. What we found in it was not what we were expecting. The only thing in the box was a flash drive with H.V. written on it. We collected the flash drive and left the bank, taking another cab back to Baker Street.

"A flash drive? H.V. has to stand for Hector Vanowen, so maybe something he found out about his boss," I suggested to Sherlock as we rode in the cab.

"Obviously. Explains why he was promoted so much. Blackmail. Dull," Sherlock said as he played with the flash drive.

"So, hang on, if Pradeep had information he was using to blackmail Vanowen than Vanowen might have been then one to kill him. Of course, he might not have known that Pradeep had the flash drive," I told Sherlock as I took the flash drive from him and looked at it.

"It's a possibility, but it is a capital mistake to theorize before one has all the facts. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts," Sherlock told me and I grinned at him as I gave him back the flash drive as we slowed down at the curbing of Baker Street.

"I know, but it is still a good theory," I pointed out to Sherlock as we got out of the cab and Sherlock paid the cabbie. "And one we can develop over food. Why don't you go upstairs and grab my laptop and then we can head to the chippy at the corner," I posed to Sherlock who didn't seem all too happy with the idea. "I know, you don't eat on cases, but I do and my hand hurts, so humour me," I told Sherlock and he sighed heavily before heading into 221 as I wanted for him outside, leaning up against the metal fencing by the door. He came down a few minutes later with my laptop and four paracetamol and a bottle of water.

"Here," He told me as he thrust the pills and the water into my hands. I found that he had already opened for me so I wouldn't hurt my hand. I quickly swallowed the pills before following after the detective. We walked in silence and I watched the brooding detective closely. He was in one of his moods again. Men were always cranky when they were hungry. Now only to get him to eat something and stop acting childish about the whole not eating thing.

"Thank you," I told Sherlock and he made a noncommittal grunting noise to show that he had heard me. I grinned at him as he opened the door to the chippy for me and we walked inside together. I sent him over to a table in the back corner and walked up, ordering each of us a basket of chips.

"Two quid, love," The man behind the counter told me and I handed him over the money before taking the baskets and heading over to the table where Sherlock was staring at my computer screen. I was about to ask him what was wrong before I realized he couldn't get past my password. I put the baskets of chips down on the table before leaning over to type in my password. I would have to change it now he had seen it. It looked like he was angry with himself for not having figured it out then again he couldn't have. It was a reference to something that happened on one of my past cases. I sat down across from Sherlock and grabbed the bottle of vinegar, drizzling it over my chips before taking a bite with a satisfied grin on my face.

"So, let's see what Singh had on Vanowen," I told Sherlock as he put the flash drive into my computer and opened the file. There were dozens of documents on it and pictures of files. Sherlock clicked open the first one and smiled.

"Ah, embezzlement. How ordinary," Sherlock said as we flicked through the photos that showed all of the records on it that Pradeep had found of Vanowen's corruption in his own company.

"And stupid. Why would he steal from his own company?" I asked Sherlock as he reached for one of his chips and actually ate it, chewing on it thoughtfully.

"Someone obviously wanted more money," Sherlock said offhandedly as he brought up documents that showed just how much money he was stealing from his own company. "3.4 million to be exact," He said as we each sat back in our seats. He clicked on another image which provided evidence that Vanowen was running an illegal business on the side where he was funnelling the money he embezzled from his company into drug trafficking.

"So, Vanowen was embezzling money from his own company to funnel into his drug business. Pradeep found out and decided to use this bit of information to blackmail Vanowen into promoting him. Vanowen needed to get rid of him though, couldn't risk him telling anyone. When the bomb didn't work he just killed Pradeep and hid him in the wall. He then moved offices because there was an unexploded explosive in the vents. None of this would have been discovered unless the bomb finally did go off, prompting an investigation," I said before I bit into another chip and chewed it while I contemplated all of this.

"A perfectly sound analysis of all of the facts," Sherlock commented as my phone alerted me to a text. I opened it and read over everything that Mycroft had sent me about Vanowen. I chuckled as I read part of it. "What? What is it?" Sherlock demanded of me as I looked up at him grinning.

"Get this, Vanowen's father was a contractor and his mother was a homemaker. When he wanted to go to business school he needed a source of income to fund his way. That was when he started his drug business. He managed to get his way through business school and get enough money to start up his company, but he never gave up his old business," I explained to him as I showed him the file that Mycroft had sent me.

"He would have therefore had the skill to rehang the dry wall only he wasn't all that skilled at it," Sherlock pointed out as he ate another one of his chips before taking out his phone and shooting off a text. "I told Lestrade to bring Vanowen in," Sherlock told me as his phone trilled and he nodded his head. "He said to meet him down at the Yard, they're going to collect him now," Sherlock told me as he got up and started straightening his coat, closing my computer and tucking it under his arm. I looked down at my half eaten basket of chips and sighed before getting up and straightening myself up too. Sherlock immediately stalked off towards the door and walked out without me. I groaned before stomping out after him as he hailed a cab. "Text John tell him to meet us down at the Yard!" Sherlock ordered me as we got into the back of the cab which pulled out into the rush hour traffic.

"You could say please every now and then," I pointed out as I brought out my phone and sent the text off to John, telling him to meet us down at the Yard ASAP and that it was of vital importance that he got there soon. Sherlock fixed me with a look that told me that wasn't going to happen and I sighed heavily before wincing as my hand flared in pain.

"No change?" Sherlock asked me suddenly and I frowned in confusion, staring at him blankly as I didn't quite understand what he was asking of me. "Your hand," Sherlock elaborated after a moment with a roll of his eyes. Oh the attitude.

"No, it still hurts like an SOB, so at least that's something," I told Sherlock sarcastically as I gave him the thumbs up with my good hand. We sat in silence for a while after that, both of us already getting on each other's nerves. This was the way it started out, we could be doing fine and get along for a while but after a while of it being just the two of us, we started getting on each other's nerves.

We got to the Yard and I was forced to pay the cabbie yet again as Sherlock bounded out of the cab leaving me behind. I swore in at least three different languages as the cabbie made a comment about how Sherlock was a git which I found myself agreeing to. John was waiting for us downstairs as apparently he had tried to go up to the division but had run into Donovan who hadn't allowed him to go back to Lestrade's office. To say that John wasn't happy was an understatement. He was not happy that we had called him off of his date, but he instantly recognized that Sherlock and I were about to start going at each other's throats. It wasn't that I couldn't get along with him. I actually could. You had to take Sherlock's moods and really Sherlock himself in strides. You couldn't get upset if he snapped at you. That was just the way he was. As for leaving me to pay for the cab, I understood that he was in case mode and didn't even think about how I might be upset with him rushing off and leaving me behind to pay for the cab. Normally, I would be able to just roll my eyes at him fondly and take a deep breath. Life was too short to get worked up over stupid things like that anyway.

I could understand that Sherlock didn't understand social cues or what would be considered rude or polite. I had issues understanding some things on occasion. Today, my patience was wearing a little thin however. My hand hurt and probably needed another cast but I didn't feel like telling John just so he could tell me off about not taking care of myself. I knew he meant well, but I didn't need the third degree today. I also had really bad cramps and running all around London was not helping anything. I just wanted to curl up on the couch in a pile of blankets and watch movies with some hot chocolate until it all just went away. I had no such luck however. My day had been running around for this case, getting sexually harassed by Vanowen, and now, having to deal with a childish Sherlock and a pouting John because he had been called away from his date. To say that I couldn't take it anymore was an understatement.

"Stop your bloody complaining," I told John, rounding on the army doctor who was going off on Sherlock about how he had been on a date and there was no reason he really needed to be here. Both men turned to me, John looking shocked by my outburst. I took a deep breath and held it before letting it out as I tried to calm myself. "Look, I'm sorry John, but you are needed here unless you want me to kill Sherlock. I'm not having a good day and I would really rather be home right now so if we could finish up this case so I can go die on the couch that would be fantastic," I told the boys, John looking properly scared like any man would be over an overemotional pissed off woman.

I nodded at the both of them with a note of finality before stalking off to Lestrade's office so that I could go over the evidence we had found on Vanowen that proved he was the murderer and the man who created the original bomb. I knocked on Lestrade's office door before I stormed inside. I wasn't sure why I felt so annoyed, but I had a feeling that that had a lot to do with hormones. Lestrade had his feet up on the desk and he was eating a donut as I walked in and plopped myself down in the chair in front of his desk. He looked alarmed as he took in my expression and posture. Lestrade had two daughters of his own so I knew he could tell that I was not in a good mood.

"Rough day?" He asked me hesitantly and I looked over at him with a glare before taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself.

"Sort of, yeah," I told him as I sighed heavily. "Looks like you've had one too," I pointed out as I took in his tired eyes. He nodded and made a sound of agreement as he took another bite of his donut. "So, a flash drive," I told Lestrade as I held it up "Pradeep locked it away in the safety deposit box," I told him as I handed it over to him and he inserted it into his computer. "On it is all records of how Vanowen was embezzling from his company and using the money to fund his drug business," I explained to him as he started looking through the pictures and the documents.

"So, Mr. Singh finds out about it and…," Lestrade said making a noise that sound that sounded like poof. "…he gets rid of him so he can't tell anyone what he knows."

"Exactly," I told him as I jiggled my foot up and down and picked at the sleeves of my jumper.

"We're just waiting for Donovan to bring him back, but we have him even if he doesn't say anything," Lestrade told me before his mouth turned up in a grin. "So how is life with Sherlock Holmes," He asked me, grinning at my cheekily. I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing where he was going with this. He thought my irritation was because of Sherlock. In truth it was just PMS. I didn't want to know how Sherlock knew before I had, but he had been right.

"Its lovely thank you," I told him, straightening up in my chair and fixing him with a steady gaze. He raised any eyebrow at this so I continued. "You know, he isn't as bad as you think. You don't really know a person until you spend more than a few hours with them. Sherlock is, well he's Sherlock," I told Lestrade knowing that there was no way I could adequately describe Sherlock with simple words. He was so much more complicated than that and I loved his complexity. If people were all puzzles, Sherlock was the most intricate one I had ever attempted to solve.

"I'll take you word on that," Lestrade told me and I shook my head quickly. Lestrade brought his feet off of his desk and sat straight, looking across to me.

"I'm serious Greg," I told him, leaning forward and resting my arms against his desk as I put my head down on them. "I know what you all think. You think he is brilliant, but there is a part of you that wonders if he is just mental. I know you think the same about me," I said, holding my hand up when Lestrade tried to interrupt me. "No, that's okay, I can understand why you would think that way. The truth is though, we see the world differently. Sherlock is the most amazing man I think I have ever met. I know you don't always want to listen to us even if you do call us in, but I promise you, whatever we tell you, it's all true," I promised Lestrade who nodded at me to let me know he understood me.

Lestrade went to respond to me, but at this point his attention was distracted by something happening outside of his office. I turned around in my seat to see Donovan bringing Vanowen through the division, escorting him to one of the conference rooms. "That's our cue," Lestrade said as he got up from his chair. I groaned and pulled myself out of my seat, following Lestrade out of his office.

We meet up with Sherlock and John who I smiled at sheepishly to let them know that we were all good again. I wasn't annoyed with them anymore and I wasn't completely sure if I had been annoyed with them in the first place or more annoyed at everything and everyone. They followed us as Lestrade picked up a piece of paper work and we walked into the conference room were Donovan was waiting with Vanowen. As soon as Lestrade was in the room, Donovan left, pushing past me in the door way, making a point of hitting me in the shoulder. It was so nice to know that we could act like mature adults. If anyone should have a grudge it was me and I did, but that didn't mean that I couldn't be civil towards her. Lestrade handed the paperwork over to Vanowen and explained that they had called him in to answer a few questions about his former employee and that they needed him to read over the form and sign it before they could begin. The form basically stated that whatever Vanowen said was true and that at any time he wished he could seek council if he felt that he needed it. Basically, it meant that whatever he told us without a lawyer present could be used in court against him. It was a good tactic since Vanowen didn't know about the flash drive and assumed he was safe since Pradeep was dead.

"All this… just so you can ask me a few questions?" Vanowen asked Lestrade incredulously as he handed the form with the clipboard to Lestrade who put it on the corner of his desk.

"It's just a consent form, sir. Standard procedure," Lestrade told him as Donovan walked in and took the form from him before leaving the four of us alone again.

"So now you wanna tell me what this is all about?" Vanowen asked us and I grinned at that from my spot right in between John and Sherlock. Oh he just had to ask me that. I was going to have so much fun with this.

"I'm so glad that you asked that question," I told Vanowen with a manic grin before Sherlock held up the flash drive we had found. "I don't suppose you know what this is?" I asked him before continuing on as John fought to hide the smile that was threatening to come out. Vanowen stared back at me with a vacant gaze. Yes, I thought as much. "Obviously not. This is the flash drive where Pradeep kept all his information on you. Specifically that you were embezzling money from your own company and funnelling it into your illegal drug business," I clarified for Vanowen with a grin when I saw his face morph into an angry expression. Those that got instantly defensive always had something to hide.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Vanowen snapped at me at which point Sherlock cut in, taking over for me. John didn't look happy that Vanowen had snapped at me. I put a hand on his arm and his expression softened. I was touched that he was ready to defend me, but we didn't need to get into it right now. Vanowen really didn't bother me anymore. He was an idiot if he thought no one would ever find out what he had done.

"We've learned since we spoke this afternoon that you come from modest origins. Father a contractor, mother a homemaker," Sherlock deduced as Vanowen's face paled. "So when you went to business school, you needed a source of income. Something to pay your tuition and provide you with seed money for your company," Sherlock continued before gesturing his hand towards me as indication for me to take over. He knew that something had gone down between Vanowen and me. He was giving me the chance to get the satisfaction of having been the one to break Vanowen down.

"You were a business man and the business with the highest payoff was in drug dealing. That was no problem with you, you had excellent sales skills. Your business took off, you got through business school and started your company with the nice little slush fund you had set up from your illegal business on the side. You decided that it was too good to give up. You didn't need the money now to live off of, you had your own company. You were making more than enough money, but you got greedy. You started embezzling money from your own company to support your second company. No one was any the wiser. Until Pradeep Singh got a job at Vanowen SC," I said and Vanowen nodded slightly, an involuntary gesture. "It didn't take him long to realize that some of the numbers in the company reports weren't matching up and he got suspicious of you. He snuck into your office and got a pretty good amount of information. I'm sure once he found out he decided to turn the screw so to speak," I finished, gesturing for Sherlock to pick up where I had left off.

"Mm. Three promotions in a year. That smells like a payoff to me," Sherlock agreed with me, smirking triumphantly at Vanowen. We had him exactly where we wanted him to be and there was no way he was getting out of this.

"No. I promoted Pradeep because he deserved it," Vanowen insisted and I snorted at that and rolled my eyes. No, he did it to cover his own arse. Of course, after the third promotion Vanowen had finally had enough.

"Actually," I said after a pause. "You didn't promote him because he deserved it, at least that wasn't your motive behind it. Pradeep's price for his silence was to blackmail you into promoting him within your company. If you didn't he would have gone to the police and the media and told them all about your embezzling and your little business. Your name would have been ruined and you would have found yourself with a one way ticket to the lock up which is why you had to pay off Pradeep until his demands escalated past the point that you could meet them. Then you cast about for a way to kill him," I said and Vanowen looked back at me straight faced and rather bemusedly. "It didn't take long for Sherlock and me to figure out how you went about it after we figured that out. It was elementary actually. You already had threatening letters from the ELM. So, you built a bomb, planning to blame them. But when it didn't detonate, you simply shot Pradeep and walled him off. I imagine it was your father who taught you how to hang drywall."

"That's very creative, I'll give you that much," Vanowen said still smiling bemusedly at me. He turned to Gregson and pointed back at Sherlock and me over his shoulder. "Can they just sling mud at me like this?" He asked Lestrade who straightened and took a few steps towards him.

"You can seek counsel at any time, sir," Lestrade reminded him calmly. I could see the internal struggled in Vanowen's eyes over this decision. On one hand if he sought counsel it would make it look like he was a criminal, but if he didn't he could end up digging himself into a much deeper hole.

"Hardly surprising that you were the one to lead the search for new offices for Vanowen SC," Sherlock said and Vanowen turned slowly back towards us. Donovan entered the room again and threw a file down on the table in front of Sherlock and me before she left the room again with a dirty look in my direction. "You were, after all, the only one who knew that there was an unexploded bomb in the wall," Sherlock finished as he reached forward and grabbed the file off of the table, not even perturbed by the way Donovan was acting.

It didn't bother him as much as it did me and maybe that was because my experience with Donovan was slightly worse than his. As far as I knew, Anderson and Donovan had never done anything that had almost gotten him killed. The only reason they stayed on was because the higher ups found out that I was a consultant for the police and therefore should never have been there. In their eyes, Anderson and Donovan did nothing wrong in not listening to me, even if it had almost cost me my life. They said I had taken it upon myself to go after a suspected serial killer therefore everything that happened to me was my fault and had nothing to do with the fact that I had asked for help that never came. I knew that Lestrade hadn't had much say in the matter, in fact he was lucky he hadn't been fired. The only reason he had taken Sherlock on was because he was desperate. Donovan and Anderson's dislike of Sherlock probably stemmed from me actually now that I thought about it. I knew Sherlock hadn't worked long with Lestrade before Lestrade kicked him out when his drug habit got to be too much.

"You know what? I think I will… actually call my lawyer," Vanowen told us as he reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Well if you do, Mr. Vanowen, you might want to tell him that you're about to be arrested," Sherlock told him as he looked up from the file Donovan had brought in.

"You have a flash drive with information that you claim Pradeep found in my office which you can't even prove actually belonged to me. You also have no records that I am running this "drug" business. The rest is just some stupid theories. That's not evidence," Vanowen scoffed. Straightening while still smiling at us bemusedly.

"Yes, well. Lexi found something on one of the scraps of paper that was used to pack the bomb," Sherlock told him with a smirk on his face. John watched everything in confusion since he hadn't been around for most of this investigation. It was only fitting that he should be here for the conclusion of the case however since he had been here for the beginning. I was surprised that Sherlock had given me the credit for the find. Technically we had found it together, Sherlock a few seconds after I had. I would have assumed that he would have claimed the find of the piece of evidence that solidified our claims and was that last bit of evidence we needed to put Vanowen away. "An imprint of the word "NOVOCAINE." Useful handwriting sample, but the message itself, rather opaque," Sherlock said before looking over at me expectantly.

"Until one considers your love of crosswords that is. Novocaine. Answer to 144 across from the Telegraph's crossword, October 13th, 2008," I told him before taping the side of my head. "Eidetic memory. 123 down was Hannibal," I recalled with a grin at the shocked expression this earned from Vanowen, Lestrade, and John. "The clue was "Pain's enemy" by the way. In case you were wondering," I added as an afterthought.

"Now, Sargent Donovan and the Questioned Documents Unit have just matched it to a handwriting sample you gave us when you signed your consent form," Sherlock told him grinning in triumph as Vanowen bit his lip. "Lestrade, the honour is all yours," Sherlock said gesturing to Vanowen.

Lestrade stepped forward towards Vanowen with his handcuffs. "Mr. Vanowen, would you face that way please?" He asked him and Vanowen turned, his arms coming behind him as Lestrade cuffed him. "You're under arrest for the bombing that took the lives of David Preston and Royce Maltz and the murder of Pradeep Singh," Lestrade told him as I looked back at John and Sherlock. I brushed my hands off and grinned at my Baker Street boys.

"Another job well done. Thank you, thank you," I said bowing to each of them exaggeratedly. I straightened up as Lestrade led Vanowen away leaving the three of us in the conference room. "We make a fantastic team don't we? Yeah, yeah we do," I told the boys as we headed out through the division. Sherlock looked at me in amusement having spent more time around me that day than John who looked at me worriedly. We headed out into the division and Lestrade stopped Sherlock and me just before we left, looking flustered.

"It's Vanowen, says he has something he'll only tell the two of you," Lestrade told us and Sherlock and I looked at each other before leaving John to wait for us, following Lestrade back to the holding cell he had placed Vanowen in. "You've got five minutes," Lestrade warned us before he walked away not looking happy with this decision.

"What's so important you can only tell us?" Sherlock asked Vanowen as soon as Lestrade was out of ear shot. Vanowen stood up from the bed and walked closer to the bars of his new cell.

"Moriarty," Vanowen told us and Sherlock and I stiffened at the name. "Thought you might like to know. The bomb wasn't my idea, it was his," Vanowen told us with a little grin on his face.

"Moriarty is a person?" I asked Vanowen sceptically. Why would he tell us this and what did Moriarty have to do with the bomb. Why would he come up with the idea? Urgh, this made no sense.

"No, he's something more," Vanowen told us echoing the words of the cabbie.

"More than a man?" Sherlock asked him, the same question he had asked the cabbie as I frowned in confusion. That name came up again. Moriarty. Whoever they were they were dangerous. "What then? An organization?" Sherlock demanded him as Vanowen stepped away from the bars with a little smirk on his face.

"That's all you're gonna know. He's a fan of yours. I think he was just saying hi," Vanowen told us before he sat down and stared forward blankly, signalling that he was done talking. Sherlock and I looked at each other before turning around and walking back down the hallway. We stopped out of ear shot of Vanowen and turned to face each other.

"I told you we were missing something," I told Sherlock, speaking quickly since I knew that Lestrade could be back at any moment.

"How did you know?" Sherlock demanded of me and when I didn't answer he asked me the question again. "How, how did you know that he was involved?" Sherlock asked me grabbing my shoulders and staring at me intensely.

"I didn't" I told him and he removed his hands, his expression turning less stony. "I just had a feeling. This case was too easy. Yes, we had to run about a bit before we figured it out, but once we got on the right track, it was too easy to see it was Vanowen. He was right though, he was just saying hi. It was never about the case. It was about this Moriarty showing us what he could do if he wanted to. He could blow up a building. The man that accidently called and set off the bomb, I don't think it was accidental," I told Sherlock and he snapped his gaze back up to mine.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked me and I shook my head trying to put the pieces together myself. There was just something that didn't fit here.

"More than a man. That's the same thing the cabbie told us. You asked if it was an organization. What if it's both? A man with an organization, people that he controls, uses to do his dirty work," I told Sherlock hurriedly as I looked back to make sure Lestrade wasn't heading our way.

"More than a man," Sherlock mumbled just as we heard Lestrade coming back to collect us. "Don't say anything," Sherlock told me and I looked over at him incredulously.

"I wasn't going to. John can't find out about this either," I told Sherlock and he nodded his head in agreement before we both changed our expression to look passive as Lestrade walked around the corner he paused before shaking his head at us.

"I thought I would have to drag you away," Lestrade said as we walked forward and joined him at the end of the hall. "What did he want?" Lestrade asked us and Sherlock immediately answered him with a well thought up lie.

"He wanted to gloat, the criminal classes are all so dull. Come along Lexi," Sherlock said before brushing past Lestrade. I smiled at the confused man and patted him on his shoulder before following Sherlock back over to John. Whoever this Moriarty person was, we wouldn't talk about him around John. It seemed like there was a great game being played and the first move had just been made. We walked down the stairs together in silence, John not even asking us what had happened, and out to the curbing where we hailed a cab. I told the cabbie to take us back to Baker Street, but John had other ideas.

"The A&E actually," John told the cabbie who nodded and pulled out onto the road. I looked over at John nervously and saw him watching me. Yeah, I was busted. "I did know, you know. I am a doctor. I knew your hand wasn't okay but I wanted to see how long you would do things for Sherlock before you finally told me yourself," John remarked pointedly as I laughed nervously.

"I was going to tell you after the case," I lied and he raised an eyebrow at me as Sherlock watched on in amusement. He was leaving me to get told off by the army doctor by myself.

"No you weren't," John said seeing through my lie. I cursed in Russian and Sherlock smirked, obviously knowing what I had said. I wasn't surprised, Mycroft knew Italian and French. Sherlock was probably like me and had learnt multiple languages just because he was bored. That would mean I would have to be careful about what I said around if I was referencing him.

"Yeah, I wasn't. I don't like hospitals," I told John, crossing my arms defensively in front of my chest, until John forced me to move them so I wouldn't hurt my hand. I sighed heavily but listened to him.

"It's just the A&E. We'll be in and out," John assured me as I grumbled to myself, leaning away from the army doctor and against Sherlock's shoulder, burying my face in the arm of his jacket as I let out a groan. I mumbled into Sherlock's shoulder in French and he chuckled, the movement shaking me as well as he caught on to what I was saying. It wasn't particularly nice, but I wasn't happy. I really didn't want another cast. We got to the A&E and John paid the cabbie before turning back to me as I sat like a petulant child, staring up at him from the interior of the cab. "Lexi," John said in his Captain's voice and I narrowed my eyes at him before getting out of the cab and joining Sherlock and John. John led me inside the A&E, Sherlock seemingly helping him so that I couldn't leg it out of there.

"I curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal," I told Sherlock, narrowing my eyes at the detective when he smirked at me. We walked up to the counter and I glared at the back of John's head as he moved forward to speak to the woman behind the desk.

"Contemplating the ways you can murder him?" Sherlock mused and I fixed him with my glare. Of course the bloody git didn't even seemed fazed. He had one lesson he needed to learn though. Nothing was more terrifying than a pissed off woman.

"Yours right now actually," I told him as I overheard John telling the lady that I had gotten into a bit of an accident and needed a cast put on my hand again. I wouldn't exactly call punching a murderer in the face an accident. Despite the fact that I had hurt my hand, I wouldn't have changed what I did. That bloody guy had been asking to be punched.

"I'm terrified," Sherlock told me sarcastically and I fixed him with a look, poking my finger into his chest as I stared up at the consulting detective.

"Don't let my looks deceive you. I have the mouth of a sailor, the temper of an Italian housewife, and the tolerance of an Irishman," I warned Sherlock as John joined us again looking at our position worriedly. Sherlock smirked at me as I slowly lowered my hand.

"Um, if you're ready," John told me, gesturing back to the nurse who was waiting to take me back. Lord give me patience because if you give me strength, I will probably need bail money with it. I knew that John meant well and was just trying to watch out for me, but I wasn't lying. I hated hospitals and I hated people fussing over me. It was why I had only allowed John to patch me up the first time.

"Ready to have someone mess with my hand and put it in another cast? I've been jumping at the idea all day," I told John sarcastically and he rolled his eyes at me before I strode forward. "Let's just get this bloody over with," I said as I started following the nurse to the back. She seemed to understand that I was in no mood for this. The first thing she did was lead me into an x ray room and manipulated my hand, taking x rays of it as John and Sherlock waited outside the room. Once we were done, she led the three of us into an examination room and told us the doctor would be in shortly. "Sorry," I apologized to John as I sat up on the examination table. It wasn't his fault my hand was like this, it was mine and I couldn't take out my frustrations on him.

"That's alright. You know they do say that doctors make the worst patients," John joked and I couldn't help but grin at him as he made a reference to one of my degrees.

"Not technically a doctor at least in my books," I reminded him as my irritation slowly drained away. Oh, I was still not happy with this, but I wasn't pissed at John or Sherlock anymore. The door opened and the doctor walked in with my x rays, a bright grin on his face.

"So, Ms. MacKenna I heard you got into a bit of an accident," The doctor said as he strode forward and hung up my x rays, taking a look at them. "You fractured your knuckles pretty good. They're on the mend, but they're not healing as well as I would like. How long ago was this injury?" The doctor asked me and I looked back at Sherlock and then at the doctor.

"Um, over a week ago now," I told him sheepishly and he frowned at me. Yeah, I know I didn't take care of myself properly. If I could handle it myself, I didn't get help.

"Well, I can see that it was healing before it cracked again. It says here you recently jarred it again. We'll have to put you in another cast. Who put the first one on?" The doctor asked me as a nurse walked in with the casting materials.

"John did, he's a doctor," I told the doctor, pointing over to where John sat beside Sherlock. He nodded in confirmation as I looked back at the doctor. "I made him take it off early," I told him, not wanting the doctor to think that John was an idiot for having taken it off.

"Alright then," The doctor said as he started getting the materials ready. "This shouldn't take long and then you should be on your way," The doctor told me as he got started putting the cast on. I looked away from him and watched Sherlock as he put my new cast on. I focused on the detective to get my mind off of the fact that every time he moved my hand it felt like the bone was grating together. Sherlock stared back at me passively as John watched to make sure that the doctor was doing everything properly. "All done," the doctor told me after what seemed like forever. I looked back at my new cast and saw it was green this time instead of the pink. Well at least it would match better. "And there you go," The doctor said as he took out a sharpie from his lab coat and signed my cast, adding his phone number. "Call if you need anything," he told me, winking flirtatiously.

"I'm sure I can take care of her," Sherlock said as he got up from his chair and helped me down off of the exam table. "Come along John," Sherlock continued as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head before leading me to the door. We walked out together, the doctor's face extremely priceless. As soon as we were clear, Sherlock dropped his arm from my waist.

"Thank you," I told him, knowing that he had done it because he knew how I felt when men tried to flirt with me. Flirting was fine, but I just felt uncomfortable when people tried. It just didn't seem genuine half of the time and I knew they were basing it all off of looks.

"You're welcome," Sherlock told me simply as John caught up with us, looking a bit confused about everything that had just happened. We got a cab back to Baker Street and Sherlock let us in, leading the way up to the flat. I smiled as soon as I stepped into the living room. This was home. John moved to make tea as Sherlock immediately went for his chair. We had fallen into these routines of late, when on and off a case. John made the tea, Sherlock ran to his chair as soon as we got in so I couldn't steal it, and I took up residence on the couch.

"What do you want for dinner?" John asked us as he stepped back in from the kitchen, holding up takeaway menus.

"Not hungry," Sherlock said at the same time I said "Angelo's!"

"Do they deliver?" John asked me, ignoring Sherlock's comment.

"They do for me," I told him as I got my phone out. "You're usual?" I asked John and he nodded at me before running back off into the kitchen as the kettle started screaming. I punched in Angelo's number and placed our order, getting what John and Sherlock normally ate and my usual order as well. This was another one of our rituals now, the celebratory eating at Angelo's after solving a case. Tonight, I wanted a night in though and I could tell Sherlock and John needed one as well. Tonight, we would celebrate inside the flat. I was officially declaring this as a movie night. John walked back into the living room with our tea and I took my mug from him before putting my casted hand on my hip and fixing the boys with a long stare. "Alright both of you in your jim jams now. I am officially declaring this a movie night!" I ordered the both of them.

"Um, I actually think I had something to go do tonight," John stammered as Sherlock watched me passively. He adopted his prayer pose and I knew that the wheels in his head were turning.

"Nope, not going to happen Watson," I told the shorter man as I put my tea down on the coffee table. "The three of us are watching movies because you forced me into this bloody cast and I actually am PMSing so pyjamas now and no if, ands, or buts from you," I told him as I pushed him towards the stairs to his room.

"Fine, alright," John relented, shaking me off as I mimed kicking him towards the stairs. I turned back to Sherlock grinning evilly as the consulting detective sat, watching me. He wasn't getting out of this either.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," I told Sherlock as I stalked over towards him. "You have two choices. You can either go and get changed yourself or I will have to force you to," I told him and he smirked at this.

"You weight 120 lb and your knuckles are fractured. In any fight the odds would be in my advantage," He remarked with an amused chuckle before I went and leaned in towards his face, getting up in his personal bubble. I smirked at him devilishly before I hooked my hand under his elbow and pulled him from his seat. Sherlock made a strangled noise as he fought to right himself. I brought my hand away, staring up at the consulting detective who was now glaring down at me.

"Let me rephrase that, you get your skinny arse in there and change. Unless you still think that I can't take you?" I asked him raising an eyebrow. He cleared his throat before brushing past me and heading to his room, closing his door with a resounding bang. Now that I had that sorted, I went back to my own room and changed into a pair of short grey cotton pants and a certain purple dress shirt I had nicked off of Sherlock when Mrs. Hudson had brought up our wash. I pulled my hair out of its elastic and let it flow down my back. It was extremely curly since it had been up all day and it bounced around me as I padded barefooted now back into the living room. John was sitting in his chair, now in his striped pyjamas and his dressing gown.

"Are you happy now?' He grumbled as he gestured to his new apparel. It wasn't said in irritation, but more like in amusement so I knew I was forgiven for any irritation I might have caused him.

"Ecstatic," I told him with a grin as I leaned over and kissed the army doctor on the cheek before straightening as the doorbell downstairs rang. "I'll get it!" I called out before I rushed and grabbed my wallet before descending the stairs. Angelo had sent along Billy to us and the man handed me over the bag off food. I tried to pay him, but he said that he had strict orders from Angelo that he would lose his job if he tried to accept any money from me. I thank the boy, giving him money for his troubles which I assured him wouldn't affect his employment status. I made my way back up the stairs and walked inside the living room to find Sherlock now dressed in a grey t shirt and sweat pants along with his dressing gown. I felt like I should have one, but I didn't.

"That's my shirt," Sherlock stated as I walked in and put the bag of food on the coffee table as John actually got up and got plates and flatware for us. I looked up at the consulting detective who had one eyebrow raised and calculating eyes trained on me.

"Yes, yes it is and no you aren't getting it back until I'm done with it," I told him with a grin as I dug out the boxes of food from the bag. I found another little surprise inside the bag. Angelo had sent along a bottle of Sangria for me. I absolutely loved the man right now. My tea was long forgotten at this point as I got myself a glass of the Sangria, sipping it down and sighing.

"What do we do now?" Sherlock asked me suddenly once all of us were sitting in our respective spots and eating our delicious food. He eyed me suspiciously as I took a bite of my garlic bread. Fattening foods, especially pasta, was always my go to comfort dish and Angelo made the best Italian food.

"We are going to eat and then the three of us are going to find a way to cram onto the couch because I get cold and I am going to use you for your body heat," I said making John giggle adorably. Ugh, why did he have to be so cute? I wasn't attracted to John. I actually considered him to be like a brother to me which was why I had kissed him on the cheek like I would often do to Mycroft. "Warning, I'm sort of a cuddlier. It's why Mycroft and I don't watch movies together often. Anywhoseywhatsy," I said getting away from that subject. "Then we are going to watch movies, it'll be fun. We need a break," I told them as I took another big bite of my pasta dish.

As soon as we were done eating, I ran back to my room and found my DVD player, hooking it up to the TV rig we had going on in the living room. That was my second reason for wanting to watch movies. When else were you going to get the chance to have a movie running on seven screens at once? I only had this one chance before Mycroft came by and cleared all the screens away. I popped in the first movie and ushered the boys over to the couch were we all managed to cram in together, with blankets piled over us. I sighed as I sat with my boys, leaning my head down on John's shoulder and smiling in contentment before I shot up grinning as the Disney logo appeared on the screens.

"What are we watching?' John asked me sounding slightly worried as I grinned manically back at him. I had good movies planned and yes, all of them were Disney films. There was one thing that not even Sherlock Holmes could claim he didn't like and if he did, I could beat some sense into him though it seemed my sense beating hand was a little injured. Speaking of my arm, I would have to get John and Sherlock to sign my cast, hell, I would have to get Mycroft to sign it. If I had to wear the bloody thing it was at least going to be pretty. I knew I could get Anthea to doodle all over it for me. This could actually turn out not half bad and it did mean that Sherlock and John were required to help me again.

"You'll see," I told John as the movie started on a dark screen. As soon as the sun started creeping up, I waited for my cue before loudly singing, "Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba!" I dissolved into giggles as soon as I saw the look that Sherlock sent my way. He looked rather alarmed and I had to clutch my side as I just couldn't get his expression out of my mind. "Your face!" I told him as I pointed at him. "Oh my good it was bloody priceless," I told him as I managed to stop laughing and settled down on John's shoulder with a smile still on my face. I wasn't kidding, I really was a cuddlier. I knew that John wouldn't mind as much as Sherlock would which was why I had chosen to lean against him rather than Sherlock. John actually put an arm around my shoulders and let me snuggle into him with a grin on his face as he saw first-hand my snuggling.

We watched the Lion King though and I will admit that I cried when Mufasa died. I snuck looks at Sherlock every so often and saw that he was watching the movie, his eyes scanning the screen. He frowned a few times, furrowing his eyebrows together. Other than that he seemed to be enjoying it, but I couldn't tell. When the credits finally started rolling I peeled myself off of John's side and grinned as I pulled myself from the cocoon of blankets we had created. I was instantly aware of the lack of warmth that John and Sherlock provided.

"So, what did you think?" I asked Sherlock as I took out the DVD and got the next film ready to go in. I had a line-up of some of the movies I thought the boys would enjoy the most. I found out half way through the Lion King that John was another Disney fan. I had graced them with my singing during all of the songs. Out of tune of course, that was the only way to do it.

"It was Hamlet with lions," Sherlock remarked sounding slightly confused. I looked over at him as I put the next film in. He looked adorable with his curls all a mess and a slight pout on his face because he could figure out what it was he had just watched.

"Yes, it was. Disney likes to do that," I told him as the next movie started. For the next hour and a half or so we watched Peter Pan. Sherlock was infinitely more interested in this movie than the first. He was routing for Hook over Peter however which I had suspected he would do. Mycroft had let slip that Sherlock loved to play pirates when he was younger which was why had had chosen that particular movie.

After Peter Pan we watched Snow White and then Cinderella. I would swear forever that I had caught John sniffling when Snow White died and when Cinderella was locked in the tower. He was a softy and I loved that. The movie that Sherlock had the most problems with was the Great Mouse Detective. I had thought that Sherlock would enjoy the film because it was about a detective mouse, but he ended up complaining through the entire film. He kept making comments about how there was no way a mouse could be a detective and the logic of the movie was all flawed. By the end of the bottle of Sangria, I was beyond the point of caring and was actually rather amused by the comments he was making. It was after this movie that John had left and went up to bed. I only shrugged and put in the next film, snuggling against Sherlock now. I wasn't sure exactly at what point it was that I fell asleep. I did recall that Sherlock had laid down slightly as he started to fall asleep and then I kind of followed him until I was lying next to him, trying and succeeding to not fall off of the couch. I remembered saying good night to him, too tired to get up and go to bed. I sort of remembered his mumbled response but after that all was black. Even without Sherlock playing his violin, I slept peacefully beside the consulting detective, the nightmares held at bay as I listened to the beating of Sherlock's heart under my ear. A sound so beautiful, the sound of life. It was a sound that assured me that this was real, that Sherlock was real, and that this was really happening. Before Baker Street, my life had been grey and dull, now it was a bright grey blue with bursts of gold and green and exciting, oh how it was exciting. Unbeknownst to the two sleeping detectives, each of them turned in their sleep and snuggled up into each other with content smiles upon their faces. We were both halfway out of the dark.


	28. The Hallow Man 200 Follower Special

**200 Follower Special**

**The Hallow Man**

**Trigger Warning: Depictions of torture/violence and drug use**

**(A/N) I've finally reached 200 followers! Thank you all so much for your support. Virtual hugs for all of you. I wanted to give you all something special for the occasion as I gave you Lexi's meeting with Mycroft when we reached our first hundred followers and my brilliant Watson recommended that I write about what actually happened to Lexi when she was kidnapped. Before you read the chapter, just know I do mention drug use/ torture so reader discretion is advised. Naturally this chapter is for my Watson. We start the next case next week and then we enter into the Blind Banker. Now, onto the chapter.**

* * *

><p>I had been on the case for three of the longest days of my life. Lestrade had called me in. A new serial killer was stalking the streets of London and he was at his wits end. No leads and nothing much to go on, just the bodies. I sat in my office going through crime scene photos, my hand on my jaw. I sighed heavily and took my glasses off, rubbing my face tiredly. If we were going by the pattern then we would be finding another body soon if I didn't solve the case. This killer took his victims, tortured them for three days, before killing them and dumping their bodies around the city. I hadn't slept in three days. I was wired because of the drugs. I had been doing so well, but I had relapsed because of this case. I needed the Cocaine to think and to stay awake. I could feel the beginnings of withdrawal hitting me as my body craved another shot of the drug. I gritted my teeth. I was not going to give into cravings. I could last a few more hours at least. Lestrade was going to started getting suspicious soon. I needed my head somewhat clear.<p>

I picked up another one of the crime scene photos and scanned it, looking carefully for anything that I might have missed the first time. I leaned in closer to inspect the picture before squinting as I noticed something I hadn't the first time. Near the body was a crumpled up piece of paper. It looked like trash from the alleyway but it was actually looked like some sort of receipt. I pulled out my magnifying glass and held it up to the picture as I tried to make out what was on it. It must have fallen out of the killers pocket when he was dumping the victim's body. I made out some lettering on the receipt, but part of it was blotched out, probably by rain. I wrote down the letters of what I could make up of the company name on it before I got up and hurried out of my office. I darted around the police officers that were walking around the main office as I made my way back to Lestrade's office. He was out right now as his superintendent wanted to see him. He was getting a lot of heat over this case which was why I was working so hard to solve the case for him.

I entered Lestrade's office after narrowly avoiding Anderson and Donovan and I flicked on the light switch. I sat down behind his desk and turned on his computer. It was the one thing I didn't have in my own office. I played with the sleeves of my jumper slightly as I waited for Lestrade's computer to boot up. I mostly wore jumpers and jeans while working on cases. On a few occasions I was forced into wearing more professional attire, but that was mostly only when I was supposed to meet Mycroft and had to run off in the middle of a case to meet with him. Once I got to the lock screen I pondered for a moment what Lestrade's password might be before I entered it. I was met by the login sound as the computer bypassed the lock. I would really have to tell Lestrade to come up with better passwords. He could at least give me a bit of a challenge.

I opened the web browser and entered in the url for a secure website. It brought me up to the site my friend from the States had set up which connected me to her set up. I opened the search function on the site and put in the parameters for London and pulled a search on businesses with those letters. There were three choices that came up as options. The first was for a restaurant, the next was for a company that rent out warehouse space, and the last was for a plumbers. I sat back in Lestrade's chair and stared at the screen as I played with the options. It could be a receipt from the restaurant but I rather doubted that our killer would have enough time to go out for a fancy dinner if he had a victim to torture and kill. Plumber was not likely an option but a warehouse rental was perfect. It would give him a place to keep his victims and torture them. Most likely it would be around a wharf. Loud noises in the area could easy mask any screaming. I grabbed my mobile and quickly rang the number listed for the company. I was finally getting somewhere. It took three days but I was getting closer to finding our killer.

I spoke quickly with the person who answered telling them that I was working with the police who were conducting a murder investigation and I needed to know if there was anyone who had started renting with them in the last few weeks. The man refused to give over the information until I told him that if he didn't another person was going to die. After that he told me what I needed to know. One man had rented a warehouse out by the wharf within the last three weeks. He had just come in to pay his weekly rent on the building three days ago which corresponded with the date of the last death and crime scene where he had dropped his receipt. I thanked the man and quickly wrote down the address to the warehouse that was being rented out and the name of the person renting it. I jumped out of my chair and ran out of Lestrade's office after exiting out of the site. I ran back out into the Yard and found Donovan and Anderson standing together and chatting about something that was definitely not important to the case.

"I need you to get a squad together," I told Donovan interrupting her and Anderson.

"What are you talking about freak?" Donovan snapped at me and I ignored the name as I continued on hurriedly.

"This address," I told her as I handed her the paper. "I'm heading there now. It's for a warehouse. That's where he's keeping them and killing them. Get a squad together and meet me down there. Call Lestrade. Get him back in here," I told Donovan before rushing of for the door of the office, not even bothering to look back. I hurried down the stairs and out onto the street.

Night was just starting to fall. I hailed a cab and told the cabbie to take me to the address for the warehouse. The killer most likely would be getting ready to go out and find a new victim. He would be setting up for when he got back or at least I hoped he would be. If I could find him at the warehouse and detain him long enough for Lestrade to get there than he could arrest him and this would all be over with. I had the cabbie drop me off a block away and then I walked the rest of the way to the warehouse. I shivered slightly as a cold wind blew off of the water. In my haste I had left my coat and my case bag back at the Yard. The only thing I had on me was my mobile. I found the warehouse and carefully walked along the outside before I found a side entrance. I slipped a bobby pin out of my hair and bent down carefully. I managed to pick the lock and I slid inside the warehouse quietly shutting the door behind me. The interior of the building was mostly dark save for a few flickering lights. The room was empty except for a chair which was surrounded with a rusty coloured dried liquid which could only be blood. There was a table covered in blood covered tools and I stepped carefully towards the table as I looked around the warehouse which seemed to be empty. I had found the place but not the killer. I carefully looked down at the tools spread over the table. Knives of various sizes, bloody chains, and a gun. All of the victims had been beaten, stabbed, and mutilated before being shot. This was proof that I was right.

"Hello poppet," I heard someone say suddenly behind me and I spun around quickly to be met with a tall leering man with yellowed teeth and a haggard appearance. He was grinning at me and I had only a moment to scream before I was hit on the side of the head as his fist connected with my skull and I blacked out.

I woke up with a pounding headache and I blinked my eyes open blearily. I was made instantly aware that I couldn't move my arms or my legs. I panicked slightly as my eyes flashed open fully and I struggled to move my limbs only to find that I was tied to a chair. I grunted as I rocked the chair with the force of my efforts and I cried out in surprise as I suddenly fell over onto my side as the chair came crash down to the floor. I groaned as my shoulder connected with the floor and I struggled to move and free myself. I stilled when I heard someone tutting and I froze in fear as I looked up to see boot clad feet coming towards me. I couldn't even begin to be disgusted that I was lying in a puddle of dried blood. I looked up and blinked as I looked into the gaunt face of my captor. He reached for me and I shrunk back from him which caused him to chuckle before he righted my chair. I glared at him as he stared down at me for a long moment before he drew up another chair and put it in front of me, turning it around before he sat down.

"My we are a feisty one aren't we?" The killer asked me and I spat at him in rage as he reached forward and rubbed his fingers over a lock of my hair which was widely hanging around my face. "Ooh hoo, she is a spit fire, aren't we dearie?" The man asked me as I glared back at him. "I was going out to find someone tonight, but you'll do beautifully. Now, what would a beautiful girl like you be doing way out here?" The killer asked me as I stared back at him. His face was ashen and his cheeks hallow as if he was sick. His teeth were all rotten and yellowed and his eyes looked slightly glassy.

"I work for Scotland Yard, They already know I'm here," I told the man steadily, hoping to scare him slightly.

"Oh, do they now?" The killer asked me and I nodded slowly. "Then why have you been here for two hours without anyone coming along?" The killer asked me and he chuckled when he saw my look of horror. Two hours! I had told Donovan and Anderson to call Lestrade and get a squad together and meet me here. They should have already been here. "Me thinks they don't actually know you're here," The killer said and I swallowed thickly. No one knew. They hadn't listened to me like always, not even when it was this important. I should have known. "So you are the one who's come close to finding me. He's told me about you."

"Who?" I asked him in confusion, hoping to keep him talking. Maybe they were just delayed. Surely Donovan and Anderson wouldn't leave me when they knew I was heading out to meet the killer.

"Shush, dearie. We're going to have a little fun first," The killer told me, his face morphing into a hideous grin as he stood up and moved his chair before he came back and loomed over me. "I think I'm rather going to enjoy this one."

The first hit to my face was brutal and snapped my head to the side. I was too shocked to cry out in pain. On the second hit I did cry out as it landed in my stomach. I gasped for air as the breath was knocked out of me. He continued to punch me until he left me bloody and bruised, my nose broken and the blood running down my face. I had stopped crying out in pain by the fifth hit and had just sat there glaring up at him as I took it. He would not break me. He left, saying we would take a short break and I sat in my chair struggling against my bonds. I had hope that Lestrade would come, that someone would find me, but I lost that hope as time went by. My mobile was no longer in my back pocket and the killer had most likely disposed of that which meant that any hope of Mycroft finding me was thrown out the window. The killer returned to the room to inflict more pain and I stared at him, my face void of any emotion.

"Who's told you about me?" I asked the killer thickly and he chuckled at me as he stalked up to me.

"Just a little fan of yours. Someone who's noticed you. I'm told you've already met," The killer told me before he turned to his table. "Hmm? What to use on you. Your face is just too pretty to mess up too much," He told me and I laughed bitterly.

"Well that's a relief," I said sarcastically and the killer chuckled at me again.

"And a sense of humor. No wonder he likes you," The killer told me as he turned around. "I think you are going to be the special one," The killer told me and I blinked back at him passively as the beating continued.

By the time he left me again I had several cracked ribs. I gasped for air, attempting to not puncture a lung as I did so. He had left me for the night and I finally allowed myself to show the pain on my face. I would not show it to him. He would not hear me cry in pain again. That was what he wanted and I refused to give it to him. I resigned myself to my fate, no longer hoping anyone would find me. It was painfully apparent to me that Anderson and Donovan had not called Lestrade. Sooner after I let the exhaustion and pain over take me and I fell asleep. For a few blissfully hours I was able to move past the pain. When I awoke it started all over again. I was shivering and felt nauseous as my body was wrecked with cold chills. I knew what it was. I was having withdrawals as my body craved the drug it needed. My entire body shook with the force of the tremors running through my body. My arms burned from being tied behind me for so long and my legs had long sense fallen asleep. I blinked in and out of consciousness as the killer came back to inflict more pain. His chuckle, his smile, were ingrained in my memory. He left me broken and bleeding again, my shoulder dislocated as I spit out blood. He hadn't cut me yet. He resorted to using his bare hands to beat me. My right leg was broken from the force of his well-aimed kick. By now I longed for death.

I woke up again to the felling of a sharp pain in my arm and I looked down to see a needle in my arm. "You should have said something dearie. Don't need you sick," The killer said with a laugh and I realized he had given me some sort of drug. "I want you nice an awake for this," The killer told me with a grin as I felt the drug hit my system. The pain in my body dulled as my arms and legs grew heavy. I blinked up at the killer who grinned as my eyes drooped slightly. "There we go dearie," The killer said before he started his torture all over again. This time my body could take more pain as the drug remained in my system. I was able to space out through some of it and escape to my mind. I entered the room in my mind where everything was safe and it was there that I stayed. I only left my mind when the effects of the drug started to wear off. I whimpered in pain and the killer paused and stayed his hand. He crossed over to the table and picked something up that I couldn't see before he crossed back over to me and injected me with the drug again.

I felt the rush of the drug again and my lips grew heavy as my eyes drooped. I flashed in and out of consciousness. Before long I frowned in confusion as my limbs felt like they were being weighed down by bricks and every breath I took was strained. I started to panic as I felt my pulse slow down. This wasn't right, something was wrong. The drug wasn't supposed to feel like this. I blinked as I tried to stay awake but I lost consciousness. I woke up to the sound of many voices, sounding angry and loud. I winced as light hit my eyes, bright light that didn't flicker like the light bulbs that had lit my prison.

"Hands in the air and step away from the woman!" I heard someone shout. It was a voice I knew, but I couldn't recall well. I passed out for a second before waking up just as quickly as I heard gunshots ringing out in the room. I screamed slightly as a body fell at my feet, the sound catching slightly in my throat as my voice cracked. I heard footsteps running towards me and I looked up, a face making its way into my vision which was blurry before it cleared slightly and I was met with the pale face of Lestrade. "Dear God," I heard him mutter in horror and I whimpered as I felt hands untying my arms behind me.

"Lestrade," I managed to whisper as my arms finally fell free. I would have moved them if I could. Lestrade bent down and started undoing my feet as another person came into view beside me. "Mycroft," I slurred as I saw the man. My eyes drooped and I woke up suddenly when I felt someone shaking me.

"Stay with me. Keep your eyes open," Lestrade directed me and I hummed slightly as my eyes wanted to close again.

"Did he give you anything?" Mycroft asked me calmly and I hummed again as my head lolled to the side towards the table as I tried to nod.

"Drug," I slurred before I blinked, trying to stay awake. "Too much," I muttered and Mycroft reached down quickly, his hands finding my pulse point.

"Her pulse is severely lowered," Mycroft said and Lestrade swore loudly.

"He's given her too much," Lestrade said before he called out to someone. He pulled me up and I cried out in pain and he swore again. "We need to move her. Now!" Lestrade told Mycroft and I felt him put another arm around my shoulders and he and Lestrade managed to haul me to my feet, holding me between the two of them. I let them half carry, half drag me along with them. I managed not to pass out again as we made it out of the warehouse and outside. I could tell from the darkness that it was night time, but I didn't know how long it had been. It felt like I had been in that warehouse for years. I heard voices and I had the strength to lift my head because I knew those people. Anderson and Donovan were in front of me and they each turned to look at me, stopping whatever pointless thing they were do which looked to be arguing with Mycroft's men.

"What happened to your face?" Anderson asked me and by shear will I managed to find the strength to do the impossible. Despite how weak I was, despite my broken leg and ribs and the bruises that covered nearly every inch of my body, I managed to shake off Mycroft and Lestrade and with a surge of adrenaline which blocked out all pain, I rushed forward before they could stop me and I punched Anderson right in the nose. I felt the bones in my left hand crack and despite the pain I grinned as I clutched my arm to my chest being careful not to jar my right shoulder which was still dislocated. I stood for a second before I collapsed and Lestrade caught me before I hit the ground as Anderson cried out in pain and covered his nose with his hands as it started bleeding. Lestrade readjusted me and walked past Anderson who was swearing loudly as Mycroft followed Lestrade over to the ambulance.

I was in and out of consciousness next. I remember bright lights and many voices, people telling me to keep my eyes open and not to sleep as I was loaded on a stretcher. Mycroft held my hand as we started moving and I spaced out vaguely aware that both Lestrade and Mycroft were with me in the back of an ambulance. I recalled the constant beeping which cut off before I woke up with a jolt and a cry of "Clear!" I fell back onto the stretcher and lost consciousness just after seeing Mycroft's ashen face, his eyes filled with panic. I woke up again to a bright white light and a constant beeping sound. I slowly fought my way to consciousness, a dull pain racking through my body, but not nearly as much as the last time I was awake. As I awoke I was able to realize that I had a cast on my leg, my chest was bound, my left hand was in a cast, and I was covered with tubes leading up to an IV. I groaned and I heard the swish of fabric and I was suddenly met with the faces of Mycroft and Lestrade.

"You're safe now," Mycroft told me as I blinked and took in the clean white hospital room I was in. I tried to sit up but Mycroft pushed me back down onto my pillows. "You mustn't move," He told me and I whined as I laid back down.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Lestrade asked me and Mycroft threw the D.I. a glare.

"Gregory," He warned as I nodded slightly before frowning as I felt the tape across my nose.

"I remember," I said thickly as both men turned back to me. "I was at the Yard. I figured out who the killer was and told Anderson and Donovan to call you and get a squad together before coming down. I left to go to the warehouse. I was going to head him off. Try and keep him busy until you got there. He surprised me, knocked me out. I woke up tied to the chair. I was there for hours waiting," I told Lestrade and he looked at Mycroft in concern.

"You've been missing for three days," Lestrade told me slowly and I blinked up at him in confusion. Days? Surly it had been hours if they had finally come to rescue me. Days? It took days before Anderson and Donovan said anything.

"You fell off our raider. When I couldn't find you I went to Gregory to ask where you were. He told me he hadn't seen you for two days," Mycroft told me and Lestrade nodded.

"Anderson and Donovan finally spoke up and told me you had run off after telling them something about a warehouse and getting a squad out there. When we finally realized where you were and what must have happened we got a whole team together," Lestrade told me and I blinked back at him in shock. "Do you remember anything else?"

"Drugs. He gave me some sort of drug," I told them and Mycroft looked at me and nodded.

"Heroine," Mycroft told me and I blinked at him as I tried to process that.

"I'll leave you," Lestrade said and I frowned in confusion not knowing why he would have to leave. He nodded at me once before he turned and left Mycroft and I. Mycroft was staring at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

"How long?" He asked me and I frowned deeper in my confusion.

"How long for what?" I asked him, shaking my head slightly.

"How long have you been using? Don't deny it. Your tox screens came back with both Heroine and Cocaine in your system," Mycroft told me as he looked down at me and I winced under his gaze.

"A few years," I told him honestly and he sighed. "I have it under control," I told him and he glared at me.

"Under control? Did you know you almost overdosed? You almost died, in fact your heart did stop for several seconds," Mycroft told me angrily which in turn made me angry. It was my life. I was fine and overdosing wasn't my fault.

"That wasn't my fault. I'm fine Mycroft. I have it under control!" I shouted back at him and he snorted.

"You only think you do. As soon as you are fit to be released from this hospital you are being taken to rehab," Mycroft told me and I glared at him in anger.

"No, I won't be," I told him, my voice dangerous now.

"I will not see you waste your life on this drug habit," Mycroft shouted at me and that was the last straw.

"Why would you care!? It isn't your life! You know nothing about what I've been through! It's my life and I'll do whatever the bloody hell I want!" I shouted back at Mycroft and he glared at me murderously.

"I will not stand idly by and watch you throw away your life! The mind is a precious thing and yours is too valuable to waste. You will be going to rehab and I'll not hear another word against it," Mycroft shouted back at me and I glared back at him, wishing I could move so I could deck him. "Now, I will call your doctor and tell him you are awake," Mycroft told me shortly before he turned and left the room. I shouted profanities after him in various languages before I laid back on my pillows in anger.

In the end, I did go to rehab against my will after three weeks in the hospital. My injuries healed and I got clean, but the scars would never heal. I never went back to the Yard after that case. Every time I thought about cases, about catching killers, I would remember his face, the way he smiled as he hit me, his chuckle as I whimpered in pain. I nearly relapsed several times during those four years but I stayed strong for the simple fact that one man believed that I could do something greater with my life. It would take four years and meeting a certain consulting detective and army doctor for those scars to heal. In one night they managed to fill the gap in my heart and those old wounds finally closed. It would take the heart of that consulting detective to make me forget all the pain of my past and for once, I started living again.


	29. The Rat Race

**(A/N) What is this? Another chapter? It has come to my attention that you are all waiting for the Blind Banker and I am too so I will be powering through this case so we can actually get to that. So good news for you, another chapter on Sunday, then again next Wednesday, followed by our normal updates every Sunday. This is for my wonderful Watson. *goes and hides* Read and enjoy!- Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Seven- The Rat Race<strong>

**"In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex."  
>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>A Scandal in Bohemia<em>**

**Third Person POV**

John Watson hurried out of the cab with Sherlock Holmes, throwing the bills in the direction of the cabbie as the detective and the army doctor stormed into Scotland Yard. They took the stairs two even three at a time as they marched up to Lestrade's division with determined grimaces on their faces. Donovan made to tell them off or stop them, Sherlock really didn't care which, both were a waste of his time, but one glare at her from John sent her skittering away from the both of them. John was in full army mode and the detective looked no less imposing beside the shorter man. They strode into Lestrade's office without even knocking, surprising the man as they stood there, chests heaving from their recent exertion or from anger, Lestrade couldn't tell which. Lestrade straightened up in his chair, looking at John and Sherlock and instantly he could tell that something was wrong with the way they were acting. They looked as if they had practically run all the way there and technically they had. Lestrade was confused to just see the detective and the army doctor and he was waiting for Lexi to come walking through the door at any second to tell the boys off for leaving her behind. When she didn't Lestrade's face instantly paled.

"What happened?" Lestrade asked the detective and army doctor worriedly. There was only one thing that Lestrade could think of that would get Sherlock to even react like he was. The man looked as if he was ready to face a battle, one where he would gladly cut down anything in his path. Lestrade noted than both men looked like they were on a mission.

"Lexi," Was the only thing Sherlock said as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Lestrade swore under his breath. That one word held so much emotion in Sherlock's voice that Lestrade was surprised. He had never seen the man like he was right there before him. For once, Sherlock Holmes seemed slightly human.

"I'm going to need slightly more than that," Lestrade told them carefully knowing that Sherlock and John were already in bad enough moods as it was and he really didn't want to have to deal with either of them right now. His main concern was finding out what happened to Lexi.

"She fell off my brother's grid over an hour ago. John finally managed to get through to her. She told him Vatican Cameos," Sherlock said and Lestrade normally would have made a comment about how he wasn't stupid and Sherlock didn't have to talk to him like he was. Right now though he was willing to just sigh in exasperation and carry on trying to actually get information out of one of them.

"Vatican Cameos?" He asked them to clarify and John was the one to answer him.

"It's her duress code. She told me Vatican Cameos, definitely Vatican Cameos. She also said she would be home soon but the traffic was killer. Sherlock checked, there is no traffic anywhere in the city right now," John explained calming himself slightly. He couldn't help but be worried for Lexi, she was still in her cast and wherever she was she was in danger and they had no clue at all how to help her. Mycroft alerted them that she has disappeared off of his grid completely and the last place she had been seen was in a cab before the cameras lost her. For all they knew, they could already be too late.

"So that means…," Lestrade said before Sherlock cut him off with an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why out of all the times did Lestrade have to choose now to be so completely slow with the uptake? It was blindingly obvious what her message had meant.

"She is in danger and with the killer," Sherlock snapped at him and Lestrade held his hands up in surrender. "John tried to ring back but her phone was turned off so we can't track her that way," Sherlock told him as Lestrade got up from his seat and looked at the men.

"Then what do you need from me? I can't track her with her phone off either, she could be anywhere," Lestrade told them feeling less that useless. He couldn't find her in time, not if her phone was off. London was a large city and she could be anywhere.

"You've known her longer than we have. Before she disappeared she called me, said she had figured out the case. Where would she go? If we can figure out where she might have went Sherlock might be able to find out where she is," John told Lestrade, shuffling on his feet, his hands still clenched tight in his anxiety over Lexi's wellbeing.

"I don't know how she works. I've known her for seven years yeah, but she's never the same from day to day," Lestrade told them and Sherlock made a scoffing sound. "Look," Lestrade said getting irritated. It wasn't like he knew everything about her for bloody sakes. She didn't talk much about herself. "The only thing I can think of is that if she figured it out she would have went to confront the killer herself. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it and certainly wouldn't be the last. She was in her office looking over some files before she left here about two hours ago. She told me she was heading back to Baker Street," Lestrade told them as he led them out of his office and into Lexi's which Lestrade kept there for her as incentive for her to come back.

Sherlock immediately went over to her desk and started riffling through all of the papers she had on it trying to find something that would tell him what she had discovered and where she had went. He needed to think. What did she pick up on? He was right in thinking that they both deduced differently. She saw the connections amongst people, he saw the connections between the facts. It was why they worked well solving cases together, except he hadn't worked on this case with her. So, what connection had she found this time? Sherlock was actually regretting arguing with her back at the flat. It was why she had left to go to the Yard in the first place and why she had decided to go after the killer alone. It's why she had worked this case alone if Sherlock really had to admit fault. Sherlock was bad at all of this friend stuff. He knew that Lexi considered him a friend, but he wasn't sure what she was to him yet. She was certainly something. He would be lying if he said that he hadn't woken up a little bit in the middle of the night and smiled when he saw her snuggled up to him. He had been happy and then confused. There was a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite understand. It was like a monster clawing at him to get out. The monster had awoken with a new intensity as soon as he found out that Lexi was possibly in danger. Her call to John had left him numb as soon as John said those two words. He had to stop thinking about her, but that was impossible because this was all about her. He needed his Mind Palace for this

'_Not now, I'm busy,'_ Sherlock snapped at the Lexi in his Mind Palace. As soon as he had entered it she had been there as if she was waiting for him. The room he had created for her looked exactly like the living room of 221B. She was sitting, sprawled out in Sherlock's chair in the manner she normally did just to annoy him. She sat up straighter and smiled at him in that way that made the monster in him react.

'_Come on Lock, you know me better than anyone. I actually talk to you,'_ Lexi told him as she giggled at him. She was wearing what she had been that night, his purple shirt and her cotton shorts and her hair was down, falling in tight curls around her. She sat up properly and gave him that look with the slight smirk on her face that he often caught her giving him. _'Now, where would I go? How would I have solved the case?' _Lexi asked him and Sherlock put his hands up to his head, pulling at his curls.

'_I don't know,'_ Sherlock growled out as Lexi got up and crossed over to him, staring up at him with that little grin on her face as she reached up and took his hands out of his hair, stilling their movements. He let himself be lead as the Irish girl held his hands in hers.

'_Of course you know. Don't pretend you're not enjoying this,'_ Lexi told him with a grin as she stepped away from the detective and picked up her viola, playing that tune that he had only heard once. **(A/N Sherlock's theme/ The Game Is On)** Lexi looked back at Sherlock as he frowned.

'_Enjoying what?'_ Sherlock asked Lexi in confusion as she finished her song with a flourish, putting her viola down again as she crossed back over to him and leaned in so close he could smell the lavender drifting off of her skin.

'_Being Sherlock Holmes,'_ Lexi whispered into his ear before stepping back and giggling.

'_Well…what's that supposed to mean?'_ Sherlock snapped at her. He didn't like feeling confused and he was confused a lot around Lexi.

'_Being clever, showing off. You love it, especially in front of me,'_ Lexi told him her face going from flirty to serious. '_Focus Lock. Don't solve the case, save the life. Where would I go?_' Lexi asked him again and Sherlock stared at her intensely as he tried to think of every way she could have solved the case.

'_You were looking through the case files. Something you found there made you realize who the killer was,'_ Sherlock started as Lexi nodded at him in encouragement. He raised his hands to his temples as he tried to think. Where? Where?!

'_Where would she look Sherlock?'_ Mycroft said as he walked into the room that was meant only for Lexi. Sherlock spun around and stared at Mycroft murderously. He wasn't supposed to be here.

'_Piss off Mycroft!'_ Sherlock growled at his brother who stared back at him with that little smirk that only infuriated Sherlock more.

'_Ah ah, language brother mine. So nice to see you displaying such sentiment. Now, where would she look?' _Mycroft asked his brother again as he picked up his umbrella and looked at the end of it before putting it back on the floor and walking around Sherlock to stand by Lexi who was watching him with that look on her face again that Sherlock could never tell what she was thinking.

'_Sentiment,'_ Sherlock muttered to himself and Lexi beamed at him and he realized that he had figured it out. He pulled out of his Mind Palace and looked down at the paper he had in his hand, his eyes immediately flying up to the emergency contact information on the hospital record. "Oh," he said aloud as he came to the same conclusion Lexi had.

"What, what is it?" John asked Sherlock worriedly as Sherlock threw the paper down on the floor and turned around, striding out of the office and through the division. "Sherlock!" John called after him and the detective stopped and looked back at the army doctor.

"I know where she is," Sherlock told him and Lestrade immediately called for everyone on duty to get ready to go out. They snapped to attention and skittered around as Lestrade and John followed after the consulting detective who had such determination on his face that neither man really wanted to ask him what he had found out.

**Lexi's POV**

I stood straight as I stared down the barrel of the loaded gun. I had gotten the message to John. Now, all I could do was hope that John would remember what Vatican Cameos meant and would tell Sherlock. I knew that he could figure out the case like I had. I trusted Sherlock beyond anyone else, even more than Mycroft. He could do this. Don't solve the case, save the life. I was counting on Sherlock Holmes to save mine.

**Two Days Earlier…**

I woke up with the smell of mint, chemicals, and something else under my nose. I took in a deep breath and burrowed myself into my pillow, grinning sleepily. It was then that I noticed the warmth coming from beside me and the fact that there was a hand wrapped around my waist. I frowned, still not opening my eyes yet as my other sense kicked in and I heard the slow steady heart beat under my ear. I heard someone clear their throat and I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was dark curls and then a set of blue grey eyes bursting with green and gold open at the same time as mine did. I squeaked in surprise as I realized that my pillow was actually Sherlock and that I had had my face buried in the crook of his neck. I attempted to get up, and that ended up with another cry of surprise escaping me as I found myself falling backwards before landing with a loud thump on the floor. I stayed down before sitting up on my elbows and looking over at where the noise that had finally alerted me to someone's presence came from and I found John standing in the door way to the living room fully dressed as he stared at the two of us. I quickly bolted up right and waved nervously at John as he looked from me on the floor to Sherlock. I snuck a peek at the consulting detective and found that he was looking up at me with his eyebrows furrowed. I felt put on the spot and I didn't like it.

"Ah, morning John," I told the army doctor as I stepped away from the couch and from Sherlock, trying to act nonchalant. John's eyebrow only raised higher into his hairline as I moved around him and went into the kitchen to make tea, wanting something to do with my hands. I heard a door close somewhere in the flat and I turned around to look back in the living room to find John standing where he had been but Sherlock now gone from the couch. How had he passed me without me noticing?

"So, you two?" John asked me as he gestured to me and then back to where Sherlock's bedroom was. I shook my head quickly, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"No, no," I stammered as I looked back at the army doctor who looked as confused as I felt. "No, were not. I mean… we just fell asleep on the couch. We're definitely not…," I managed to get out, stumbling over my words as I tried to correct John.

"I understand," John said holding his hand up to stop me. I turned back to the kettle and shut it off making myself a cup of tea, hoping that might calm me down. The look that Sherlock had given me was something I couldn't get out of my head. I had no clue at all what it meant and that was bad. I didn't know what the rules were, but waking up next to your female flatmate who is snuggled up against you, even if you are holding her too, is not good. In fact it was very not good and I knew that some boundary had been crossed. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, it just sort of happened. "I just wondered. So you don't fancy him?" John asked me suddenly and I dropped my cup of tea, cursing as I managed to jump back in just enough time that the hot liquid missed me as the cup smashed and my tea spilled all over the floor. "Lexi, are you alright?" John asked me moving over to make sure I hadn't burnt myself.

"I'm fine John," I told him as I bent down and picked up the broken piece of ceramic and chucked them into the bin. I grabbed a tea towel and mopped up the spilled tea before chucking the rag into the sink to deal with later. "No, I don't fancy Sherlock. That wasn't supposed to happen," I told the army doctor as I sighed and shook my head, bracing myself against the counter. "Could we just not talk about it?" I asked John, looking over at him and he nodded at me and I sent him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'm just going to…," I told him, gesturing back to my room. He nodded at me again and I scampered away to the relative safety of my room, shutting my door behind me, but not before I looked over at Sherlock's bedroom door which was shut. I didn't hear a single sound coming from within which I didn't know to feel relieved about or worried.

I walked over to my drawers and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and then a kami and an oversized jumper I had in the back of my closet. I crept back out into the hall, hearing John bustling about in the kitchen as I slipped into the bathroom and quickly locked the door behind me. I got ready for my shower, needing the hot water to work out the knots in my back from sleeping for so long on the couch. I was instantly aware of the fact that showering was going to be fun once again with the cast and I therefore took my time, letting the scalding water wash over me. I cleaned my hair and body before stepping back into the spray and washing off all of the soap as I tried not to think about having to face Sherlock at some point. I knew if it had been John instead of Sherlock we could have just laughed it off, but Sherlock wasn't like that. He and I had been closer of late while working on case, but this, this was something entirely too intimate. It hadn't helped that we had our arms wrapped around each other either. That was a definite no for Sherlock.

I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off, pulling my clothes on quickly before I tried to get as much water out of my hair as was possible. I stepped out of the bathroom apprehensively and quickly tossed my clothes in my hamper before slowly making my way back to the living room. I froze in the doorway as I caught sight of a now completely dressed Sherlock sitting in his chair, his face relaxed and his hands folded, obviously in his Mind Palace. Someone tapped on my shoulder and I jumped before turning and looking at John sheepishly as he handed me a new mug of tea wordlessly. He seemed to understand that I didn't want to talk right now which I was thankful for. I brought my tea over to the couch, picking up my copy of Pride and Prejudice on the way over, slightly adamant as I had to pass by the consulting detective. He didn't stir as I walked close to him and sat down at the end of the couch, curling into a ball and hugging my mug of tea to my chest as I tried to distract myself with my book. It wasn't exactly working however as my eyes kept snapping up to Sherlock or occasionally to John who was sitting in his chair on his laptop slowly typing. Every so often I caught him looking my way, but I tried to brush that off. The three of us stayed in this routine for over an hour before Sherlock came out of his Mind Palace. He looked over at me once and I was afraid to meet his eyes as he got up and walked over to his desk before he sat down at his laptop. After that, I made it look like I was reading by turning the page every few minutes. In truth, I couldn't stop stealing looks at the detective. He never once looked my way again.

The silence in the flat was only broken by the sound of the doorbell ringing downstairs. "Shut up!" Sherlock yelled in direction of the door before turning back to his laptop and continuing with whatever he was doing. I put my book down, not even bothering to mark my place since I really hadn't been reading it anyway.

"You expecting someone?" John asked us as we heard Mrs. Hudson hurrying to answer the door. I heard the sound of voices downstairs as Mrs. Hudson let whoever had been at the door inside. I could distinctly hear Mrs. Hudson and the lower more undistinguishable voice of a man.

"Am I ever?" Sherlock asked him snappishly. I looked over at him, my eyes connecting with his as he suddenly looked my way. I quickly snapped my head towards the door just as the sound of footsteps reached my ears. I noticed the sound of a tap on every other stair. "Heavy set man, came here, but not in a hurry, not a client, but he came here for business, carrying an umbrella…Mycroft" Sherlock deduced, frowning as he made the last deduction. He turned his head around to face the door just as Mycroft walked in.

"Well aren't we cosy?" Mycroft asked us as he stopped in the door way and took in the three of us in our respective seats. "Brother of mine," Mycroft greeted Sherlock with a nod. "Ah Dr. Watson," Mycroft said as he twirled his umbrella before walking over to Sherlock's chair and sitting in it so he was facing Sherlock. "Lexi," Mycroft greeted me and I looked up at him with a little grin on my face. I never needed Mycroft as much as I had needed him in that moment.

"My," I said as I got up and bounded over to him, leaning in and giving him a hug as he stiffened under me. I pulled back and saw his frown, but that didn't stop me from pressing a kiss to his cheek. I knew he was frowning because of my use of his other nickname. I only called him My on certain occasions when I was feeling overemotional. I grinned at the now very disgruntled man before I sat down at his feet grinning up at him impishly.

"What do you want?" Sherlock snapped at his brother, ignoring my display of affection for his brother. Actually his eyes were slightly narrowed as he looked down at where I was sitting with my back resting up against Mycroft's knees. It wouldn't be the first time I had done it.

I did actually spend a lot of time with Mycroft, less when he had a lot of meetings and now that I was working again, but I had practically lived with him at his flat since I came over enough. The Mycroft Holmes he presented at work or out in the public was a lot different than the Mycroft Holmes behind closed doors. I had spent birthdays and holidays with this man and he had even taken me to Italy on holiday once. I had always wanted a sibling and Mycroft was my psudobrother. I had joked once that he could just adopt me as his sister and make it official. Lexi Holmes had a rather nice ring to it. Mycroft had been there for me during the worse part of my life. He never gave up on me and he had no reason to even help me but he did and I would always be grateful towards him for that. When I was sick with the flu two years ago, Mycroft had been the one to take care of me. He had taken two weeks off letting the country be run by someone else as he played nurse to me. Mycroft was a good man, as much as Sherlock could fault him, he still was a lot different than everyone thought. The way we act around others is not always how we act alone or behind closed doors. I could understand the burden that Mycroft felt. As the older brother he felt like it was his duty to watch out for Sherlock and to act like a parent towards him. His protectiveness of his brother had been seen as overbearingness however which had sparked the feud between them in the first place. It pained me to see brothers so torn apart like they were. Family…family should love each other, not fight.

Mycroft smirked back at his brother before he looked down at me, the famous Mycroft Holmes frown replacing his smirk. I could read him so well though that I could see the affection in his eyes. As much as Mycroft seemed cold hearted, he actually did care about me. I wouldn't say loved, that was too much of an emotion for him, but we had a mutual affection for each other and we were comfortable with that. There were some things I knew about Mycroft Holmes that I was sure even Sherlock didn't know. One was that Anthea was Mycroft's closest friend besides me. Anthea was like Mycroft's John, his comrade in arms and they certainly got up to enough of their own trouble together only theirs was of the political kind. Anthea also had problems with her short term memory which was why she had issues remembering people's names. She would often choose a new name for herself upon meeting someone knew. Only Mycroft and I knew her actual name. When I had first met her, she told me her name was Thalia. Second, Mycroft actually suffered from a mild case of chronic fatigue which meant that he had to walk with some assistance. He was diagnosed just after I got out of rehab and refused to walk with a cane. When he left his umbrella behind on in my flat on a rainy day I had tinkered with it until I had modified it to be both a weapon and more sturdy. I had given it to Mycroft to use instead of a cane and he had instantly taken to the idea.

"I have a case for you," Mycroft said, ignoring the look that Sherlock sent his way as he continued. "An influential group of investors requires some aid and I recommended your services," Mycroft said, looking down at me.

"Not interested," Sherlock snapped at Mycroft and I sighed at the hostility between the two of them. John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure if he should step in or not.

"I wasn't talking to you," Mycroft told Sherlock tersely before he looked back down at me ignoring Sherlock's death glare. If looks could kill I would have seriously been concerned for Mycroft's safety. "Will you take the case?" Mycroft asked me and I pondered it for a second. Mycroft rarely asked for me to take a case for him and usually when he did it was important. If I took the case it would give me more time to avoid Sherlock which I was grateful for.

"Yes, where do I need to go?" I asked Mycroft as I got to my feet as Mycroft in turn stood up from Sherlock's chair. He helped me up, being careful of my hand. His eyes scrutinized my cast, especially the doctor's signature and phone number which I had almost completely forgotten was there. Well, he would probably lose his licence to practice now. Coming on to the patients didn't seem like a professional thing to do and I knew that Mycroft wouldn't just let it go.

"Canon Ebersole. I've already taken the liberty and called ahead to tell them that you would be by within the hour," Mycroft told me and I nodded before he continued. "Anthea will wait for you in the car downstairs. I must be off. Important work to do, you understand," Mycroft told me and I shook my head at him rolling my eyes fondly.

"Meeting with the Ambassador of France? Do tell dear old Dad I said hi," I joked and Mycroft grimaced at the reference. I giggled and showed him over to the door. "Let Anthea know I'll be down in a second, just have to change," I told Mycroft before we parted ways. I stopped in the living room, staring back at Sherlock and John who were both looking at me. "So, are you going to come?" I asked Sherlock hesitantly. I wouldn't stop him if he wanted to.

"And do my brothers dirty work? No, I'm sure your skills will be more than adequate," Sherlock told me coldly before turning back to his computer. I flinched at the sharpness of his tone and his biting comment trying and slightly failing to not let his words get to me. He was in a bad mood today and he really honestly didn't mean what he was saying, at least that was what I tried to tell myself.

"John?" I asked the army doctor turning to look at him. He was looking back at Sherlock, glaring at him more like, but as soon as I called his name his head snapped over towards me.

"Yeah, let me just go and change into something else," John told me, getting up from his chair. I sighed in relief before going back to my room. I pulled on a tweed dress with a neck line that reached my throat. The dress came down to the top of my knees and I paired it with a pair of black Oxford heels. I left my hair down and grabbed a small purse from my closet, throwing my wallet and phone into it as well as a small notepad and pen before I left my room. John was already waiting for me at the door dressed in a suit, one he didn't look comfortable wearing. I knew he was doing this for me even though he would rather stay at home. John helped me into my coat and I buttoned it one handedly before looking back over at the consulting detective.

"We're headed out, call me if you need anything," I told Sherlock pausing at the door while John headed down to meet Anthea at the car. Sherlock looked up at me with a glare and I managed to keep my face passive.

"Why would I need you?" Sherlock snapped at me and I sighed heavily knowing that this was one of the days where even trying to talk to Sherlock would only end with getting your head chewed off.

"No reason at all," I told him before turning around and heading off down the stairs. I warned Mrs. Hudson that Sherlock was in a bad mood and that she should probably just leave him be before I joined John out on the sidewalk where the car was waiting. John opened the door for me and I slid into the back beside Anthea before John got in next to me and shut the door. As soon as we were all in the driver pulled out onto the street, taking us to Canon Ebersole. "Hello Anthea," I said to the woman on her phone beside me, plastering a smile on my face as I tried to forget Sherlock.

"Hello Lexi," Anthea said, looking up from her phone and beaming at me. She looked over at John and her expression turned vacant as I knew she was trying to remember him, but couldn't. I rubbed her arm consolingly.

"I'm John, we've meet before," John supplied as soon as he noticed her blank expression.

"Mmm I know," Anthea said to cover up her situation. I patted her arm before she went back to her phone. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, hoping to just ride in silence until we got to Canon Ebersole.

"What happened, after I came down stairs? Between you and Sherlock that is," John asked me breaking the silence in the car. I sighed heavily, opening my eyes to look back at the army doctor. I knew he wanted to help and talking about it would help me or at least that was what I was telling myself.

"We had a little row, I guess you could call it that," I told John and he gritted his teeth together his hand clenching in anger. "No, John, it's alright. Sherlock, is well… I think he's angry with me or upset because of what happened. That's okay though. I don't blame him. It shouldn't have happened…," I said before John cut me off midsentence.

"And he should been angry with you. Not after all you've done for him and put up with. So what you fell asleep on the couch together. It happens," John bit out before I held up my hand for him to stop. First of all, even though Anthea looked like she was invested in her phone she was actually listening sometimes. I didn't feel like having Mycroft find out I had slept with his brother on the couch. Yes, nothing had happened because it was never going to, but that didn't mean that Mycroft would like it any more.

"It doesn't happen to Sherlock. He has every right to be upset with me. I knew John," I told the army doctor shaking my head dolefully. "I knew about his aversion to human contact. The fact that he even let me sit next to him was stressful enough for him and then I went and pushed it further by leaning against him after you left. Sleeping next to him was the final straw. I've been trying to get him more used to human contact like I did Mycroft, but Sherlock isn't Mycroft. Mycroft deals with things much differently than Sherlock. Sherlock deals with it by lashing out. It's my own fault," I told John and he shook his head quickly at this.

"No, it's his fault for being the world's biggest prat," John told me and I sighed heavily again, knowing that I wasn't going to be able to say anything to change his mind. I would figure out a way to apologize to Sherlock later. I had pushed my boundaries. I kept forgetting that no matter how Mycroft and Sherlock were alike, Sherlock wasn't his brother.

"Look John, just forget about it for now okay. I'm grateful you came along," I told John honestly. While part of me had wanted to just do this on my own, I felt better having John with me. I was getting used to being a team and not just having to work cases by myself.

"Of course I came. I wasn't going to let you go by yourself. We have to watch out for each other," John told me and I beamed back at the army doctor giving him a hug in the small space of the back seat before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You are amazing John, don't ever forget that," I told him and he looked back at me his cheeks tingeing slightly pink at the compliment and kiss. See, I knew how far I could go with John. I treated him like a sister would. With Sherlock it was so difficult to know how to act around him.

"Um, thanks…," John said gruffly before clearing his throat and nodding his head. "Thanks for that," John finished as the car pulled up at Canon Ebersole. John was the first to get out and he held the door open for me as I looked back at Anthea.

"Did you tell Mycroft about what you heard?" I asked her worriedly as she actually put down her phone to look at me. She shook her head and grinned at me.

"No, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I never tell him anything that you wouldn't want him to know," Anthea told me and I grinned back at her before hugging the woman who was like family to me now. We had that shared bond of taking care of the Holmes boys.

"You are a saint!" I told Anthea as we broke our hug and I collected my purse. "Give my love to Mycroft," I told her and she assured me that she would before I stepped out of the car. John closed the car door behind me and Mycroft's car pulled off, leaving us on the curb. "I loathe bankers," I said turning to John who was looking up at the very grand looking office building in front of us. "They rig the roulette wheel of commerce, very nearly destroy the world economy, and they still think if they wear suits they'll be treated like respectable folk instead of the crooks that they are."

"I would hate to hear what you say about other professions," John remarked shaking his head at me exasperatedly as we walked up the steps in front of the building to the entrance.

"Oh, don't worry. I have the highest respect for doctors," I assured him with a grin as he opened the door for me and we walked inside the office building. We met the woman at the reception desk and as soon as I told her my name she told us to follow her. She led us upstairs to the top floor of the office building, telling us that they were waiting for us inside of the conference room. She showed us in and everyone stood as we walked into the room. "Oh, do sit down. I don't like to stand on formalities. Not really my area," I told them all, dropping into my Irish accent. They all looked back at me as if they were wondering why Mycroft had referred them to me of all people. I took a seat at the only chair left at the end of the long table and John sat slightly behind me in a chair by the window as all of the important-looking people sat down again.

"Alright, now that you're here we'll get started," The man at the end of the table said as he remained standing. He was wearing an expensive suit, not as expensive as Mycroft's but close. His hair was black but greying and it looked like he had had one, no two, facelifts within the last two years. "My name's Jim Fowkes. I'm the chief investment officer. This is Daniel Cho, our chief financial officer and other in house board member," The man, Fowkes, introduced himself before introducing the man sitting to his right. I sent a customary glace his way, but I wasn't too interested in him. I wanted to know why I was here.

"Yep, you're all chief of something. What do you want?" I asked them, crossing my legs at the knee and putting my folded hands on top of them as I sat up straight in my seat. I caught John rolling his eyes and shaking his head slightly in exasperation from the corner of my eye.

"Can we get you to sign these confidentiality papers?" Fowkes asked me as the papers were slid down to the end of the table to us. I picked them up and read them over carefully. Just the typical agreement. We kept our mouths shut about anything they told us and if we went to the media with anything we found out or told anyone else than they could sue us. It was all rather straight forward. "Pen," I said and the man sitting closest to me pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. I put the papers on the desk and signed them quickly before handing the pen and John's paper to him. He quickly signed it before handing it back to me. I slid the signed papers down the table and handed the man back his pen before gesturing for Fowkes to continue. "This is our COO, Peter Talbott," Fowkes told me as a woman handed me over a brochure. I looked over it, before looking up at the picture of Talbott on the screen behind Fowkes. "Every quarter, he fields a conference call with our institutional investors. These people control huge pension funds. As far as they're concerned, Peter is the voice of the company. This quarter's call was supposed to happen yesterday. We had to reschedule because Peter didn't show up. Nobody has any idea where he is."

"And if you don't get this call back on the books soon, people will start to whisper," I said as I closed the brochure and slapped it back on the table. This was your typical dime a dozen case and certainly not worth my time looking into. The only reason I was still listening was because working this case would mean that I spent little time in the flat around Sherlock. Leaving him alone was the best thing I could do right now.

"When these people whisper, Ms. MacKenna, millions of dollars disappear. We can't go to the normal police about this matter as it is too sensitive for them to handle. Mycroft Holmes suggested that we take this matter to someone who worked outside of the police. He said that you were the finest investigator he'd ever known," Fowkes told me and I honestly felt shocked by this. I would have thought that Mycroft would say his brother was the finest investigator. Then again they did fight and Mycroft had taught me most of what he knew. I was touched that Mycroft thought so highly of my skills. Sometimes I felt they were lacking, especially when I was around Mycroft or Sherlock. "We'd like to hire you and your, ah… associate," Fowkes told me looking over at John questioningly.

"He's my bodyguard," I told Fowkes as John threw me another look only this one looked more proud than anything else because I actually trusted him with my life. I did actually. I trusted John completely. He already saved my life once. We solved the murders, but John saved the lives. "I'm sure you can imagine that my line of business is dangerous," I continued and Fowkes nodded at me in understanding. "Well, luckily for you, Mr. Fowkes, I have a hole in my schedule. My usual private consulting rates will apply, of course, multiplied by a factor of twelve, shall we say?" I asked Fowkes as all of the chief important people glanced at each other and started muttering amongst themselves. "Of course, now you're wondering if I'm even worth it. Well, I can provide a demonstration, if you'd like. For example, these two are sleeping with each other," I told Fawkes as I pointed to two of the people sitting at the table who shifted uncomfortably. "You really should be more careful of your body language. You lean in toward each other. Now normal colleagues wouldn't get that intimate with each other, practically sharing the same personal space, more than colleagues would," I told them instantly regretting what I said. More than colleagues would. I had shared a lot more personal space with Sherlock than they were. "And you," I said pointing out a man at the table trying to draw away from the subject I was currently on. "You have, for some reason, recently used a solvent to remove fingernail polish from your hands," I finished before flicking my gaze over toward John where I caught him guarding a smile.

"Twelve times your usual rate will be just fine," Fawkes told me cutting me off before I could continue. I was just getting started too. At least two of the men and one of the women at the table were having an affair. The woman with one of the men actually and at least one of the men was gay and had a crush on Fawkes if the way he was looking at him was any indication.

"I will need access to Peter Talbott's office. His computer as well," I told Fawkes with a slight grin on my face. It was nice being able to make my deductions and slightly nice not having to listen to Sherlock complain. By now he would have already made some comment to piss everyone off. Working alone on this case without Sherlock's help would actually be a good thing for me. It meant I couldn't rely on him. Besides, I didn't need him, I had John.

"My secretary will be happy to take you down there right now," Fawkes assured me and I nodded at him before standing up, John standing and joining me as Fawkes called in his secretary. She was short with greying blonde hair pulled into a tight bun and she wore a pencil skirt and a designer blazer with her expensive heels. For a secretary, she was doing pretty well for herself. She led us up to Talbott's office and I immediately looked around the room as John inspected the bookshelf.

"Cute couple," John remarked as he pointed out a picture of Talbott and a woman on the bookshelf.

"Everyone here calls Peter and Alyssa, Taylor and Burton. You know, after the movie stars," The secretary told us as I looked back over my shoulder, taking a spin as I looked around the room.

"Fascinating," I told her with hidden sarcasm. John gave me the look which meant I was being rude and to stop it. I sighed heavily as I continued on with my work. The secretary obviously realized she wasn't needed anymore.

"I'll be outside if you need me," She told us before stepping out of the room.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so happy, back in the conference room. Mastering the masters of the universe," John remarked as I looked over Talbott's desk. He was organized, at least you could say that about him.

"Bit of a let-down, actually. I think I could've got twenty times my normal rate," I told John with a frown as I straightened up again. If had I had played them a little bit more I could have gotten a lot more out of them than I had.

"What is your normal rate?" John asked me curiously and I looked over at him with a grin on my face.

"Oh, I don't have one. Remind me to make one up before I leave," I told him as I crossed the room and turned to look at the bookshelf. "Typical. Every stuffed shirt who wants to pass for erudite has shelves full of unread books. Mycroft has them in his office too and he hasn't ever read a single one. Now, if you'll notice none of the spines on these have ever been cracked. Except for this one," I instructed John as I pulled a book off of the shelf. "Notice the difference in the blinding," I told John as I showed it to him. I felt the need to educate him with my deductions. I would make a detective out of him yet. I opened the front cover of the book. "Apparently Mr. Talbott consults this book all the time," I said as I pulled a smaller black book from inside the front cover. John frowned as I set down the outer book before riffling through the first pages of the black book. "Ah. I've never been a fan of John Maynard Keyenes, but this isn't my cup of tea either," I remarked as John walked over and stood next to me as I flipped through the pages, each with the picture of a prostitute on it.

"I don't understand, what is that?" John asked me pointing to the book and I grinned at the army doctor.

"See something you like?" I teased him and he blushed and spluttered at me. "I'm only teasing you John," I told him with a giggle before I got serious again. "It's a menu. Each of these girls is available for a price. See the ring symbols at the bottom? I assume that the more rings, the more expensive the prostitute," I told John as I handed the book to him before I strode across the room to Talbott's desk.

"Almost all of these pages are turned down," John told me as he riffled through the pages more. I looked up at him as I settled myself into Talbott's chair in front of his computer.

"The more pricey girls were most likely his favourites. But you can't just tell the IRS that you spend six figures a year on call girls," I told John as I shook the mouse to wake the computer up. I started clicking through Talbott's things looking for something in particular. "No, you would have to be clever and hide the expense. So…," I told him as I pulled up Talbott's organizer. "Let's see, calendar, contacts…," I muttered as I clicked through his contacts. "Ah brilliant, here we go," I told John as he looked up at me and came over to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder. "You see?" I asked John as I pointed out his only two contacts listed in his organizer. "Talbott has contact addresses for two separate accountants. This one is for a rep for DDB, that's big five firm, nothing untoward there, probably handled the family books. But this one is an independent accountant by the name of Martin Rydell. Handled something Peter calls his executive private account," I said before looking back towards the door. "Excuse me! Secretary!" I said raising my voice. I felt odd only calling her secretary. Those were the people so over looked in businesses like this. She walked in all the same. "Sorry, but what did Fowkes say your name was? I don't remember catching it," I asked her awkwardly.

"He didn't. It's Donna," The secretary told me, looking genuinely surprised that someone had actually cared to ask her her name.

"Well before we leave, Donna, would you mind calling us in a reservation for three at Alain Ducasse?" I asked her. The restaurant was extremely expensive, the most expensive in the city of London, but I had eaten there with Mycroft before. It was all part of the plan. Donna nodded at me before leaving.

"We're not dressed for Alain Ducasse," John hissed at me, obviously having heard about the place, as we walked out of the office.

"I've eaten there before with Mycroft. We're dressed just fine, besides the owner owes me a favour. We are going to invite Martin Rydell to lunch and it'll help if I drop the name of one of the most expensive restaurants in the city," I told John as we entered the lift and I got out my phone to call Martin Rydell.

This case was going to be interesting, especially without the dark haired consulting detective by my side. I set up the meeting with Rydell and told him to meet us at the restaurant in half an hour to discuss an urgent matter of business. It was too easy to get him to agree after I put on my poshest voice. If you scream money, they will come running, all of them. I slid in the back of a cab with John and watched as the city of London rushed by outside of our windows my world once again grey as I looked up at the overcast skies. I could deal with Sherlock later. I wasn't running away from him, no matter how easy that would be. But this was one corner… of one country, in one continent, on one planet that was the corner of a galaxy that was the corner of a universe that was forever growing and shrinking and creating and destroying, and never remaining the same for a single millisecond. And there was so much, so much to see because it went so fast. I wasn't running away from things. I had done that too often in the past and it had gotten me to this point. I was tired of running away. Running away because I was scared to move forward. This time, I was running to them before they flared and faded forever. I was not going to lose Sherlock… I didn't think my heart would let me.


	30. To Crave Oblivion

**(A/N) Another chapter for you all. Lexi reminds us that she is not responsible for any grammatical errors as she claims that John typed up this chapter. Another chapter on Wednesday and then we finish this case next Sunday. We're moving on to the Blind Banker and then it's a quick case before the Great Game. After that the story picks up its pace and starts to move rather quickly as we get into A Scandal in Belgravia and then the trio is off to Baskerville and John contends with the Fall. How does Lexi come into all and what will it mean for our consulting detectives? Stay tuned to find out. As for this case, what will happen to Lexi and Sherlock? Will they be set back or will this push them further along? Without further ado, onto the chapter!**

**Note on reviews: Thank you for pointing out to me that you can't switches sides when playing the viola. I do know this as I play the violin, but thank you all the same. For the purposes of this story I made it possible as I figured Lexi would find some way to make it work as she gets hurt so often.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Eight – To Crave Oblivion<strong>

"**Here is my lens. You know my methods."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle**

The cab pulled up at Alain Ducasse and I paid the cabbie before sliding out, taking John's offered arm as he escorted me inside. We were led to a table in the middle of the restaurant and John was ever the gentleman and pulled my seat out for me before excusing himself to use the loo. He came back and sat down across from me and as soon as we were both seated we looked over at each other and started laughing. Sherlock would have hated this, but it was actually rather nice to just be able to sit down with John and spend some time with just him. Our waiter came over and handed us our menus and John looked in shock at the prices on the menu before looking up at me.

"So you loathe Canon Ebersole and everything they stand for, but you love to spend their money? You don't see any inconsistency with that?" John asked me with a laugh as I looked at him over the top of my menu. I shrugged at him with a little grin.

"I'm redistributing as many of their assets as I can. If I have work with the croupiers of a rigged game, I'm gonna make damn sure their wallets are lighter in the morning," I told John as the owner of the restaurant came over to our table.

"Ms. MacKenna so wonderful to see you again. Anything you want on the menu is free for you and your date," He told us in a thick French accent. The French cuisine was delicious here and I was qite partial to it.

"Philippe, it is wonderful to see you again as well. John is actually my colleague," I told the owner as I gestured to John. We didn't need a repeat of Angelo's as funny as all that was. I was already in trouble with one flatmate, I didn't need to lose John right now too.

"Friend," John interjected and I turned away from Philippe to beam at the army doctor. He considered me as a friend, not just as a flatmate or a colleague. My appreciation for John rose tenfold.

"My apologizes," Philippe said and I waved him off. It wasn't his fault for making the wrong assumption. "Anything on the menu for you and your friend," He assured me before turning to John. "Your friend here helped me find which of my waiters was stealing money from our tills. Saved me before I lost too much and it was all recovered."

"That's Lexi, solving cases, helping people," John told him and I blinked in shock, touched by John's words. He was going to make me cry if he kept on going.

"That she is, a God send. Enjoy your meal," Philippe told us before walking away. I looked over at John who was now looking over his menu in a poorly conceived attempt to hide his face from me.

"John," I said, getting his attention and he lowered his menu to look at me. "Thank you for that," I told him as I reached across the table and put my hand over one of his. "It honestly means a lot to me to hear that you consider me a friend," I told him truthfully and he took my hand and squeezed it back.

"Of course I consider you a friend. You're brilliant and bloody fantastic. Don't let what Sherlock said get to you. He's just a tit," John told me and I laughed at that. John had such a way with words and such a way with describing Sherlock.

"Ma'am," Our waiter said as he came over carrying an expensive bottle of wine.

"Mm," I asked him as I looked over the bottle.

"It's a bit early to drink isn't it?" John asked me incredulously and I looked over at him with a grin on my face.

"It's the most expensive bottle they've got," I told him and he stared at me in more confusion. I shook my head and decided to try that again. "It's not for me John. Honestly, I told you I don't uphold the Irish stereotype where you have to be drunk all the time. You see that couple over there?" I told John as I pointed to the couple behind me who were sharing a piece of cake. "I observed them while you were in the loo. The man's suit is frayed from dry cleaning. I'd wager it's the only one he's got. Therefore, he's saved to come here for a special occasion. He also keeps touching his inside pocket of his suit coat, like he's checking to see that something valuable still there," I told John as the man touched his inside coat pocket as I was speaking, proving my point. "He's about to propose. And I'm going to send this wine over as congratulations. Or condolences," I told John with a slight frown before I smiled and turned back to the waiter. "It's lovely, thank you' I told the waiter and he left with the wine.

"Ms. MacKenna?" Someone said and I turned in my seat as Rydell approached the table, confused and somewhat suspicious. He looked a little hesitant to sit down after he looked over at John who had fallen back into his military posture.

"Mr. Rydell," I said as I got up and shook his hand before sitting back down. "Won't you sit down?" I asked him as I gestured to the third seat. He sat down slowly, still eyeing John who looked very imposing, obviously taking my comment of bodyguard seriously. "I have a tiny confession to make," I told Rydell as I held up the fingers on my good hand to show how much. "I told a couple of white lies on the phone. I don't actually work at Canon Ebersole and John has no intention of opening a private executive account with you. What I would like, however, is to discuss the work you did concealing Peter Talbott's predilection for expensive call girls," I told him as I attempted to look as imposing as I could with a cast on one hand. Thankfully John did enough for the both of us.

"I'm sorry, I think maybe this is a mistake" Rydell told me as he started to stand up. He was in for a lot more than he bargained for. He wasn't getting away that easily.

"This is strictly legal, the private executive accounting business?" I asked Rydell and he sat down again. "Good choice, John here doesn't take to kindly to people not listening to me," I told Rydell gesturing to John who nodded at my comment. "I would assume that it's not by your reaction to the question. Yet you seemed very eager to take this meeting with us, so… I'm quite sure that Peter Talbott's not the only rich man to avail himself of your services. But by all means leave," I told him as I got my phone out of my handbag. "I'm sure that any number of magazines would love to publish a story about the man who hides the dirty secrets of Canary Wharf. The press is so base these days," I sighed forlornly and nodded at John who played along with me. I hit a button on my phone and raised it to my ear. "Excuse me," I told Rydell before seeming to put my attention into my phone. "Hello, is this The Huffington Post?"

"Wait!" Rydell told me urgently and I raised an eyebrow at him invitingly. "I work with Peter," Rydell told me and I hung up and set my phone down on the table in front of me. "I set up a shell corporation and we steer a little bit of his pay check into it. Quiet little slush fund. He can do whatever he wants with it," Rydell told me and I nodded at that. Like I thought, what did people have to be so predictable?

"And if he were using this slush fund to binge on his favourite bad habit, where do you suppose we might find him?" I asked Rydell as I sighed heavily. He was probably out partying. This case was barely worth my time to begin with and it hadn't even kept me out of the flat long enough to avoid Sherlock.

"I rented a flat in in Central London under the name of a dummy corp," Rydell told us reluctantly just as a shout came from the woman behind us.

"Yes! I will! Oh of course I will!" The woman who had just been proposed to said as she shared a kiss with her new fiancée. I smirked at John and he shook his head. Oh yeah, I was good.

"It's lovely, isn't it? Hm? This flat. We'll need the address," I told Rydell before taking out my notebook and pen from the inside of my purse. "Why don't you write it down and scamper out of here and I won't tell my friend on the police force that you are doing something illegal," I offered to him. He hurriedly nodded his head in agreement and wrote down the address to the flat before he got out of there quickly. I looked back at John who was staring at me incredulously as I grinned. I did love to blackmail people, I had learnt that from Mycroft. I gestured to have the waiter come over and looked back at John. "Might as well eat since we're here. Then we can finish off this case," I told John before I placed my order.

John and I sat for the next hour eating the five star delicacies before us. We joked and laughed and John told me that solving cases with me had its perks since I actually stopped to enjoy a meal. I could understand John's frustrations with Sherlock but I reminded him that Sherlock just dealt with things differently than most people. Just because I was upset with him did not mean that I would bad mouth him behind his back. I was as much at fault as he was. I had finally realized that it hadn't just been my decision to sleep on the couch with him. He had as much decision making in that matter as I did. We left the restaurant significantly in better spirits than when we first arrived and we took a cab down to the address of Peter Talbott's secret apartment to investigate. We stopped in front of the building where Talbott apparently resided when he was of binging on his bad habit and I hit the buzzer beside the door.

"Office," The doorman said sounding extremely bored. Ah perfect. Judging by the man's accent he wasn't from Central London. No camera on the com system so that would make it easier to weasel my way in.

"Yeah, this is Sargent Donovan of Scotland Yard. We got a warrant to look inside flat, ah, 2G?" I said in my best Cockney accent that had John staring at me in surprise. I grinned back at him as I tapped my foot on the pavement.

"Hold on," The doorman told me and I took my finger off of the com unit.

"We don't have a warrant," John told me hurriedly as I stood by the door waiting. I shook my head at John and flashed him a smile.

"I was never asked to see it. See John, the best way to get into somewhere you don't belong is to act like you do. Works like a charm," I told him as we were buzzed in proving my point. We entered the building and John shook his head at me.

"How does that work?" He asked me as we found the stairs and headed up them to find Talbott's flat.

"Well, within hitting the com and the time it took the doorman to respond I had to come up with a plausible excuse to get us into the building. Police are always take seriously because they don't want any trouble. Mentioning I have a warrant almost completely guaranteed me to get us in. Now, the doorman wasn't from Central London. He had the hint of a Cockney accent, but he covered it up when he was talking. He had to in order to get a job in Central London. Therefore, by adopting that accent it made me seem like I was from the area he was and I was a Scotland Yard Sargent which meant I knew how hard it was to work in the middle of the city. Elementary my dear Watson," I told him with a grin as we found Talbott's flat. I knocked on the door and we got no response at all. I sighed and opened my handbag, thankful that I had thought to put my lock picking kit in my purse. "Lock picking is a good skill to have. I'll have to remember to teach you at some point," I remarked as I got down on my knees and put the lock picking equipment into the lock. I manipulated it for a few seconds before I found the right angle and turned it, the lock opening with a click. "Ta da!" I said with a grin as John helped me up to my feet. I put my stuff away in my handbag and we opened the door and walked into Talbott's apartment.

"This is the apartment he kept on the side? This place is amazing," John said as we spotted something or more like someone slouched in a chair.

"Mr. Talbott," I said as we approached the living room. "Your bosses would like a word," I said as we walked around to the front side of the man to see that he was sprawled out, quite dead. On the table beside him was a spoon, a glass of water, a lighter, and crumbles of what I was able to determine was heroin. Talbott's fingers had slipped from a needle that he held in the crook of his arm that he had used to overdose. I stared at him and John looked to me worriedly.

"Lexi," John asked me as I continued to stare down at Talbott and the syringe. My veins felt numb and I could almost feel the heaviness in my limbs that I remembered from my own almost overdose. I felt the cold chills and then suddenly an arm was put on my shoulder. I turned to see John looking up at me in concern. "Are you alright?" John asked me sounding far away until I resurfaced.

"Fine, I'm fine John," I told him before I got out my phone. "I'm just…going to call Lestrade," I told him as I gestured back to the door. He followed me outside of the flat and I made the call to Lestrade who told us to stay there until he got there. Within a half an hour Lestrade had a full police team inspecting the scene. I ignored Anderson and Donovan as I stared at the investigation while John observed me concernedly. I knew that he was worried about me being here. He knew about my own almost overdose and seeing everything in front of me again could possibly be very not good. I had a feeling that I would be hearing from Mycroft again tonight. He would consider this a danger night for me, when it was possible that I could finally break down and turn back to the drugs. I was done with that though. I already promised him that I wouldn't go back to that and I meant that. I got my life back on track and I had no desire to mess it up for a second time.

"You all right? Do you want to get away from this? We can go outside and talk," John asked me and I turned to him and shook my head as I bit my lip. I didn't want to be here anymore, but I had to be professional. Lestrade was here and I had to work this case, I could let Donovan or Anderson see me break down, especially over this.

"I'm…I'm fine John. I have to be, I'm working a case. And talking about my feelings is not going to get it solved. All right?" I asked him a little tersely and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Peter Talbott is right there. Your job is over," John told me and I stared at him incredulously.

"Over?" I asked him as I glanced to the kitchen. "Do you see that salad sitting there?" I asked him as I turned and started toward where Lestrade was taking notes over the body. "Greg, you're classifying this as an accidental overdose, yeah?" I asked him and he looked back at me as I tried to ignore looking at Talbott's body. If I didn't look at it, it didn't bring back the memory that that could have likely been me at one point, dead in my apartment until Mycroft realized he hadn't seen me in a few days or a neighbour reported an odd smell.

"Well, we'll wait on the ME to make the final determination, but you're looking at the same picture we are," Lestrade told me and I nodded my head as I looked around the scene again. Yes, we were looking at the same scene, but like I had told Lestrade we saw things differently.

'_Notice what they can't,'_ The deep baritone voice told me as I scanned the room, forcing myself to look over Talbott's body. The consulting detective walked up to me and stood beside me as I analysed what I was seeing in my Mind Palace as I had taken to calling it now.

'_Use your eyes, notice everything. What did I teach you?'_ Mycroft asked me as he walked up on the other side of me in my Mind Palace.

'_To notice everything,'_ I told Mycroft as I rolled me eyes and looked closer at the body of Talbott, relaxing a little. Mycroft always calmed me down when I got over emotional or stressed out. Even when he wasn't physically with me, he was always in my Mind Palace when I needed him.

'_And what do you notice about the body?_' Mycroft asked me as I walked up to Talbott and leaned over him. Sherlock leaned close to me and offered over a magnifying glass which I used to get a closer look at the needle track marks and at the dead man's cuticles and mouth. In truth it was my own magnifying glass, but when my Mind Palace took over, it supplied me with what it wanted to.

'_Care to share with the class?'_ Sherlock asked me sarcastically as I straightened up. I brushed myself off giving him back the magnifying glass.

'_Not overdose, murder,_' I told Sherlock before I looked back at Lestrade who was watching my carefully. "Yes, we are looking at the same thing, but I don't think we need to wait on the examiner to get started. I think there's a good chance that Peter Talbott was murdered," I told Lestrade as Mycroft and Sherlock disappeared from existence.

"Murdered? The guy's holding the needle he used to shoot himself up," Anderson scoffed at me as he came and walked over to Lestrade and I dressed in his ridiculous blue jump suit. I rolled my eyes at him and tried to get over his stupidity.

"He's holding the needle that someone used to shoot him up. Look…look at his arm. There's …there's no track marks on it," I told Lestrade, ignoring Anderson.

"That doesn't mean anything. A junkie can find a vein anywhere," Anderson said and I rounded on him, pulling up the sleeve of my jacket and showing him the skin around my right elbow.

"And yet I still have track marks and it's been four years," I told Anderson showing him my scares. "It isn't as easy as you would think, to find a vein, especially when you're high," I told him pulling my jacket sleeve back down. I rubbed my face impatiently as I looked back at Lestrade who looked slightly worried now. "Look around you. Does this…does this look like the typical flat of a hard-core heroin user? It's… it's pristine!" I said with a nervous laugh as I gestured around the flat. "I…I'd wager even the food is perfectly arranged," I told him as I strode to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Ha," I said as Lestrade came to look at it. The inside of the fridge was filled with boxes and bottles of food meticulously stacked. "Does that look like the typical fridge of a heroin addict?"

"No. Not a typical one," Lestrade relented as I walked back into the living room.

"Heroin users are typically looking for oblivion. They want the drug to dull their senses. That's why when they overdose, usually you find them in squalid flats or alleyways. They don't often keep flats like this. And it's rare… ish, that they hold jobs as the COO of a billion-dollar corporation," I told Lestrade as I leaned over to look at the body again.

"So you're saying that someone gave Peter Talbott that shot," Lestrade said as he held out his hands expectantly. "How? There's no sign of a struggle here. You can't walk up to someone and stick a syringe in their arm," Lestrade said and I grinned at him a nodded.

"No, you would need them to be unconscious first," I told Lestrade as I walked back over to the kitchen and stopped in front of the counter and stared at the open box of salad.

"Okay. Granted, I've never been hit with a salad container, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't knock you out," Lestrade told me as John watched me worriedly. I knew that I was probably freaking him out with the way I was acting.

"The killer would need Peter to be insensate before delivering the fatal shot. But a drug other than heroin would surely show up on tox screens," I deduced as I pointed down at the salad. "So what's the most efficient solution? If Peter Talbott was murdered, I'd imagine the first dose of heroin came from here. After he passed out, the killer dragged him to the chair, where he delivered the fatal shot," I told Lestrade as I took several paces into the living room and indicated the chair where Talbott was sitting.

"You think someone dosed his salad dressing?" Lestrade asked me sceptically and I nodded.

"I think it's worth exploring. It's easy enough to find out if I'm right, we just test the salad for the presence of heroin," I told Lestrade as I gestured back towards the salad.

"I'll hold my breath on that. Meantime, I gotta notify Talbott's wife of all… this," Lestrade said gesturing to Talbott's body before he looked towards Anderson. "Finish up here and take the salad in as evidence," He told him and Anderson immediately protested.

"You're not seriously going to listen to her are you?" Anderson asked him as he looked at me and scoffed. John immediately stepped forward with his hand clenched tight in anger. I put an hand on his shoulder stopping him before he could do anything he would regret.

"She's got a point. Take it in as evidence," Lestrade told him before turning back to me. "You coming to talk with Talbott's wife?" He asked me as he made for the door.

"Of course. We'll follow behind you in a cab?" I asked him and he nodded. "John," I said, holding my hand out towards the army doctor as he stood there staring down Anderson. He turned around towards me and took my hand, letting me lead him out as he calmed down. "Thank you John," I told him as I squeezed his hand before letting it go. We hailed a cab and drove down to the station where Lestrade would meet us to break the news to Mrs. Talbott. I joked around with John trying to lighten the mood and make up for how I had just acted at the crime scene. I knew he was still worried for me and I knew that I would have to make it up to him for the way I had behaved. I didn't normally lose it like I had at the crime scene, but this case was slightly more personal now. "I'm sorry," I told him suddenly and his head snapped up towards me. "For back there," I clarified and he immediately cut me off.

"No, you don't have to apologize. I know how difficult that must have been for you," John told me as I shook my head at him with a sad smile on my face.

"No honestly, I'm sorry John. You shouldn't have had to see that. It's just…getting into drugs was the worst mistake I have ever made. For eight years I tried to get out of the cycle and I failed miserably. It took almost dying to finally get me to realize that I had to start helping myself. Seeing Talbott brought back memories of that night. I'd forgotten what it smells like," I told John glancing at him. "Cooked heroin. It brought back memories of when I was using."

"Tell me about it," John told me and I looked over at him in confusion. Why would he want to know about that? Why would anyone want to know about that? "Why did you start? You said that heroin users want to dull their senses. That they crave oblivion. Is that what you wanted?" John asked me, reaching forward in the cab and taking my hand in his.

"For a time yes. As for why I started that was because of my father. I was nineteen when my granddad died. He was the only one who ever cared about me growing up. My father didn't want children but he needed an heir to carry on the family name. My mother had me, a daughter, and she died giving birth to me. To say my father despised my very existence is putting it mildly. I had a lonely childhood. Only my granddad cared about me. He saw I was different than most children. He told me I was a lot like my mother. He was my father's father but he always loved my mother, thought she was good for his son. He helped me practice making deductions. I remember all the games we used to play. He called it my gift and told me never to waist it. He got me into a private school and then when I was twelve and he helped me get into Uni. My father was never proud of me like a parent would be if their child started at University at that age. My granddad was over the moon though. He died when I was nineteen, just out of Uni. At first I used the drugs in order to cope with his death. I told myself I was above addiction. That it was for the weaker minded but I was lying to myself. Soon I couldn't cope without it, couldn't think without it. By the time I was twenty-four I was a hard-core drug addict. Mary, my friend I told you about, really she was like a sister to me. We met in med school she was my flatmate. She knew something was wrong of course, but I had gotten good at hiding it. I left Ireland at twenty four came to England and told myself I was going to start over that I was done with the drugs, but I couldn't stop. I tried for so long and then I met Mycroft and it got harder to hide. He tried to help me quit, but I never let him see the extent of it. When I got off the wagon he helped me get back on it. And then I almost died, and it all came out and he got me into rehab. We fought constantly. I would have thought he would have given up on me, but he didn't. It's why were so close if you wondered. He's like my brother honestly. He had no reason to stay with me, but he did. I can never thank him enough for that. I knew he had a brother and I slowly worked out that his brother was also an addict. I realized that was why he stayed. I heard the few phone calls he had with Sherlock. They were always arguing. Sherlock had struggled to get clean like I had. Mycroft forced him into it too. He told me I shouldn't waste my talents. Back at the crime scene, I wondered what might have happened if Mycroft hadn't found me in time. Would the police have called it an overdose or would they have realized it was murder? I've often wondered that. Wondered what might have happened if I died," I told John, looking out of the window and up at the grey overcast skies, threating rain. Grey, the colour of my life for the last four years. I looked back at John and the grey was changed to include shocks of blue and gold and green.

"I'm glad you didn't. Think about it, I'd probably be living with Sherlock alone. I would have killed him already without you," John said and I laughed, John joining me. I rested my head against the army doctor's shoulder, wishing he was wearing one of his jumpers instead of his suit. John was like a blessing in disguise. John reminded me of home. He was jumpers and tea and jam and he always smelt like petrichor. He had seen the dangers of war, fought battles, won some lost others, but always returned to London. He was strong and kind and John and I was glad to have met him.

"I'm glad I didn't too. I would never have met you or Sherlock," I told John as he put an arm around my shoulders. "I was so alone and I owe you two so much," I told John and he tightened his arm around me. "Thank you John," I told the army doctor.

"What are friends for eh?" John asked me and I smiled as I looked up at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Why do you do that?" John asked me and I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Kiss me. You don't do it to Sherlock but you do to Mycroft," John clarified and I pulled back and looked at him nervously.

"Not good?" I asked him and he shook his head at me.

"No, no it's fine. I only wondered why," John told me and I looked down at my hands, picking at my cast.

"I think of you like I do Mycroft. A friend and a brother of sorts. It just feels right," I told him and it was his turn to look at me with confusion.

"And Sherlock?" He asked me and I smiled at that as I looked out of my window again.

"I'm not quite sure about him. I need to collect more data," I told him before we road on in silence back to the Yard. We got out of the cab as soon as it pulled to a stop and John paid the cabbie before we both walked with determined strides up to Lestrade's division. We met Lestrade outside of one of the conference rooms where Mrs. Talbott had been brought it. We filled in after Lestrade and took a seat to the side as Lestrade just wanted us to observe. Lestrade gently broke the news to Mrs. Talbott who looked properly shocked by the news, of course that didn't mean anything. She of all people certainly would have had motive to kill her husband if she had found out about his women on the side.

"Oh my god. Peter said he was done with it all. The girls, the partying. He just told me he was ready for kids, and you're saying he was using heroin?" Mrs. Talbott asked us in disbelief and John and I nodded as Lestrade made to answer her question.

"Sorry Greg, quick question," I told the DI before I looked over at Talbott's wife. "Mrs. Talbott," I said as Lestrade gave me an exasperated look. "Sorry to interrupt, but would you mind telling us were you were two nights ago between the hours of six and midnight?" I asked her and she looked at me with a frown on her face, her eyebrows furrowed as John cleared his throat beside me.

"What?" She asked me disbelievingly.

"The medical examiner estimates that's when your husband died. I was wondering where you were," I told her having read the reports that Lestrade had handed me over that he had just gotten in before we had walked into the conference room.

"Lexi," Lestrade warned, but I ignored him as Mrs. Talbott spoke.

"You…you think I'd hurt my husband?" Mrs. Talbott told me her voice raising an octave. Ah, actually surprised and not lying. Her body language and now her voice all indicated that she hadn't actually known about the heroine and she did actually believe her husband had given up all of the partying.

"No, no. Everything we've seen so far says accidental death," Lestrade assured her. I decided to still continue with me line of questioning just to be on the safe side. Mycroft told me to use my eyes and notice everything. He also told me never to give up on a lead until you knew for certain that it wasn't what you were looking for.

"Even so. Your whereabouts?" I asked her one more time and Lestrade turned to her quickly as John nudged me in the side. I fixed him with a look that conveyed that I didn't believe she was the killer, but I was making sure that she wasn't. He seemed to understand some of what I was silently trying to tell him because he nodded.

"You don't have to answer that," Lestrade assured her but she answered me anyway.

"I…I volunteer at Habitat for Humanity. I was at a silent auction. There…there must have been two hundred people who saw me there," Mrs. Talbott stammered and I nodded at her in understanding.

"Thank you. I'm very sorry, but I had to check," I told her and she nodded at me slowly. "And you are sure that until today, you had no idea your husband was using heroin?" I asked her as Lestrade fixed me with a look only this time it was more questioning than before. I knew he was still wondering how I was doing with this investigation such it hit so close to home with me.

"I told you, no. I'm shocked. But… I… can't say I'm totally surprised. He's been overwhelmed, ever since they named him COO. Peter used to say the last guy dropped dead just to get out of going into work," Mrs. Talbott told me and my eyes widened in surprise at that. The last man in his position had died too?

"Sorry…sorry. Did you just say the previous chief operating officer of Canon Ebersole also died?" I asked her, making sure I heard her correctly as I leaned closer to her in my chair.

"He was allergic to peanuts. He died when some restaurant put the wrong oil in his lunch," Mrs. Talbott told me and I looked back at John who nodded at me in understanding before I looked back to Mrs. Talbott. There was something going on here. The previous COO dies as well and over a peanut allergy? They were just too similar. Of course, an overdose and an allergic reaction weren't the exact same, but they had similar symptoms if you thought about it.

"How long ago was that?" I asked her and she thought about it for a second before answering me.

"Last October…why? What does this have to do with Peter?" She asked me and Lestrade cut in before I could answer her.

"Nothing at all. We're finished," He told her as he stood up and shook Mrs. Talbott's hand. John and I rose as well and did the same. "Thank you very much for coming in and again we're very, very sorry for your loss," Lestrade told her as he led her to the door where Donovan took over to escort her out. As soon as the door closed, Lestrade tuned accusingly towards John and I giving me a WTF look.

"Peanut allergies? Seriously?" Lestrade asked me in exasperation and I nodded at him as I collected my hand bag.

"Canon Ebersole has lost two COOs in a year. That seems like a dangerous job and very, very suspicious," I told Lestrade before I turned back to John. "I need your help reviewing some files. Let's head back to the flat. I don't like leaving Sherlock for this long. God only knows what he might have done to the flat," I told John who instantly looked worried. "I'll call you if I figure anything out," I told Lestrade, waving at him over my shoulder before John and I left him. A quick cab ride later and we were back at Baker Street. We entered the flat as if it was the middle of a war zone and all we found was Sherlock sitting in his pyjamas and his bathrobe at his laptop, looking as if he hadn't moved all morning.

"Ah you're back. Case not interesting enough?" Sherlock asked us as John helped me out of my coat and hung it up behind the door for me. I looked over at him trying to not snap at him, but wanting to so badly.

"No actually, what started off as a missing persons case turned into a murder investigation," I told Sherlock as I pulled off my scarf, John moving towards the kitchen to make us both some tea. "What about you, what have you been doing all day?" I asked Sherlock to be polite and because I was actually curious as to what he had been doing all morning.

"Working on a case of actual importance and not doing my brother's dirty work. I was offered another case as well, apparently the Jaria Diamond has gone missing," Sherlock told me as I got out my mobile and found the number for the restaurant where the previous COO of Canon Ebersole had ordered his deadly meal.

I had gotten the information from a friend of the diseased man while in the cab back to Baker Street. I had also asked them a few questions about how he was about his peanut allergy. I was good at finding out information that I needed. I had hacked into Canon Ebersole's company records to find out more about their previous COO. Two dead in a year, that didn't say coincidence. That told me something more sinister might be at work. I ignored Sherlock's comment about cases of actual importance and went to my room, getting a few of my locks as I managed to talk to the chef that prepared the meal that killed the previous COO. Unfortunately, he only spoke Mandarin. It was a good thing that I had started learning it recently. I spoke with the chef on the phone as I brought my locks back to the living room and tinkered with them at the coffee table while on the phone.

"不用啊,謝謝. 下次有機會再講您的菜. /Bu yong a, xie xie. Xia ci you ji hui zai jiang ni de cai. / No need, thank you. Next time we have the opportunity we can talk more about your food," I told him before hanging up as John came into the living room with a tea tray which he set down beside me on the coffee table.

"You speak Mandarin?" John asked me as I picked up a mechanical piece I had been working on inventing and fiddled with it.

"Not as well as I'd like," I told him as he handed me over my mug of tea. "Thanks John,' I told the shorter man as he took his own mug and gestured to the plate of Jammy Dodgers. I picked up one of the biscuits and nibble on it appreciatively.

"Who was that?" John asked me as he sat down heavily in his chair. I stayed on the couch, sitting as far away from the consulting detective as the room would allow. It would seemed that not even our morning absence had been enough to clear up the mood he was in. Then again I was fooling myself in thinking we would come back to the flat and find him less biting and annoying detective that he was being right now. A Holmes' mood could last for days.

"The chef that prepared the meal that killed Peter Talbott's predecessor at Canon Ebersole," I told John as I took a sip of my tea after blowing on it. John made perfect tea. I was glad that it had been John with me back at the crime scene rather than John. Sherlock wouldn't have understood why that had affected me the way it had. While Sherlock and I were alike, the reasons behind why we turned to drugs was much different. Sherlock did it because he thought the drugs made him concentrate and think better. I did it because I wanted to forget and stop the pain at least for a little while. Sometimes the pain of caring got to be too much. It was why I had learnt to let it go now.

"Any particular reason?" John asked me as Sherlock thankfully stayed silent. I noted that John hadn't made any tea for Sherlock. I knew that John was pissed at Sherlock. He didn't think like he had the right to treat me like he had and nothing Sherlock was saying was making John want to forgive him anytime soon.

"We won't get the test results back from Peter Talbott's salad for a couple of hours. In the meantime I suppose I'm just curious. The previous COO of Canon Ebersole was a man named Gary Norris if my hack into company records was accurate. He had terrible allergies," I told John as I took another sip of my tea, thankful for this little break in the case.

"Yes. Noted earlier," John told me and I nodded before I continued with my explanation of the facts that we had so far.

"He was fanatical about avoiding peanut products. He had every single takeaway meal from the same Chinese restaurant. He had a special arrangement with the chef, who knew never to have peanut oil around when he was preparing Gary Norris's meals," I told John as I scrunched up my face in thought. Somehow the peanuts got into the meal but if my conversation was correct the restaurant wasn't to blame.

"Well it only takes one slip-up," John pointed out as Sherlock stared furiously at his computer screen. I was worried that he might get an aneurism from how intensely he was looking at his screen. I remembered a remark I had made to Anthea, known as Thalia then, about how it was like she was in the episode of Doctor Who where the editor on Satellite Five knew everyone was dead and working as slaves on the computers.

"You're right, but the chef swears he didn't slip up. He prepared that meal personally. He believes that someone put the peanut oil in Gary Norris's food after it left his kitchen. I'm starting to think he could be right," I told John as he thought about it.

"Death by peanut oil. That would be a brilliant way to kill someone," John remarked and I nodded in agreement. In fact, it would be an almost too perfect way to kill someone. The same could be said for an overdose. Lestrade wouldn't have even considered it a murder if I hadn't pointed it out. I could only hope that Talbott's death was actually murder or else Lestrade would have a reason to listen to my deductions in the future.

"Mm," I hummed in agreement. "If Peter Talbott was murdered, the MO is consistent. Eliminate your target in a way the world thinks is an accident," I told John as I heard the door opening downstairs. I bit my lip and flexed my fingers as I stared down into the contents of my mug. The creaking sound of footsteps on the stairs reached my ears and I already knew who it was. Sherlock apparently did was well because he suddenly got up and walked with his laptop down the hallway before he went into his room and slammed the door with a resounding bang behind him. Mycroft walked inside of the flat and I looked up at him.

"Lexi," Mycroft said as he entered our flat and walked inside. I already knew why he was here. He thought it was a danger night. He called any night that I could possibly go back to the drugs my danger nights. I was fine though, I honestly had no want at all to go back to the drugs.

"Mycroft I already know what you are going to say and I'm fine. Honestly, it's not a danger night. You would know if it was. Besides, I already talked to John, I'm perfectly fine," I assured him as he stood there not looking convinced. He gave me the customary Mycroft Holmes frown.

"Be that as it may, you'll understand if I keep surveillance on you tonight," Mycroft said as he played with the handle of his umbrella. "With respect to Dr. Watson, I believe that I will be the judge of how "fine" you are," Mycroft told me and I stood up and glared at Mycroft. I wasn't a child who needed a babysitter to make sure I didn't do something stupid. I would have thought Mycroft would have more faith in me as well.

"Actually, Mycroft, what I need, I believe, is privacy tonight. I'm not going to relapse. Besides, if I wanted drugs, I could always just climb out the window, whether you're here or not," I told him as I stared him down. Of course just the same as when I first met him, he wasn't fazed by my temper. "I managed to get past Buckingham Palace's security once. What makes you think I couldn't get past your men as well?" I asked him before cutting him off before he could answer me. "And might I point out that you of all people should have more faith in me. Go. If it makes you happy, I'll take a spit test in the morning," I told him, pointing to the door of the flat.

He seemed to be considering it as we stared each other down. "Mm, Doctor Watson, you are in charge of her welfare this evening then. Should anything happen to her, you'll answer to me," Mycroft told John as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Do give my best to Sherlock," Mycroft told me and I nodded at him tersely before he turned right back around and left the flat. As soon as he was gone John looked over at me worriedly.

"Are all meeting with Mycroft going to be like that?' John asked me and I laughed as I took my tea mug and sat down in Sherlock's chair across from John.

"You have no idea. That's Mycroft on a good day," I warned him as I picked up my phone. "How does Chinese take away and Doctor Who sound?" I asked John as I checked my phone to see if Lestrade had texted me. Ugh, nothing yet.

"That sounds bloody fantastic," John told me and I grinned at him as I ordered our takeaway.

"Go get out of that monkey suit, I can't look at you in it," I told him with a laugh and he gave me a look.

"Ta for that," He thanked me sarcastically before he pulled himself from his chair and went to change. As soon as the food was ordered I went and changed into my sweatpants and jumper again, putting my phone in my pocket so that I would have it on me as soon as Lestrade called. For the next two hours we watched Doctor Who and ate Chinese take away while laughing with each other on the couch. John left to change into his pyjamas and I took my laptop and hacked into Canon Ebersole's company records. John walked back into the room as I started printing off the pictures and evidence I had found in the company records. Sherlock made his appearance one again, walking into the room with his laptop and sitting back down at his desk. I worked around him as I pinned all of the pictures to the wall above the couch with string connecting all of the pictures. "Who are they?" John asked me as he stopped behind me and helped me down off of the couch.

"Employees of Canon Ebersole who have died over the last ten years," I told him as I picked up my laptop and disregarded the message I had from Mycroft about hacking. It wasn't something I did often, but it was a valuable asset. Mycroft of course still monitored my computer because he still claimed that I could be considered a threat to the British Government. I had only gotten into Buckingham Palace once and I had helped Mycroft tighten security so others couldn't do the same.

"It is a big company. Odds are they're gonna lose some people along the way," John told me as I stood back and view my work. I nodded at him in agreement. Yes, any company could lose people along the way. That was life, but some things weren't purely random.

"And some of these are probably just random, but there could be a pattern hidden in there," I told John as I looked at all of the pictures. "All of these people have died in the last ten years. If there is someone at Canon Ebersole killing off its employees or someone with a grudge against the company killing them than some of these might not be just random deaths. Norris' death as you said was perfect, death by allergic reaction. As for Talbott's death," I said as my phone pinged. I quickly pulled it out of my pocket and read the text that Lestrade had sent me. "I knew it!" I told John with delight and he frowned at me in confusion.

"Knew what?" John asked me as Sherlock looked over the top of his laptop and watched the both of us. I wasn't sure how much of our conversation he was actually listening to, but I didn't care. He obviously had more important things to do and he was the one that refused to work this case with me. For all I cared he could sit in the flat bored all day. I ignored him as I answered John.

"That was Lestrade. Molly agreed to rush the tests of Peter Talbott's salad for me and there were trace amounts of heroin in it," I told John who looked shocked by this. I peeked at Sherlock out of the corner of my eye and found that he was still watching us.

"So…so that means he was murdered. You were right," John told me and I grinned at him and laughed.

"Exactly, Talbott was murdered like I thought he was. We're going to Canon Ebersole tomorrow. I'm going to call another meeting of their board of directors," I told John as I looked at all of my pictures. There was a pattern here to all of this and I only had to figure it out to be able to unravel the greater picture.

"Can you do that? You don't even work there anymore," John asked me and I looked back at him and raised one of my eyebrows. When had that ever stopped me?

"Not technically. But I think they're gonna want my help in trying to figure out whether there's a murderer working there," I told John as I moved towards the hallway. "I'm off to bed. Thank you for your help today John, you are fantastic," I told him and he grinned at my compliment before I left him and slipped back into my room and closed the door behind me.

I sighed as soon as I was alone and then I crossed over to my bed and fell into it, pulling my quilt over my head as I curled into a ball. John had been wonderful today and a lot of help. I was definitely glad that it had been John and not Sherlock with me when we discovered Talbott in his flat. I had needed John there in order to remind myself that I was fine. I wasn't going to just lay down and take Sherlock's abuse. As much as I understood him there were things about him that I knew I was never going to be able to understand. He wasn't like Mycroft. As for Mycroft, I wasn't too happy with him either. I would have expected him of all people to trust me. Instead, John was the only one that knew I was fine and was sticking by me. I had meant what I told John. I was so alone before I had met him and Sherlock and I did honestly owe them so much. As much as Sherlock and I were fighting right now, they had both honestly saved me from myself. I had started to fall into the same period of isolation that I had before I started with the drugs and after meeting them, they pulled me out of that isolation. We were all in some way in need of each other. I smiled to myself as I thought about it. We were all a bit odd, but that was what brought us together. Sherlock was the mind, John was the heart, and I was a mixture of the two. We were the Baker Street Irregulars, two detectives and their army doctor.


	31. On The Move

**Chapter Warnings: Lots of angst and feels. Oh my God do I punch you in the emotions. I'm going to start putting warnings on the chapters when I do that. As for grammar, I'm uploading this at four in the morning currently and edited it the past hour when I couldn't sleep so I might have missed something. If I have, let me know and I can fix it. **

**I want to start off this chapter by saying thank you to all of you. You the readers are what is keeping this story going. I have no hit over 200 followers and over 150 favourites on this story. You have completely blown me away by your praise for Lexi and for this story which I pour my heart and my soul into. Truly you do not know how grateful I am for your continued support of this story as it truly is my story as well. Lexi is the person I would like to be and the events of her life mirror those in my own. Each and every one of you has convinced me that I can do something worthwhile through writing and because of that I am starting on my future to become a writer and a teacher to help other writers. You have all truly inspired me as an author and I am very humbled by you all. I never expected Lexi to get further than a few readers, but you have all taken this story to places I could never dream. **

**I got started writing fanfiction to cope with my depression after I received a rather bad diagnosis that, while I was expecting it, was still difficult to hear. For years I had stopped writing, only to pick it up again in my time of need and I tried something new with this story. You have all kept this story going as your encouragement makes me want to tell Lexi's story even more. On that note, we finish this case on Sunday and then next week we begin the Blind Banker, after that it is one more short case until we reach the Great Game after which the story picks up rather quickly as we enter into the case of the Woman, fight the Hound at Baskerville, and see how Lexi and Sherlock make it through the Fall. Many Happy Returns has already been written as has several special chapters for you all. Lexi's story is so much bigger than just an original character being added into the world of Sherlock.**

**I'd like to think this is a story about finding yourself, of standing up for what you believe in, being proud to be who you are, finding love in the most unlikely of people, friendship, brotherhood, family, and above all, never giving up or giving in, a message that will be continued in my novel featuring Alexandria MacKenna who truly is greater than I could ever hope to be. So without further ado I present you with the longest chapter written to date and I will see you all back here on Sunday. **

**-Melody Morrison**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty Nine- On The Move<strong>

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock awoke feeling very comfortable and warm. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever slept so well, certainly it hadn't been for some time. There were two things that the detective then became astutely aware of, number one being that the source of the warmth was now snuggling into his neck and second that his arm was wrapped around the waist of said warmth. Suddenly someone cleared their throat and Sherlock's eyes shot open, blue grey eyes meeting sparkling green. The owner of the green eyes squeaked before she tumbled off of the couch, leaving Sherlock feeling colder than before, but not just from a lack of body heat. Sherlock looked up at the source of the noise and found that it was John, fully dressed, and eyeing them suspiciously. Lexi immediately jumped into standing and waved in a way that some might perceive as nervousness at the army doctor. Sherlock looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowing. Why was she nervous? He caught her sneak a peek at him before she quickly looked away.

"Ah, morning John," Lexi told the army doctor as she stepped away from the couch with the appearance of nonchalance. John's eyebrow raised higher into his hairline as Lexi moved around him and went into the kitchen presumably to make tea. She was obviously uncomfortable with him being there for some reason and knowing when he wasn't wanted, Sherlock rose from the couch and walked past John without even looking at him and entered his bed room, shutting the door behind him loud enough so Lexi would know it was safe to come back to the living room.

Why? Why was she uncomfortable around him though? He couldn't think of a reason why or why she wouldn't want to look at him. Had he done something wrong? He had slept like she constantly nagged him that he needed to. She had even slept next to him. Wait… no, she was only uncomfortable after she had woken up, before that she had actually gotten closer to him. Was that it? Was she uncomfortable because she woke up next to him? Who knew with women? Sherlock ran his fingers through his curls roughly. This was not good, very not good. He had pushed her too far. He should have suggested that she go to bed before she fell asleep next to him. When she had, Sherlock hadn't known what he was supposed to do so he had just laid her back so she would be more comfortable. He hadn't known where he should put his hand and had settled on putting them around her waist as that felt more natural. Obviously from her emotional cues, he had crossed some sort of boundary. This was exactly why he didn't make friends. He didn't understand social cues or what was considered acceptable or not.

Sherlock heard a cup shatter from the kitchen and froze in his pacing as he looked towards the door. There was only silence after that so Sherlock resumed his pacing. Could he fix this? Apologize to her? He wasn't even sure about what he had done wrong but he knew it was something. Sherlock heard Lexi's bedroom door open and shut and then the process was repeated a minute later before the bathroom door opened and closed and Sherlock heard the distinct sounds of the water turning on. He sighed heavily to himself before going to his wardrobe and pulling out a white button down shirt and one of his suits. He quickly got dressed and left his room without even attempting to control his unruly curls. He was beyond caring about his appearance at that point. Sherlock walked back into the living room passing by John who was in the kitchen doing something that Sherlock couldn't be bothered with looking at. He sat in his chair and folded his hands in his prayer position before entering his Mind Palace to see if it might hold an answers on how he was supposed to fix things with Lexi.

Of course it didn't help that she was already waiting for him as soon as he entered his Mind Palace. That was something new and entirely unnerving for Sherlock. He had entered his Mind Palace recently only to find Lexi in every single room. She had followed him the entire time completely silent which was absolutely maddening. He had been forced to make a room specifically for her in an attempt to lock her away. Lexi's room looked like the living room of 221B and she was always sitting in his chair with a grin on her face as soon as he entered it. Try as he might, she kept escaping from that room and wandering around his Mind Palace beside him until he had finally given up and let her roam freely. She would not be the caged bird or at least that was what she had told him. Sherlock had entered the grand library of his Mind Palace, a place where he kept most of the information he had, tucked neatly away in books on tall shelves that reached from floor to ceiling. Lexi was there, standing on one of the ladders, leaning into one of the shelves and reading the spines of the books.

'_Get down,'_ Sherlock snapped at her as he walked over to the ladder. Lexi looked down at him and grinned sticking out her tongue like she normally did, but then for the first time, the Lexi in his Mind Palace actually spoke to him.

'_Why? You have some of the most interesting things tucked away up here,'_ Lexi asked him as she pulled a book from the top shelf and read off the label. '_Women,'_ She said with a laugh. '_Why pray tell is the book so small?'_ She asked Sherlock as she showed him the size of the book which was actually rather small compared to the rest in his Mind Palace. '_Are we really that much of a mystery to you?' _Lexi asked him as she carefully navigated her way down the ladder until she was standing looking up at Sherlock and handed him the book.

'_I had no time for learning about women. It wasn't important,_' Sherlock snapped at her and she laughed as she followed him over to the lone table in the middle of the library which had previously had one arm chair on one side of it, but now had one on either side as well. Even his Mind Palace was working against him to compensate for her presence, adding things to suit Lexi's needs which was unnerving for Sherlock that she could really change that much of his mind. Lexi sat in the winged back green chair with gold patterns on it as Sherlock took his own chair that looked like his chair in the flat. Lexi messed around with some of the papers on his desk, recent things he had been working on. '_Don't touch those,' _He scolded her as if she was a smile child and she grinned at him, sticking her tongue out again before dropping the papers and leaning back in her chair, throwing her legs over the arm.

'_It's all important Lock. Everything is. It's why I don't get rid of any of it,'_ Lexi told him and he ignored her as he opened the book and started going through all he knew about women to find a solution to his current predicament. '_Find anything useful?_' Lexi suddenly whispered into his ear and he froze as he looked up at the redhead who was leaning over his shoulder and reading down the page. '_That might work,'_ She told Sherlock as she pointed out something on the page. '_You could always try at least.'_

'_I can find a way on my own thank you,'_ Sherlock snapped at her and she only laughed at that as she propped herself up on the desk beside him forcing Sherlock to look up at her.

'_You do know how silly that sounds, not accept my help to apologize to me?' _

'_If I wanted your help I would have asked for it,'_ Sherlock told her as he got up and walked back over to the ladder, climbing it and putting the book back on the shelf in its proper place.

'_And yet here I am Lock,'_ Lexi pointed out, throwing him a knowing look as she followed him over.

'_I didn't ask for you to be,'_ Sherlock told her as he got down off of the ladder and stood in front of Lexi, staring down at her.

'_I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me to be,'_ Lexi told him before raising on her tip toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Sherlock opened his eyes, breaking out of his Mind Palace. He blinked once or twice before noticing that Lexi was sitting over on the couch a book, Pride and Prejudice, in one hand and her body curled around a mug of tea. She didn't meet his eyes as she flicked her gaze over to him and Sherlock quickly got up and moved over to his desk, opening his laptop and staring it up. He searched the Internet for possible ways to make it up to Lexi for his behaviour but all he could find was how to apologize to your girlfriend and that was no help at all because Lexi was not his girlfriend, simply a girl who he did consider a friend. He noticed that Lexi had stopped reading and kept stealing looks at him even though he heard her turn the page every so often. He didn't even have to look up to know that her eyes were on him. The silence in the flat was only broken by the sound of the doorbell ringing downstairs. "Shut up!" Sherlock yelled in direction of the door before turning back to his laptop and continuing with his search of ways to fix his problem. Flowers? Were flowers a good idea? A few people had written that girls liked receiving flowers as an apology for a fight. Had they fought? Not really, they simply hadn't spoken to one another since awakening. Lexi put her book down, and Sherlock noted that she hadn't even bothered to mark her place which proved that she hadn't been reading it.

"You expecting someone?" John asked Sherlock as he heard Mrs. Hudson hurrying to answer the door. The sound of voices downstairs reached Sherlock's ears as Mrs. Hudson let whoever had been at the door inside. He could distinctly hear Mrs. Hudson and the lower more undistinguishable voice of a man.

"Am I ever?" Sherlock asked him snappishly. He looked over at Lexi, their eyes connecting before Sherlock quickly looked away. Sherlock listened to the footsteps on the stairs with the accompaniment of a tap on every other stair. "Heavy set man, came here, but not in a hurry, not a client, but he came here for business, carrying an umbrella…Mycroft" Sherlock deduced, frowning as he made the last deduction. He turned his head around to face the door just as Mycroft walked in. Mycroft was only there because he was spying on them and he knew what had happened. He was only going to make things worse and ruin everything like he always did.

"Well aren't we cosy?" Mycroft asked the three of them as he stopped in the door way and took in the three of them in their respective seats. "Brother of mine," Mycroft greeted Sherlock with a nod. "Ah Dr. Watson," Mycroft said as he twirled his umbrella before walking over to Sherlock's chair and sitting in it so he was facing Sherlock. "Lexi," Mycroft greeted the girl and she looked up at him with a little grin on her face. Why, why was she so happy to see Mycroft of all people?

"My," Lexi said as she got up and bounded over to him, leaning in and giving him a hug as he visibly stiffened under her. She pulled back and saw his frown, but that didn't stop her from pressing a kiss to his cheek. She grinned at Sherlock's now very disgruntled brother before she sat down at his feet grinning up at him impishly. Sherlock would have been happy about how she made him feel uncomfortable if it hadn't been the way she had done it. He felt like punching Mycroft for even going near Lexi. And My, why had she called him My? What was with her pet names for people? Was there a meaning behind them? He felt a little painful clench in his chest that shocked him. Was he having a heart attack? No, his heart was fine, but it hurt in a way he had never felt before.

"What do you want?" Sherlock snapped at his brother, ignoring Lexi's display of affection for him. Sherlock's eyes were slightly narrowed as he looked down at where she was sitting with her back resting up against Mycroft's knees. The pain in his chest grew to anger, not towards Lexi but at his brother. Why was she was affectionate with him and so at ease around him but not with Sherlock? How was it she had no problem being that close to Mycroft but couldn't even look at him now?

"I have a case for you," Mycroft said, seemingly ignoring the look that Sherlock sent his way as he continued. "An influential group of investors requires some aid and I recommended your services," Mycroft said, looking down at Lexi.

"Not interested," Sherlock snapped at Mycroft and he heard Lexi sigh as John shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I wasn't talking to you," Mycroft told Sherlock tersely before he looked back down at Lexi ignoring the death glare that Sherlock sent his way. "Will you take the case?" Mycroft asked Lexi and she seemed to ponder it for a second. Would she take the case for his brother? Would she honestly be willing to help him?

"Yes, where do I need to go?" She asked Mycroft as she got to her feet as Mycroft in turn stood up from Sherlock's chair. He helped her up, being careful of her hand. Sherlock watched as his eyes scrutinized her cast, especially the doctor's signature and phone number on the arm which Sherlock still wasn't happy about. Apparently she would willingly take a case for his brother. The pain in his chest which he now called the monster seemed to relish in causing him more pain over this fact.

"Canon Ebersole. I've already taken the liberty and called ahead to tell them that you would be by within the hour," Mycroft told Lexi and she nodded before he continued. "Anthea will wait for you in the car downstairs. I must be off. Important work to do, you understand," Mycroft told her and she shook her head at him rolling her eyes fondly.

"Meeting with the Ambassador of France? Do tell dear old Dad I said hi," Lexi joked and Mycroft grimaced at the reference. She giggled and showed him over to the door. "Let Anthea know I'll be down in a second, just have to change," Lexi told Mycroft before they parted ways. Lexi stopped in the living room, staring back at Sherlock and John who were both looking at her. "So, are you going to come?" Lexi asked Sherlock sounding hesitant. He could tell that she really didn't want him to come, but wouldn't stop him if he did. Well, he wasn't going to go anywhere he wasn't wanted he thought to himself bitterly.

"And do my brothers dirty work? No, I'm sure your skills will be more than adequate," Sherlock told her bitterly before turning back to his computer. Let her go off and solve Mycroft's problems if she wanted to. If she didn't want him there than fine. He didn't even know what he had done to upset her and she still refused to even look at him for longer than a few seconds.

"John?" Lexi asked the army doctor as Sherlock exited out of his tab and instead logged on to his website and started looking for a new case that he might be able to work on. He was self-sufficient without either of them and had been long before they met.

"Yeah, let me just go and change into something else," John told Lexi, getting up from his chair. Sherlock heard Lexi sigh in relief before she left the room as well. John walked back into the living room before Lexi and Sherlock just ignored him as the army doctor waited by the door in a suit. Lexi returned dressed in a tweed dress that was quite beautiful on her, thought Sherlock wasn't actually looking. John helped Lexi into her coat and she buttoned it one handedly before looking back over at the consulting detective who was attempting to ignore the both of them.

"We're headed out, call me if you need anything," Lexi told Sherlock pausing at the door while John headed down presumably to meet Anthea at the car. Sherlock looked up at Lexi who had a blank expression. He stared at her trying to deduce what she was thinking or even what she was feeling, but he couldn't read anything off of her which frustrated him to no end.

"Why would I need you?" Sherlock asked her curiously and she sighed heavily, confusing Sherlock again. What, what was wrong with asking that? When would it be alright to call her if he did need her?

"No reason at all," Lexi told him before turning around and heading off down the stairs leaving the detective absolutely flabbergasted. What was that supposed to mean?! Sherlock got up and was about to storm after her to demand an explanation, but the door to Baker Street shut with a resounding bang down stairs which forced Sherlock to pause. He hurriedly crossed over to the window and watched as John and Lexi got into a cab and drove off. Sherlock sulked as he went over to the couch and threw himself down on it before entering his Mind Palace again to find an explanation for this new piece of evidence.

'_Want my help now?'_ Lexi asked him as she appeared before him on her knees as she ruffled the ears of an Irish setter who was licking her face as she giggled in delight.

'_What…what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here,_' Sherlock demanded of her as she seemed to lean down to the dog's ear and whisper something to him before he turned and bounded over to Sherlock, jumping his front paws up on Sherlock's shoulders and licking his face as Sherlock broke into an involuntary grin.

'_He was lonely. You never come here anymore_,' Lexi told him as she walked over and stood beside Sherlock as the Irish setter returned to sitting at Lexi's feet. '_Why, why don't you come here anymore?'_ Lexi asked him sadly as Sherlock looked away from her and then walked off to another part of his Mind Palace leaving Lexi and the dog standing there together. '_You can't get rid of me that easy Lock,' _Lexi said as she fell into step beside him as he climbed up the stairs, leading to the upper levels of his Mind Palace.

'_Why won't you leave me alone? Go, I'm sure you have somewhere else you can go,_' Sherlock told her exasperatedly as he began hurrying up the stairs only for her to be waiting for him at the top landing. He walked right past her and kept on going until he reached that room that was hers. Since she wouldn't leave him alone, at least he could stay in this room to keep her from going somewhere she shouldn't be.

'_Where am I supposed to go Lock? You're the one that wants me here. I'm only here because you want me to be here,'_ Lexi told him as she sat down in John's chair and he took a seat across from her in his own.

'_Why would I want you here?'_ Sherlock asked her in confusion. All she had done was annoy him and hinder him from getting any work done since she had appeared in his Mind Palace.

'_No reason at all,'_ Lexi told him and Sherlock groaned in frustration. Could she not tell him any other answer?

'_What is that supposed to mean_?' Sherlock asked her angrily as he pouted like a petulant child, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

'_It means I can't tell you the answer. You are the one who has to figure out why you want me here. It isn't that simple Lock,'_ Lexi told him before getting up and walking out of the room with a giggle. Sherlock watched her go before hurrying to his feet and following after her before she could mess up anything in his Mind Palace. He had followed her giggles until he had found her outside, standing in the gravelled front of a replica of the cottage his parents kept. She stayed outside, looking at the flowers. '_I've never met them you know, your parents,_' Lexi told Sherlock as he came to stand beside her. '_Mycroft wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let me meet you either. I wanted to though. I'm glad I finally got to,' _Lexi told him with a grin as she reached up on her tip toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek for the second time. '_I like it here, it's beautiful,_' Lexi remarked as she walked down a path as he hurried after her, until she finally reached the part of his Mind Palace that contained all of his childhood memories in his family home. '_Mycroft didn't tell me much about his childhood_,' Lexi remarked as she stayed outside the gates of the Holmes Mansion. '_Maybe one day you'll figure it out,'_ Lexi told Sherlock as she finally looked at him.

'_You already know, tell me,'_ Sherlock demanded Lexi and she giggled at him before shaking her head.

'_No, can't say. That would be wrong. You have to figure it out Lock. Use that brilliant, beautiful brain of yours. I know you can figure it out,'_ Lexi told me, taking his hand just before he pulled himself out of his Mind Palace.

Sherlock got up and walked over to the door, pulling on his scarf and jacket and making sure he had his mobile on him before he left Baker Street. He didn't hail a cab but instead walked to the end of Baker Street and hanged a left walking until he made it to an alley way. The first thing he did was find someone in his Homeless Network and gave him a throw away cell which he texted a picture of Lexi to, one he had recovered off of her mobile when he had used it to text Gregson back on their second case together. He told the man to show the picture around and have a few people go over towards Canon Ebersole, they were to text him as soon as that girl left the building and follow her to where she was going next. He got a text after a few hours that said that Lexi as well as another man, blonde short fellow, were seen getting in a cab and they had followed them until they reached a restaurant, Alain Ducasse. Sherlock got a cab there and managed to get into a seat close enough to Lexi and John's where he could still make out their conversation without being seen by either of them.

"So you loathe Canon Ebersole and everything they stand for, but you love to spend their money? You don't see any inconsistency with that?" John asked Lexi with a laugh as she looked at him over the top of her menu. She shrugged at him with a little grin that made Sherlock's mouth twitch up in its own smirk.

"I'm redistributing as many of their assets as I can. If I have work with the croupiers of a rigged game, I'm gonna make damn sure their wallets are lighter in the morning," Lexi told John as a man, obviously the owner of the restaurant, walked over to their table.

"Ms. MacKenna so wonderful to see you again. Anything you want on the menu is free for you and your date," He told the two in a thick French accent. Sherlock growled under his breath as his own waiter came over. He ordered the first thing he saw on the menu hurriedly in order to get him to leave so he could hear what was going on. Was there something between Lexi and John? She had put her head on his shoulder first and she had been kissing him on the cheek. Then again, she did do both with Mycroft as well.

"Philippe, it is wonderful to see you again as well. John is actually my colleague," Lexi told the owner as she gestured to John. Sherlock found himself letting out a breath he didn't even know he had held in the first place.

"Friend," John interjected and Lexi turned away from Philippe to beam at the army doctor. Friend, a label, perfect. They were friends. That was good. Why was that good?

"My apologizes," Philippe said and Lexi waved him off. "Anything on the menu for you and your friend," He assured them before turning to John. "Your friend here helped me find which of my waiters was stealing money from our tills. Saved me before I lost too much and it was all recovered."

"That's Lexi, solving case, helping people," John told him and Sherlock saw Lexi blinked in shock. What was that about? It was true. What was wrong with pointing out the truth?

"That she is, a God send. Enjoy your meal," Philippe told the two of them before walking away. Sherlock watched him leave before looking back over at his two …friends.

"John," Lexi said, getting the army doctor's attention and he lowered his menu to look at her. "Thank you for that," She told him as she reached across the table and put her hand over one of his. "It honestly means a lot to me to hear that you consider me a friend," Lexi told him and John took her hand and squeezed it back. That's why she was surprised? It was something good, not bad. She was surprised because John called her a friend. He could understand that.

"Of course I consider you a friend. You're brilliant and bloody fantastic. Don't let what Sherlock said get to you. He's just a tit," John told Lexi and she laughed at that. Sherlock frowned was that what they both thought about him?

"Ma'am," They waiter said as he came over carrying an expensive bottle of wine.

"Mm," Lexi asked him as she looked over the bottle.

"It's a bit early to drink isn't it?" John asked her incredulously and she looked over at him with a grin on her face.

"It's the most expensive bottle they've got," Lexi told him and he stared at her in more confusion. Lexi shook her head before she spoke again. "It's not for me John. Honestly, I told you I don't uphold the Irish stereotype where you have to be drunk all the time. You see that couple over there?" Lexi told John as she pointed to the couple behind them who were sharing a piece of cake. "I observed them while you were in the loo. The man's suit is frayed from dry cleaning. I'd wager it's the only one he's got. Therefore, he's saved to come here for a special occasion. He also keeps touching his inside pocket of his suit coat, like he's checking to see that something valuable still there," Lexi told John as the man touched his inside coat pocket as she was speaking, proving her point. "He's about to propose. And I'm going to send this wine over as congratulations. Or condolences," She told John with a slight frown before she smiled and turned back to the waiter. "It's lovely, thank you" She told the waiter and he left with the wine.

"Ms. MacKenna?" Someone said and Sherlock scrutinized the man as Lexi turned in her seat as the man approached the table looking confused and somewhat suspicious. He looked a little hesitant to sit down after he looked over at John who had fallen back into his military posture.

"Mr. Rydell," Lexi said as she got up and shook his hand before sitting back down. "Won't you sit down?" She asked him as she gestured to the third seat. He sat down slowly, still eyeing John who looked very imposing. Good Sherlock thought. He didn't like the look of this new guy. At least John was with Lexi. "I have a tiny confession to make," Lexi told Rydell as she held up the fingers on her good hand to show how much. "I told a couple of white lies on the phone. I don't actually work at Canon Ebersole and John has no intention of opening a private executive account with you. What I would like, however, is to discuss the work you did concealing Peter Talbott's predilection for expensive call girls," Lexi told him as she attempted to look as imposing as she could with a cast on one hand. Well, she certainly had gotten far into the case since that morning.

"I'm sorry, I think maybe this is a mistake" The man, Rydell, told her as he started to stand up.

"This is strictly legal, the private executive accounting business?" Lexi asked Rydell and he sat down again. "Good choice, John here doesn't take to kindly to people not listening to me," She told Rydell gesturing to John who nodded at her comment. "I would assume that it's not by your reaction to the question. Yet you seemed very eager to take this meeting with me, so… I'm quite sure that Peter Talbott's not the only rich man to avail himself of your services. But by all means leave," Lexi told him as she got her phone out of her handbag. "I'm sure that any number of magazines would love to publish a story about the man who hides the dirty secrets of Canary Wharf. The press is so base these days," Lexi sighed forlornly and nodded at John who played along with her. She hit a button on her phone and raised it to her ear. "Excuse me," She told Rydell before seeming to put all of her attention into her phone. "Hello, is this The Huffington Post?"

"Wait!" Rydell told her urgently and Sherlock smirked as Lexi raised an eyebrow at him invitingly. "I work with Peter," Rydell told her and she hung up and set her phone down on the table in front of her. "I set up a shell corporation and we steer a little bit of his paycheck into it. Quiet little slush fund. He can do whatever he wants with it," Rydell told Lexi and she nodded at that.

"And if he were using this slush fund to binge on his favourite bad habit, where do you suppose we might find him?" Lexi asked Rydell as she sighed heavily.

"I rented a flat in Central London under the name of a dummy corp," Rydell told John and Lexi reluctantly just as a shout came from the woman behind them.

"Yes! I will! Oh of course I will!" The woman who had just been proposed to said as she shared a kiss with her new fiancée. Lexi smirked at John smugly causing Sherlock to chuckle lowly as John shook his head at the Irish detective.

"It's lovely, isn't it? Hm? This flat. We'll need the address," Lexi told Rydell before taking out a notebook and pen from the inside of her purse. "Why don't you write it down and scamper out of here and I won't tell my friend on the police force that you are doing something illegal," She offered to him and Sherlock chuckled again. Blackmail, it was beautiful. Rydell hurriedly nodded his head in agreement and wrote down the address to the flat before he got out of there quickly. Lexi looked back at John who was staring at her incredulously as she grinned. She gestured to the waiter to come over and looked back at John. "Might as well eat since we're here. Then we can finish off this case," She told John before she placed her order.

Sherlock watched them for the next hour as they ate, picking at whatever he ordered which actually tasted rather nice. He felt jealous as he watched them joke and laugh. John told Lexi that solving cases with her had its perks since she let them stop to eat. It was what Sherlock heard next that shocked Sherlock the most. Lexi was talking to John about how he dealt with things differently than most people, a conversation that sounded like it had already taken place in much length. They left the restaurant and took a cab, presumably to the address of Peter Talbott's secret apartment to investigate. Sherlock knew he would be unable to follow them so he hailed a cab back to Baker Street and texted his man in Havana to let him know exactly where they went from there. He got a text over an hour after he had returned to Baker Street that Lexi and her companion had taken a cab to Scotland Yard. He got another text that was a heads up that they were returning to Baker Street shortly after. One of them was smart enough to send him a picture of her and Sherlock immediately frowned. She did not look as happy as when she and John had left the restaurant. Something had happened to her. Sherlock growled under his breath and started pacing the length of the living room. What had happened to her? Why wasn't she alright? Where had John been? Or was he there and just not enough to help her? If he had been there would she have been alright? Sherlock quickly changed into his night clothes before returning to sitting at his laptop so that it would look like he was doing something. He did have to wait long for them to return home. He was antsy the entire time they walked up the stairs until he was finally able to see the real Lexi again, not just some pseudo Lexi from his Mind Palace.

"Ah you're back. Case not interesting enough?" Sherlock fished as John helped Lexi out of her coat and hung it up behind the door for her. Lexi looked over at him with a glare that made Sherlock frown internally. What had he said wrong now?

"No actually, what started off as a missing persons case turned into a murder investigation," Lexi told Sherlock as she pulled off her scarf, John moved towards the kitchen presumably to make tea. Ah, a cuppa would actually be nice. "What about you, what have you been doing all day?" Lexi asked Sherlock. He panicked. What could he tell her that would be believable?

"Working on a case of actual importance and not doing my brother's dirty work. I was offered another case as well, apparently the Jaria Diamond has gone missing," Sherlock told Lexi as she got out her mobile and started working on it. She took to ignoring him after that and called someone, before she started speaking in fluent Mandarin. Sherlock understood a few of the words, but he couldn't catch enough to understand what she was talking about.

"不用啊,謝謝. 下次有機會再講您的菜. /Bu yong a, xie xie. Xia ci you ji hui zai jiang ni de cai. / No need, thank you. Next time we have the opportunity we can talk more about your food," Lexi told the person on the other line before hanging up as John came into the living room with a tea tray which he set down beside Lexi on the coffee table.

"You speak Mandarin?" John asked her as she picked up a mechanical piece she had been working on while she was on the phone and fiddled with it.

"Not as well as I'd like," Lexi told him as he handed her over a mug of tea. "Thanks John," She told the shorter man as he took his own mug and gestured to the plate of Jammy Dodgers. Lexi picked up one of the biscuits and nibble on it appreciatively.

"Who was that?" John asked Lexi as he sat down heavily in his chair while she stayed on the couch.

"The chef that prepared the meal that killed Peter Talbott's predecessor at Canon Ebersole," Lexi told John as she took a sip of her tea after blowing on it.

"Any particular reason?" John asked me as Sherlock frowned noticing that John had only made tea for the two of them. John normally made tea for the three of them. Was John mad at him now too? Why? Sherlock was so confused. He didn't even know what he had done! Why was everyone suddenly mad at him?

"We won't get the test results back from Peter Talbott's salad for a couple of hours. In the meantime I suppose I'm just curious. The previous COO of Canon Ebersole was a man named Gary Norris if my hack into company records was accurate. He had terrible allergies," Lexi told John as she took another sip of her tea.

"Yes. Noted earlier," John told Lexi and she nodded before she continued with her explanation of the facts they had collected so far.

"He was fanatical about avoiding peanut products. He had every single takeaway meal from the same Chinese restaurant. He had a special arrangement with the chef, who knew never to have peanut oil around when he was preparing Gary Norris's meals," Lexi told John as she scrunched up her face in thought.

"Well it only takes one slip-up," John pointed out as Sherlock stared furiously at his computer screen. What was he supposed to do to fix this if he didn't even know what he had done wrong? He didn't want to look like an idiot or make things worse. People always left after he messed up.

"You're right, but the chef swears he didn't slip up. He prepared that meal personally. He believes that someone put the peanut oil in Gary Norris's food after it left his kitchen. I'm starting to think he could be right," Lexi told John as Sherlock actually listened to the case. It sounded actually rather interesting now.

"Death by peanut oil. That would be a brilliant way to kill someone," John remarked and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"Mm," She hummed in agreement. "If Peter Talbott was murdered, the MO is consistent. Eliminate your target in a way the world thinks is an accident," Lexi told John as Sherlock heard the door opening downstairs. The creaking sound of footsteps on the stairs reached Sherlock's ears and he already knew who it was. Sherlock stood up and walked with his laptop down the hallway before he went into his room and slammed the door with a resounding bang behind him to announce that he had left the room. Mycroft would be able to see right through his calm exterior and that was when he would make things worse for him. Mycroft was always messing everything up for him or making things worse. Sherlock put his laptop down and pressed his ear to the door to listen to what was happening in the living room.

"Lexi," Sherlock heard Mycroft say as he presumably entered the flat.

"Mycroft I already know what you are going to say and I'm fine. Honestly, it's not a danger night. You would know if it was. Besides, I already talked to John, I'm perfectly fine," Lexi assured him and Sherlock frowned and furrowed his brows. Danger night? Why would this be a danger night for her? What had happened to Lexi between the restaurant and when she returned to Baker Street?

"Be that as it may, you'll understand if I keep surveillance on you tonight," Mycroft said, his voice muffled by the door. "With respect to Dr. Watson, I believe that I will be the judge of how "fine" you are," Mycroft told Lexi. Sherlock smirked to himself. That was not going to go over well with the Irish girl.

"Actually, Mycroft, what I need, I believe, is privacy tonight. I'm not going to relapse. Besides, if I wanted drugs, I could always just climb out the window, whether you're here or not," Lexi told him the anger evident in her voice. "I managed to get past Buckingham Palace's security once. What makes you think I couldn't get past your men as well?" Lexi asked him and Sherlock shook his head at the ruefully. Only Lexi MacKenna could break into Buckingham Palace right under Mycroft's nose. "And might I point out that you of all people should have more faith in me. Go. If it makes you happy, I'll take a spit test in the morning," Lexi finished and Sherlock assumed that she was now trying to push him out of the flat.

"Mm, Doctor Watson, you are in charge of her welfare this evening then. Should anything happen to her, you'll answer to me," Mycroft told John as Sherlock growled under his breath for the threat his brother was making against John. "Do give my best to Sherlock," Mycroft said and Sherlock growled again. He didn't need Mycroft checking up on him either.

"Are all meetings with Mycroft going to be like that?' John asked Lexi and Sherlock heard her laugh.

"You have no idea. That's Mycroft on a good day," Sherlock heard Lexi say before he stepped away from the door and sighed heavy pinching the bridge of his nose. He spent the next two and a half hours pacing the length of his room as he angrily and frustratedly tried to analyse everything that had happened and figure out what he might have done wrong. He couldn't figure out anything besides the fact that it all seemed to start with Lexi waking up on the couch with him. But why would John be angry at him for that? He had said back at the restaurant that they were just friends so it wasn't for some sentimental reason because he was interested in her. Sherlock made his way back into the living room, hopeful that if he listened to them for a bit longer he might discover a way to fix his current situation that he found himself in. He sat back down at his desk with his laptop as Lexi worked around him pinning pictures to the wall above the couch that she was connecting with string.

"Who are they?" John asked Lexi as he stopped behind her and helped her down off of the couch.

"Employees of Canon Ebersole who have died over the last ten years," Lexi told him as she picked up her laptop and clicked off some message which was flashing on her screen before Sherlock could read it.

"It is a big company. Odds are they're gonna lose some people along the way," John told Lexi as she stood back and viewed her work. She nodded at him in agreement.

"And some of these are probably just random, but there could be a pattern hidden in there," Lexi told John as she looked at all of the pictures, Sherlock viewing them as well as he listened to her. "All of these people have died in the last ten years. If there is someone at Canon Ebersole killing off its employees or someone with a grudge against the company killing them than some of these might not be just random deaths. Norris' death as you said was perfect, death by allergic reaction. As for Talbott's death," Lexi said as her phone pinged. She quickly pulled it out of her pocket and read the text that someone had sent her. "I knew it!" Lexi told John with delight and he frowned at her in confusion.

"Knew what?" John asked Lexi as Sherlock looked over the top of his laptop and watched the both of them with interest.

"That was Lestrade. Molly agreed to rush the tests of Peter Talbott's salad for me and there were trace amounts of heroin in it," Lexi told John who looked shocked by this. Sherlock continued to stare at the both of them. Heroine? Ah, that made since. The case had to do with drugs. That was why Mycroft thought it was a danger night and it explained what had happened to Lexi. It had brought back painful memories. Sherlock was glad it had been John with her rather than him. He would have been rubbish at trying to comfort her when he was struggling with his own sobriety. He was a lot less strong around drugs than she was.

"So…so that means he was murdered. You were right," John told Lexi and she grinned at him and laughed.

"Exactly, Talbott was murdered like I thought he was. We're going to Canon Ebersole tomorrow. I'm going to call another meeting of their board of directors," Lexi told John as she looked at all of her pictures.

"Can you do that? You don't even work there anymore," John asked Lexi and she looked back at him and raised one of her eyebrows.

"Not technically. But I think they're gonna want my help in trying to figure out whether there's a murderer working there," Lexi told John as she moved towards the hallway. "I'm off to bed. Thank you for your help today John, you are fantastic," She told him and he grinned at her compliment before she left him and slipped back into her room and closed the door behind her.

This left Sherlock and John alone together. As soon as John turned a glare on Sherlock looking like he was about to start talking, Sherlock jumped up and left his laptop before leaving the room without even saying a word to John. He stood in the hallway looking at Lexi's closed door before he entered his own room and closed his door behind him. He walked over to his bed and laid down in it for the first time in a while. He hadn't been sleeping much. He had been staying up lately to play Brahms's lullaby for Lexi through most of the night. He had noticed that on the nights he played he didn't hear Lexi tossing and turning in the throes of a nightmare. So, he played. He played until the first light of morning started creeping into the living room or until his fingers started aching. During this time, the music seemed to play itself as he entered his Mind Palace. It was on one of these nights that Lexi had first entered his Mind Palace and Sherlock knew that she was never going to leave. He was already completely done for and all it took was one little Irish girl name Lexi MacKenna.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

The next day, I woke early with John and we both got ready for our second meeting with the board of directors. Sherlock's door remained firmly shut and I saw neither hind nor hare of him all morning. John and I spent a few hours going through all of the people who had died at Canon Ebersole in the last ten years until I found three other people that matched the same MO as Talbott's and Norris' deaths. They all seemed like natural accidents, but they were all just too perfect to be accidents. We left the flat, dressed in our jumpers and jeans rather than in the corporate camouflage we had been trying for the day before. No more dresses or monkey suits. I was a consulting detective not a professional banker and John was a doctor not a man who wore a monkey suit. I taped a note Sherlock's laptop that we had headed out for the day so that he wouldn't forget that we probably wouldn't be back all day. I didn't know how much he actually listened to our conversation the night before. He had looked over at me a few times, but I still didn't know what was going on between us. He was so snappish and cold and I knew that something had to happen soon before I ended up killing him. I wasn't sure Mycroft would take too kindly to me murdering his little brother. We arrived at Canon Ebersole and were escorted upstairs to the conference room we had been in the day before where I was allowed to set up my little presentation I had thrown together that morning so I could present my theories about the case to the board of directors.

"Miles Durham," I told the room at large, including John as I presented the picture of the first man. "Former head trader in your Dublin office. Mr. Durham was a volunteer with wilderness search and rescue. He always filed his travel plans with the ranger office whenever he went camping," I told all of them before I was interrupted.

"We're busy people, Ms. MacKenna. What're we doing here?" The head of the board of directors asked me. I ignored his question and instead hit the remote, displaying the next picture. I had to show them all of the evidence first

"Maria Filipello. She ran your equities division in Edinburgh. She suffocated in 2005 when a natural gas line running into her house ruptured. Never been another problem with that brand of piping before or since," I told them as I hit the remote to display another picture as John hid a smile at how I was controlling the room. "Jason Parmer. He worked in your Cardiff office. Got a five million dollar bonus in 2009. Then drowned when swimming in a lake near his home in the countryside. The odd thing is, when Jason Parmer was in college, he was a beach lifeguard at Studland Beach in Dorset."

"Ah, respectfully, Ms. MacKenna, you, ah, found Peter, he OD'd, we're done," The head of the board of directors told me and I grinned in amusement. Ah, they were oh so precious, barely even informed about anything going on in their companies.

'_Is it nice not being us, must be so relaxing,'_ Sherlock said as he walked up beside me and stood with a smirk on his face.

'_Ah look, you're back,'_ I remarked as I looked up at the version of Sherlock my mind had conjured up and grinned. This was the second time now that I had imagined him standing next to me while on this case.

'_Obviously,'_ Sherlock told me before smirking wider. I couldn't help but smile at him as I turned back to the board of directors. Apparently my expression had gone funny because John was eyeing me wearily.

"Peter Talbott was murdered actually. The police are investigating now. I believe the man who killed him also killed your previous COO, Gary Norris," I told them as I hit the remote to display the fourth picture. I gestured to all of them as Sherlock walked through the room, deducing everyone and launching his deductions to me as I confirmed them with my own deductions. Even in my mind he was always Sherlock. "And these three unfortunate souls. Possibly one or two others, as well. Now, I can't find a plausible motive for anyone outside the company to have committed these murders. These are not crimes of passion, they're too well-concealed for that. They're crimes of opportunity. I think you may have a sociopath in your midst," I continued and Fowkes raised his eyebrows at me. "A particularly cunning, methodical killer. If I'm right, they wait, they analyse, and when the time is right, give themselves a leg up, and then they pounce."

"You're saying someone is killing their way up the ladder?" A woman asked me as she chuckled nervously, John shaking his head at me over my description of the murderer. I was a high functioning sociopath thank you very much. "That sounds insane to me."

"And I would love to be wrong. But someone did dose Peter Talbott's salad with heroin," I told the woman as Sherlock walked back over and stood beside me again. "As for the rest, you let me do my work. I'll need access to your records. If this person is here, I guarantee you I'll find them."

"We control billions of dollars' worth of assets, Ms. MacKenna. We can't give you access to these files, they're confidential," Fowkes told me and I held back a giggle as Sherlock walked over at him and started deducing him more closely. I wasn't sure why he suddenly had appeared in my Mind Palace or why he was there, but he was always there on the case when I needed him even if he wasn't physically there.

"I don't need to audit you, I just need to do some simple maths. There can't be that many people who worked in Dublin in 2003, Edinburgh in 2005, and Cardiff in 2009. If I can find this person quickly, I can wrap this up with the minimum of scandal," I told him and he stood up getting irritated with me.

"All right, enough. This is not necessary!" Fowkes told me and I saw John narrow his eyes at him as he tensed, getting ready for any shouting match or argument that might start soon.

"Were you listening to me? There may be a murderer at Canon Ebersole. I do believe that that is necessary," I told him before cut me off again. Sherlock and I rolled our eyes in unison before smirking at each other. From the look John was giving me I really had to remember that Sherlock wasn't actually there and I looked sort of crazy looking at someone that they couldn't see and making a bunch of weird facial expressions at them.

"There's not a killer. You know how I know that? Because the only person with the career path that you're describing is me! What are you saying, that I murdered, like what, like five people?" Fowkes told me as everyone gave him a funny look. I couldn't help but share a look with Sherlock.

'_Did you see that coming?'_ I asked him and he shook his head.

'_Hmm, no but then again you didn't,'_ Sherlock informed me and I shrugged before looking at Fowkes. Well, this was certainly unsuspected. I didn't know about minimum scandal, but I certainly guaranteed him that I was going to find the murderer.

"Well, this is a bit awkward, but … I would say you were a damn good suspect," I told Fowkes. Apparently, he didn't take that too well. John and I were escorted off of the premises by security and I looked back at John as we wanted by the curbing for a cab. "Well, that was tedious," I told John as Sherlock returned beside me.

"You had to do that didn't you?" John asked me as he finally got a cab to stop. We slid into the back seat and I shrugged at John.

"Well, you have to admit he is a rather good suspect. In fact, currently our only one. I just need to find out more about him to see if I'm right," I told John and he shook his head before his phone pinged. He took it out and read the text he had been sent before smiling slightly.

"Oooh what has John Watson smiling? Is it a girl?" I teased him as he looked up from his phone and sent me a glare.

"It's that girl I went on a date with, she wants to meet up for coffee," John told me before he told the cabbie the new address. "You have to go back to the flat and review the case anyway," John told me and I grinned at him before shaking my head.

"I get you tiger," I told him and he groaned as Sherlock and I laughed together at the man's discomfort. "I'm only teasing you John," I told John as we pulled up at the curb beside the coffee place. He got out of the cab, handing money to me to pay the cabbie for his half of the trip. "I want you home by ten mister!" I called after him as he looked back at me once and shut the door. I had the cabbie take me back to Baker Street and I paid him before entering the flat. Mrs. Hudson was off out so I climbed the stairs by myself wondering what mood I would find Sherlock in. I found that my hesitation was unwarranted because he wasn't even in. His bedroom door was open and the note had been taken off of his laptop so I officially had the flat to myself.

I turned on some classical opera music and danced about the flat as I used my laptop to hack into Canon Ebersole again. I got as far as printing a few files on Fowkes before Mycroft cut me off and locked me out. I sighed heavily. Mycroft monitored what I did since he knew of my hacking skills. It was something I picked up when I was younger. I had met a hacker on a serial killer case I was helping out with in America and she had taught me just about everything she had known. Of course, she worked for the FBI so it was legal for her to do it, but when I hacked into anything I had Mycroft and the British Government cutting me off. Of course, when Mycroft needed someone to hack something for him that was too confidential to trust someone other than me, he used my skills. I curled up on the couch with the files that I did have and started to review them as my mental Sherlock sat down in his chair across the room varying from watching me to entering his Mind Palace, occasionally the both of us talking about something I had found in the files. Fowkes didn't exactly look like the murderer, but he had the same career path as our murderer had and was the only one in the company that did. I got up after an hour or two and went to the kitchen for something to eat. I made some scrambled eggs and I had just finished putting them in a bowl when the doorbell rang downstairs. I sighed and picked up my fork before I went to answer the door. One of the boys had probably locked themselves out of the flat or Mrs. Hudson had.

I opened the door and before I could even register who it was and Fowkes stepped right inside past me. "I thought I'd bring you your check personally," Fowkes told me as I closed the door. I stood there watching him as he continued. "Also, we need to talk."

"Do we? I thought we were fine," I told him as I started up the stairs, munching on a bite of my eggs. He followed me up stairs and I escorted him into the living room, picking up a chair and setting it in front of John and Sherlock's chairs before I sat in Sherlock's chair. "Sit," I told him as I gestured to the chair.

"I didn't come here to sit and chat. I came here to end this," Fowkes told me as I took another bite of my eggs and nodded my head thoughtfully.

"Well that should be simple enough all you have to do is just confess. Saves us both a great deal of time and trouble. I am actually rather busy," I told Fowkes as mental Sherlock sat down in John's chair and adopted his prayer position as we sat listening to him.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me today? Do you know what it takes just to survive at a place like Canon Ebersole?" Fowkes demanded of me and I tilted my head to the side as I regarded him.

"I'd think avoiding you would be a good start," I told him as I sassily crossed my legs at the knee and chew on my eggs, Sherlock smirking at me.

"I never killed anyone," Fowkes told me before he walked around the chair I had set out for him and sat down. "I went to parochial school, Ms. MacKenna," He told me before he sighed. "Pretty much broke every commandment they ever taught me. Father Ray probably isn't very proud of me, but then again Father Ray doesn't have a country house. I was inches away from becoming COO, which everybody knows is where they groom you for the big chair. And you accuse me of murder. You think everybody in that place isn't talking?" He asked me as I forked some eggs into my mouth completely unimpressed. "Gossip's poison in that place. Doesn't matter that I'm completely innocent. I'm never gonna get that job."

"Sorry, are you done? Every time you say "innocent" I tune out," I asked him causing Sherlock to chuckle. I bit my lip to hide my own smirk.

"In that case, I'm just going to have to prove it to you, aren't I? Miles Durham, the first of these so-called murders. He disappeared during a camping trip. August 2003, right?" Fowkes asked me and I nodded once in confirmation. "Left August 7th. Was supposed to return August 9th," He said as he opened a folder and removed an orange envelope and handed it to me.

"What is this?" I asked him as I took the envelope from him after leaning back and putting my bowl down on Sherlock's desk.

"Medical records. Mine. I had elective surgery August 6th, 2003. There were, ah, complications. I wasn't released until August 12th."

"Liposuction. Rhytidoplasty. You had a face lift," I said as I flipped through the files. I couldn't help but grin at myself. I had been right in that deduction than.

"See many jowly men on the cover of Barron's, Ms. MacKenna? My point is, I couldn't have murdered Miles Durham," Fowkes told me as I looked up at him. "I'll tell you something else. Dan Cho? The arrogant little… piss-ant? No, he didn't work for Canon Ebersole in 2003. Because he had a summer internship with us while he was in business school. Worked at our Dublin office," He told me as he opened the folder again and pulled a white folder out of it which he also handed to me. "Here's his file. We hired him in 2005, sent him to Edinburgh. You think there's a sociopath working for us? Let me let you in on a little secret, Ms. MacKenna. We're all sociopaths," Fowkes told me as I flipped through the file before looking up at him with a grin.

"I know, I am one," I told Fowkes and he gave me and odd look. "I'm a highly functioning sociopath, so when I say that I know you all are, I do honestly know. Now, I do apologize, but I have a murderer to find, unless you would like to be the next person who gets murdered," I told Fowkes with a grin as I got up and escorted him to the door. I grabbed my jacket and scarf and pulled them as I followed him down the stairs taking the files with me. I now had places I needed to be.

"Ms. MacKenna," Fowkes started but I held up and hand, cutting him off as I flagged a cab. I slid inside the back of my cab without another word and told the cabbie to take me to Scotland Yard before I shut the door as Fowkes glared at me from the curb. I waved at him as the cab took off into the lane of travel. I grinned to myself and shook my head. I got up to the Yard and managed to slip past Anderson and Donovan and get into my office, shutting the blinds so I would have some privacy. I knew it was only a matter of time before Sherlock would have returned to the flat and now that I had extra files to look over I needed some Sherlock free time in order to be able to solve the case. I was so close to finding out the answer. So, Fowkes wasn't the murderer, but I still like him as a suspect.

I groaned as I twirled in my chair looking at the file every time I passed it. "This doesn't make any sense," I complained as mental Sherlock joined me again. "Yes, Dan Cho interned in Dublin during the summer of 2003. But he didn't benefit from the first murder. The company didn't even hire him until two years later," I told Sherlock who nodded at me. "Let's say Miles Durham's disappearance was a murder. Maybe Dan Cho killed him to get a charge out of it. The murder was the benefit," I theorized and Sherlock shook his head at me and I groaned knowing that wasn't it either. "Alright, people who enjoy killing like to share their enthusiasm with others. They want everyone to know there's a murderer out there. Even after he was hired, he didn't benefit from the deaths nearly as much as Jim Fowkes, but he didn't do the first one."

'_He sought to gain from the murders, but didn't commit the first one. Use your brain, what was the same in all of the case?'_ Sherlock asked me as he adopted his prayer pose and closed his eyes, sitting down in the chair in the back corner of the room. I stopped spinning, feeling slightly dizzy as I did so and looked at him, sighing heavily.

'_Um, they all died of something that looked like an accident,_' I started and Sherlock nodded at me before opening one of his eyes lazily, gesturing for me to continue. _'Fowkes worked in all of the offices at the same time all of the employees died_,' I continued and Sherlock nodded again. '_Fowkes was the only one who would really gain from their deaths,' _I said and Sherlock opened both eyes, staring back at me. I frowned. '_He wasn't the only one to benefit from their deaths,'_ I said and he nodded. '_But who else could gain from their deaths?_' I asked Sherlock in confusion and he hopped out of his chair, walking over to me, standing beside me with his hands clasped behind his back before he gestured to the files Fowkes had given me.

'_You've already seen the answer, there was one other person that would have gained from their deaths,_' Sherlock told me as I picked up the file and scoured over it again looking for what Sherlock was talking about. I scanned the Fowkes' medical files before I saw something rather interesting under emergency contact.

"Donna," I said aloud, Sherlock disappearing. Donna was with him in Dublin during his time there and now she was here with him in London. She had moved with him, the only other person who had the same career path and sought to gain from the murders. The more Fowkes moved up in the company the better pay she got and a secretary was someone everyone always forgot about. They were like the cabbies of the corporate world. I remembered what Jeff had said, maybe more of us should branch out.

I grabbed my coat and scarf and pulled them on as I rushed out of my office nearly running right into Lestrade. "Woah there, where are you off to in such a hurry?" Lestrade asked me as he caught me and steadied me as I tripped coming to a halt before him.

"Baker Street, I just figured out the case," I told him as I darted around him waving at him over my shoulder as I ran out of the division, pulling my mobile out as I took the stairs two at a time and rang John. He answered on the third ring.

"Lexi? Where are you, Sherlock and I are back at flat, but you weren't here," John asked her sounding slightly worried.

"I'm heading back in a bit. I figured out the case! It was brilliant, look, I have to go, I'll be back at the flat soon," I assured John before hanging up and getting into a cab. "Canon Ebersole," I told the cabbie before sitting back and watching the London streets rush by me outside the window. No one ever suspected the underlings, those who did all of the work. It was a perfect guise for a murderer. The criminal class was getting smart and as the cabbie had said more and more of the people who went completely unnoticed were branching out and becoming serial killers. The criminal class was changing and that meant we had to too. Now, all I had to do was pay a little visit to see Donna, and this case would be all wrapped up. Little did I know that things were not going to go as I planned.


	32. Sentiment

**(A/N) Oh my stars! Are we really at chapter thirty? Not surprising as I just finished chapter fifty yesterday. I'm writing ahead so I am all set when I go back to college soon. Don't want to leave you hanging when exams and papers are due. Something is about to change drastically during this chapter and the Blind Banker starts next Sunday! I know, finally! I'm posting this a day early for Ames who is sadly a bit ill. Hope this makes you feel better sweetie. I think it shall. *winks and wiggles eyebrows***

**A quick thing I want to note before we get onto the chapter. The Resident Sociopaths of 221B is the only story I plan to write on as of this time. And I bet you're fussing and moaning now. Typical. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The reason this is the only story I plan to write on here is because as soon as I finish season three, or at least writing it, I'm going to start updating this more frequently. After I finish season three this story goes on hiatus until season four at which point I will be going back to writing this story for you all, probably about two weeks after I get to see the first episode. During the time I am not writing this story I begin work on my two novels, The Great Game which features Lexi MacKenna in Victorian London with our great consulting detective and Love and Monsters a modern day adaption of the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. So, if you are a fan of my work, look to the future for books published under my author's name Melody Morrison. Like I said, this is the only story I plan on writing at this time, but things can change in the future. **

**I'll see you all here again next Sunday when we begin the Blind Banker. From that case and on the story starts moving rather quickly so we will be seeing from Moriarty soon. All my love sweeties. **

**-M.M.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty- Sentiment<strong>

"**To a great mind, nothing is little,' remarked Holmes, sententiously."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet**

On the cab ride over to Canon Ebersole, I weighed my current options. One, I could text John and wait for him to meet me at Canon Ebersole before I went to confront Donna or two, I could go in myself and confront her. That seemed like the better of the two options. For one, by the time John got there Donna probably would have left for the day and two, Donna was older than I was and in terms of physically being able to handle myself I had the advantage. I didn't think I would need John in order to confront her. We could do this just the two of us, woman to woman. Part of me also wanted to prove to Sherlock that I didn't need him to solve a case. That I could do this all by myself even without John. I arrived back at Canon Ebersole and managed to sneak past security which was one of my main specialties. It only took a little flirting after that to get one of the new interns to tell me where Donna's office was. I found out that she had just left for the day and I managed to catch up with her just as she was hitting the button to call the lift.

"Excuse me. Donna. It is Donna, right?" I asked the woman as she looked back at me then turned back to the lift. "No one ever remembers the secretary, do they, Donna?" I asked her and she turned back to me with an expression of distaste.

"Excuse me, what?" Donna asked me affronted and I continued on. Oh, I knew it was her, there was no denying it now.

"As a career choice it has its limits, but then it does afford one a certain cloak of invisibility. Take one of my other cases for example, cabbie, you might have read about it in the papers. It's exactly why I thought of you, the cases were similar. Both of you had something to gain, a certain level of animosity as well," I told her as I rocked on the balls of my feet.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm pretty sure that Mr. Fowkes had you banned from the building," Donna told me and I nodded my head enthusiastically.

"Oh to be sure he did, but then I had a chat with him and I think we cleared things up. Even so, I don't like following the rules, besides you're not exactly Fort Knox, it was easier to get in here than Buckingham Palace," I told her and she gave me an odd look. I continued on ignoring her look. "You've been with him a long time, haven't you? Fowkes? Until tonight I just assumed that you'd come to work with him after he'd moved to London. But then I saw your name as the emergency contact for a surgical procedure he'd had in Dublin," I said as I nodded at her knowingly. "You followed him to Edinburgh, too, didn't you?"

"Mr. Fowkes is a good boss. We're loyal to each other," Donna answered me proudly. Loyalty only got you so far. It wasn't about loyalty, no, it was about Donna advancing her own career as well. It was never about helping Fowkes. The man as it would seem had no clue that Donna was even helping him climb his way up the corporate ladder. It all worked out well for him however and having a good security was what you needed in such an important role. That guaranteed that Fowkes would take Donna with him. She had been an asset to his career thus far, there would be no point in getting rid of her.

"He certainly had a meteoric rise. And he probably owes some of that to you, doesn't he Donna?" I asked her nodding again. "Jim Fowkes wasn't the only one to benefit from the deaths at Canon Ebersole, was he? No, you would also benefit from the deaths. See I didn't get it at first. I thought that only Fowkes could have benefitted from their deaths but then I did some digging. Like I said, the cases were similar. You see the cab driver gained commission for every person he killed, money that would go to his children after he died. You however benefitted from a pay increase every time Fowkes got promoted. As just a secretary, there isn't really any way for you to move up the corporate ladder here at Canon Ebersole, but if Fowkes did, that guaranteed you a pay increase. Of course, you are loyal to each other as you mentioned. You knew Fowkes would take you with him. Every leading man needs a secretary to help him do the less desirable parts of their work, the paperwork. You proved to him that you got your job done well, even could handle the extra work load when he got promoted. You benefitted nearly as much as Fowkes did."

"Do I need to call security?" Donna asked me, her expression completely blank. Well, it would be. She was a sociopath after all. She didn't care about the others, no, their deaths were all easy enough to plan and execute. They would all have to be natural causes too. Slip heroine into salad dressing because she would never be able to take him out physically herself. Kill a man with a peanut allergy. Drown a man. All easy ways to kill people for a woman. I should have noticed the feminine touches to the murders earlier on.

"By all means, do. I love a man in uniform, especially black coats. Let's loop them into the conversation. I am sure they would be just as interested as I am," I told Donna with a smile. She didn't respond to me as the lift arrived and she stepped into it. "No? Didn't think so," I told her as I followed her into the lift. "I admit, you did a rather good job hiding it. I would have thought it was Fowkes at first, did in fact, but then Fowkes gave me a rather interesting piece of evidence. A medical file, one from his surgery in Dublin. You were listed as his emergency contact. It was quite obvious when I looked at it in the proper light. Every time Jim got promoted, you had something to gain, a pay raise…stock options. The company even contributes to your retirement plan now," I told Donna as the both of us walked off of the lift in the parking garage. I followed after her trying to get her to confess before I brought her into Lestrade.

"So? I've given them years of my life," Donna snapped at me and I nodded my head in understanding.

"Must be quite a feeling, steering the fate of a giant company from your tiny little cubicle," I told her as we stopped in front of her car. She turned back to me furiously.

"Get away from me."

"The question is, did your boss know or were you working alone? If you collaborated, it would behoove you to start talking," I told her as I clasped my hands in front of me. "First one to fess up gets a shorter sentence. Of course, I don't think that is going to happen. As nice as Fowkes seems, he is rather clueless. I don't believe he knew anything and I would be right, wouldn't I?" I asked Donna with my usual flare.

"I've seen executives like you come and go. A little bit of smarts, a whole lot of ego," Donna told me and I laughed at that. Executive? I was far from that. Some might even say I was barely professional.

"Well take my word, you've never seen anyone like me. I'm not an executive. Did they even tell you what I was? I'm a consulting detective one of only two in the world. I invented the job," I told Donna proudly and she sneered at me.

"Oh sure I have. My bosses use five-thousand-dollar suits to get attention. You use a scarf and your coat collar," Donna told me and I chuckled once as did Donna. "You're so proud of yourself for what you think you discovered. You just couldn't wait to tell me. Even if it meant following me into an empty parking garage," Donna told me as she pulled something from her bag. I got only a second to recognize it as a Taser before I reached up to try and disarm her. She anticipated my reaction and shoved the Taser into my hand. The volts of electricity coursed through me and my skin felt like it was on fire before I feel against Donna's car and collapsed on the ground. I was not expecting her to have that. Before I passed out the only thing I could think of was that John was expecting me back at Baker Street soon. When I didn't show up, he would know something was wrong and somehow, someone would know to contact Mycroft. As soon as I disappeared off of his grid, he would already have people searching for me. As much as I was upset with Sherlock, I trusted him to be able to put together what he knew. He would figure it out.

I awoke, laying in the backseat of Donna's car as she drove. Donna ran over a pothole in the road and my head slammed into the car door, a groan escaping me as I grimaced. I wrung my hands slightly and tried to move only to find that my ankles were zip tied together and my hands handcuffed together, the cuff just managing to fit over my cast. I could feel my knuckles straining slightly in the cast for having been in the current position they were in for so long. I blinked around blearily, my body still weak and limp from the effects of the Taser. I shouldn't have just assumed that she wouldn't have any means of defending herself. That had been a critical error on my part. My hubris had gotten in the way of my better judgement and now I had to rely on the fact that Mycroft would realize that I had fallen off of his grid. I managed to pull myself up enough to check the time. Nearly forty five minutes had passed. Normally if one of Mycroft's men didn't see me for at least an hour, he would be alerted to the fact that I was considered missing.

"You're awake. Good" Donna said as I groaned and laid back, my head swimming. I was still a bit disoriented and black spots were dancing in front of my vision.

"You know, I've pursued my fair share of killers, Ms. Kaplan," I told her as I wriggled my ankles again, testing the strength of the zip ties. I concluded that getting out of them was not going to be an option. "Most of them…most of them are dreary people, but you I…I have a certain fascination with. You have… such initiative. Such patience. I don't think this is going to work out for you though," I told Donna trying to engage her to stall for time. I only had to keep her talking long enough for fifteen minutes to pass. I looked around the backseat of the car, taking in all of my available assets. I spotted a packet of papers tucked into a compartment in the back of the seat in front of me. "Too rash," I told Donna as I leaned forward and managed to slip a paperclip off of one of the papers before resting back in the seat and sliding the paperclip up into the sleeve of my jumper to hide it from her until the proper moment.

"Did you tell anyone about me? Or did you just rush right down to grandstand?" Donna asked me and I looked over at her in contemplation.

"I called my colleagues," I told her and she interrupted me with a laugh.

"No, you didn't. We're going to be at Mr. Fowkes's house in a couple of minutes. In a week or two, after someone calls in an anonymous tip, the police are going to find your body buried on the property," Donna told me as I began working on the lock with my paper clip. This was why I learnt skills that seemed useless like lock picking. Skills like this were never useless in my line of work. "And then everyone will know that you were right, and that Mr. Fowkes killed you before you could prove it."

"You're going to frame your boss. Daniel Cho is going to get that promotion. I imagine he'll need an experienced executive secretary to watch his back as he rises to the top," I told Donna as I worked more on the lock. It was going to be tricky with just a paperclip, but I should have no problem once I figured out the right way twist it in the lock.

"I was wrong about you. You are smart," Donna told me and I laughed at that. I started Uni at twelve and held four PHDs. I would like to at least consider myself smart.

"Oh that's quite a compliment, coming from you," I told her sarcastically. "Canon Ebersole should make you the managing director," I told her rolling my eyes as Sherlock appeared beside me in the backseat. Oh lovely, just what I needed. '_Enjoying yourself?_' I asked the smirking detective as I tried on unlocking my hands.

'_Obviously,'_ He told me and I glared at him. Even when Sherlock wasn't actually here he was annoying. I rolled my eyes at him and stuck my tongue out as I struggled to try and manipulate the paperclip.

"They don't have the kind of imagination for that kind of move," Donna told me, the car stopping. My phone started ringing and from the ringtone I immediately knew who it was. Donna picked up my phone, staring down at the caller ID. "John. That's the man that you're always with, right? That's the fifth time he's called in the last twenty minutes."

"He won't stop either. I'm sure you've had your fair share of clingy boyfriends," I lied as my mobile continued ringing. I had an idea, I just had to make her buy it. "I did tell him I would be home soon. He always freaks out when I'm not home right away. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets the police involved," I told Donna and she looked back at me worriedly. My mobile fell silent once again and Donna looked at me, her face hardening again.

"This how this is going to go down missy," Donna told me as she suddenly raised a gun after digging it out of her handbag. What was she Mary Poppins the serial killer!? Was her bag bigger on the inside or something? "I'm going to unlock these," Donna said as she leaned back and unlocked my handcuffs. I had just enough time to hide the paperclip before she saw it which I was thankful for. "And we'll cut these," She said, using kitchen scissors to cut the zip ties away from my ankles," While she did this she kept the gun trained on me. Unfortunately, unlike the cabbie, this gun was very much real. "Now, we'll both get out of the car," Donna said as she gestured for me to go for the door. I kept my movements slow partially because I was still too weak from my shock therapy to move fast and two because when people felt threatened they did something stupid and I was not in the mood to get shot today. We made it out of the car and Donna led me a little ways from the car, the muzzle of the gun pressed into my back. I jumped suddenly when my mobile started ringing again.

"You weren't kidding about clingy," Donna remarked and I sighed in relief. Maybe my plan would work this time. I crossed my fingers on my good hand. I had one chance at this.

"Seriously, he will get the police involved. Last time he did when my phone died and I was a few minutes late coming home. Plus, I have friends on the police force. Mention my name and they will come running. Just let me answer. I can tell him everything is okay," I offered her and she looked at me sceptically before she handed me over my phone.

"No funny business, one wrong word and I will shoot you. I don't think Johnny boy would like having to hear that do you?" Donna asked me and I nodded to her in understanding before I answered my phone raising it to me ear as I could already hear John's frantic shouting on the other line.

"Lexi? Lexi! Oh thank God! Where are you? Mycroft called Sherlock and told him that you fell of his grid. I've been trying to call you for the last twenty minutes. Where are you? Are you alright?" John asked me quickly and I plastered a smile on my face, laughing slightly as I tried to put on a show, the muzzle of the gun in my back was incentive enough.

"Woah, slow down there John," I told him and he quieted down. "I'm okay, tell Mycroft to stop being such a hypochondriac. I'm heading home soon. I stopped at the store on my way back. Sherlock was complaining that we didn't have any of the biscuits he liked. I couldn't get the brand he normally buys. I think the one I got was Vatican Cameos," I said turning to look at Donna and rolling my eyes mouthing men to her before I turned back around. "Yeah, it was defiantly Vatican Cameos or something like that. Anyway, I'll see you soon, I'm stuck in traffic, it's absolutely killer," I told him before pausing, cutting him off as he tried to start speaking again. "Yup, I love you too. Bye," I said and he called my name once more before I hung up.

"Hand it over," Donna told me and I turned around slowly before I slapped my phone back in her outstretched hand. We stood there, me glaring at her and she smirking back at me.

I stood straight as I stared down the barrel of the loaded gun. I had gotten the message to John. Now, all I could do was hope that John would remember what Vatican Cameos meant and would tell Sherlock. I knew that he could figure out the case like I had. I trusted Sherlock beyond anyone else, even more than Mycroft. He could do this. Don't solve the case, save the life. I was counting on Sherlock Holmes to save mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Third Person POV <strong>

Sherlock had woken up later than normal that morning only to find Lexi's note that she and John had already left the flat. Sherlock had spent the morning contemplating over what his Mind Palace Lexi had told him and he was no closer to figuring out the answer as to why Lexi was in his Mind Palace than he was to figuring out why everyone was mad at him suddenly. Sherlock had left the flat and had gone to clear his head by taking a few small cases that had come through his website. All of them were boring cases of unfaithful husbands, missing people who really weren't missing, or odd cases like the woman claiming she had met a vampire. It had been tedious and Sherlock had returned to the flat in the middle of the day to only find John. Sherlock would have hoped that things would have cleared themselves up, but that didn't seem to be the case since John kept sending glares his way every few seconds as he tried to type up case notes on his laptop.

"What?" Sherlock finally snapped at John.

"Nothing," John told him as he made for his bedroom.

"No, what? Why do you keep looking at me like that? Both of you?" Sherlock demanded John irritably and the shorter man turned around with a disbelieving smile on his face.

"You are joking aren't you?" John asked Sherlock incredulously and the detective stared back at him blankly. "You honestly have no clue why we would be mad at you?" John asked Sherlock again receiving a blank stare once again. "Lexi's afraid she crossed a line with you and she's pissed off with the way you're treating her and I'm pissed at you because of the way you're treating her," John explained to the detective who furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Crossed a line?" Sherlock questioned John and John stared back at him with raised eyebrows. Was he really that clueless?

"On the couch…with you…sleeping," John said slowly before seeing Sherlock's blank stare. "Of for God sake's! She thinks you are angry with her because you fell asleep on the couch together!" John nearly shouted at him.

"What, why would I be upset with her?" Sherlock asked him and it was John's turn to stare back at the detective blankly. "And why would she be angry at me? I haven't been treating her any differently," Sherlock asked John frowning. He hadn't been treating her differently. "It's you that's been acting differently. She wouldn't even look at me and both of you don't want me here," Sherlock said and John heard the note of some emotion in Sherlock's voice before the detective glared back at John. John sighed heavily.

This seemed like some great big misunderstanding to him. Sherlock thought Lexi wasn't looking at him because she was angry at him and that he was angry with him and Lexi thought Sherlock was angry with her. Instead of talking to one another, Lexi and Sherlock had assumed what the other was feeling instead of actually confirming it for themselves, dragging John into the middle of it. Of course he was going to take Lexi's side. In his eyes she would have been in the right in this case. Why did they both have to be so difficult? They were both so stubborn that instead of talking like normal people they kept their feelings to themselves and refused to acknowledge the problem.

"I think this was one big misunderstanding," John said just as his mobile started ringing. He looked back at Sherlock before taking his phone out of his pocket and answering it. "Lexi? Where are you, Sherlock and I are back at flat, but you weren't here," John asked Lexi slightly worried for the Irish girl. When he had gotten back to the flat he had found her bowl of half eaten eggs and no note as to where she might have gone. He tried to tell himself that everything was okay, she was a big girl and could take care of herself after all.

"I'm heading back in a bit. I figured out the case! It was brilliant, look, I have to go, I'll be back at the flat soon," Lexi assured John before hanging up. John lowered his phone and stared at it incredulously.

"What, what is it?" Sherlock demanded John again and the army doctor looked up at his phone at him before shaking his head.

"Lexi, she says she solve the case and she's heading back to the flat," John told Sherlock before shrugging. "I'm going to go…," John said pointing over towards the stairs that led up to his room.

"Fine, fine," Sherlock snapped, waving him off. John shook his head at him in exasperation before he left the consulting detective along. Sherlock moved over to the couch and found his stash of cigarettes hidden in a Persian slipper under the couch. He crossed back over to the window, opening it slightly before he lit his cigarette and took the first drag, delighting in the burst of nicotine. He needed more than patches to solve this problem. So, Lexi thought she had crossed some line with him and that he was angry with her which in turn made her angry at him for apparently the way he was treating her, thus making John angry as well. It made no sense whatsoever to Sherlock. Why would she think she had crossed a line with him for sleeping on the couch? Sherlock just assumed that it was some socially unacceptable thing. After he finished two cigarettes, he crossed back over to the couch and laid down, entering his Mind Palace.

It was in this position the John found Sherlock when he came downstairs nearly twenty minutes later. He was starting to get worried about Lexi. She still hadn't gotten back to the flat yet and he knew it shouldn't have taken her that long to get back in the first place. "Sherlock? Sherlock has Lexi contacted you or anything?" John asked the consulting detective who cracked one eye open lazily.

"Hmm, no," He told John before closing his eyes again. John checked his own mobile. He hadn't missed any of her calls.

"I'll just ring her than, shall I? See where she is," John said, speaking to himself now since the detective was no longer listening. John called Lexi and waited and waited as the phone just kept ringing before going to voicemail. "Ah, hi Lexi, it's John. I was just ringing you to see if you're alright since you haven't made it back to the flat yet. Ah, just call me when you get this. Cheers," John said before hanging up. "Odd, she didn't answer," John said as he looked down at his mobile, Sherlock cracking one eye open again and then closing it. Minutes turned into half an hour and John still didn't hear back from Lexi. He rang her several other times, but each time he only got her voice message. He really started to worry about her. It had been almost an hour and she still hadn't made it back to the flat. It was when Sherlock's mobile finally rang that John got hopeful. The consulting detective popped up instantly before growling as he saw the caller ID. John's face fell, whoever was calling was most certainly not Lexi and if Sherlock's look of malice was any indication, John knew who it was.

"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock's spat into his phone. Why was Mycroft calling him now?

"Lexi has fallen off of my grid. None of my trials on her have been able to locate her for an hour. Is she with you?" Mycroft asked his brother and Sherlock immediately snapped his head towards John who looked back at him in confusion.

"No, she was supposed to be back an hour ago," Sherlock told his brother his words losing their usual bite. Where was she, especially if Mycroft couldn't find her?

"We're searching for her. If you find anything…," Mycroft said wearily before trailing off. It was the only time Sherlock had ever heard worry in his brother's voice.

"I'll call you," Sherlock assured him before hanging up.

"What's going on?' John asked the consulting detective as Sherlock went over to his desk, trying to figure out if Lexi might have left anything early that might tell him where he had gone.

"Lexi fell off my brother's grid for more than an hour," Sherlock told John as he looked up at him. It was the first time John Watson ever saw worry on Sherlock's face. "Try ringing her again," He told John who complied, getting her voice mail once again.

"She's still not answering," John told Sherlock who let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. "You don't think…?" John asked Sherlock, not able to finish that question.

"Keep trying," Sherlock told John and he tried once more. Suddenly he heard someone pick up on the other line.

"Lexi? Lexi! Oh thank God! Where are you? Mycroft called Sherlock and told him that you fell of his grid. I've been trying to call you for the last twenty minutes. Where are you? Are you alright?" John asked Lexi quickly, frowning when he heard her laughing slightly.

"Woah, slow down there John," Lexi told him and he quieted down listening intently to her. "I'm okay, tell Mycroft to stop being such a hypochondriac. I'm heading home soon. I stopped at the store on my way back. Sherlock was complaining that we didn't have any of the biscuits he liked. I couldn't get the brand he normally buys. I think the one I got was Vatican Cameos," Lexi said and John looked over at Sherlock in confusion the detective staring right back. "Yeah, it was defiantly Vatican Cameos or something like that," Lexi said and then it finally clicked. Vatican Cameos. She was in danger. "Anyway, I'll see you soon, I'm stuck in traffic, it's absolutely killer," Lexi told him before pausing, cutting him off as he tried to ask her where she was. "Yup, I love you too. Bye," Lexi said and John called her name desperately before she hung up.

"What's is it?" Sherlock demanded John as the army doctor stared down at his mobile in horror. "What did she say," Sherlock prompted before striding forward and grabbing John by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "John, what did she say!?"

"Vatican Cameos," John told him, finally snapping out of the initial shock. Sherlock paled slightly if that was possible. John was surprised to see Sherlock actually showing emotion, but then again, John had noticed that they seemed to be getting closer lately. John was not one to make assumptions, but it did look like they were getting more cosy with one another.

"What did she say, the exact wording?" Sherlock asked John as he strode over to his desk and picked up his mobile. "Come on John! What did she say?!" Sherlock shouted at the army doctor and he finally answered him.

"Something about biscuits. She said she stopped at the store to get you biscuits because you were complaining. Said she couldn't get the brand you normally liked and got one called Vatican Cameos. Then she said 'yeah, definitely Vatican Cameos.' She also said she would be home soon, but the traffic was killer," John told Sherlock heavily as the detective grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down the message.

"She was probably held at gun point or in some way was forced to tell you that she was alright," Sherlock told John, seemingly talking to himself. John doubted that Sherlock was actually paying attention to him anymore. "Her word choice, what she said. She was sending a message without sending one. Sherlock, obviously she meant that she needed me to know it. Vatican Cameos," Sherlock said as he hurriedly unlocked his phone, scrolling through his apps. "Traffic, why mention traffic? Maybe she's in a car, track the traffic in the city and we can pin point her location?" Sherlock muttered as he checked on the traffic conditions in the city. "No traffic anywhere in this city so why mention traffic? Why?!" Sherlock growled in frustration.

"She said the traffic was killer, what if that was what she was trying to say?" John asked Sherlock, looking at the way Sherlock was pulling at his curls and feeling slightly worried for the consulting detective.

"Sherlock, Vatican Cameos, killer," Sherlock said suddenly looking up. "She was trying to tell me she was in trouble and with the killer. But who, whose the killer?" Sherlock shouted in frustration. He been looking around the flat, trying to find case files, something he could look through.

"When she called the first time, I heard noises in the background, office noises and then cars, she was leaving some place," John offered and Sherlock immediately turned to him.

"The Yard! She has her office there. Come along John!" Sherlock shouted at John as he grabbed his coat and scarf and pulled them on as he descended the stairs three at a time with the army doctor behind him, pulling on his own coat. "TAXI!" Sherlock called, steeping right out into the road and stopping a taxi. Both men climbed into the cab, slamming the doors shut behind them. "Police business. Scotland Yard and step on it!" Sherlock shouted at the cabbie who took off, speeding down the road, slightly afraid of the tall man and his short companion who both looked like they were ready for some sort of battle.

John Watson hurried out of the cab with Sherlock Holmes, throwing the bills in the direction of the cabbie as the detective and the army doctor stormed into Scotland Yard. They took the stairs two even three at a time as they stormed up to Lestrade's division with determined grimaces on their faces. Donovan made to tell them off or stop them, Sherlock really didn't care which, both were a waste of his time, but one glare at her from John sent her skittering away from the both of them. John was in full army mode and the detective looked no less imposing beside the shorter man. They strode into Lestrade's office without even knocking, surprising the man as they stood there, chest heaving from their recent exertion or from anger, Lestrade couldn't tell which. Lestrade straightened up in his chair, looking at John and Sherlock and instantly he could tell that something was wrong with the way they were acting. They looked as if they had practically run all the way there and technically they had. Lestrade was confused to just see the detective and the army doctor and he was waiting for Lexi to come walking through the door at any second to tell the boys off for leaving her behind. When she didn't Lestrade's face instantly paled.

"What happened?" Lestrade asked the detective and army doctor worriedly. There was only one thing that Lestrade could think of that would get Sherlock to even react like he was. The man looked as if he was ready to face a battle, one where he would gladly cut down anything in his path. Lestrade noted than both men looked like they were on a mission.

"Lexi," Was the only thing Sherlock said as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Lestrade swore under his breath. That one word held so much emotion in Sherlock's voice that Lestrade was surprised. He had never seen the man like he was right there before him. For once, Sherlock Holmes seemed slightly human.

"I'm going to need slightly more than that," Lestrade told them carefully knowing that Sherlock and John were already in bad enough moods as it was and he really didn't want to have to deal with either of them right now. His main concern was finding out what happened to Lexi.

"She fell off my brother's grid over an hour ago. John finally managed to get through to her. She told him Vatican Cameos," Sherlock said and Lestrade normally would have made a comment about how he wasn't stupid and Sherlock didn't have to talk to him like he was. Right now though he was willing to just sigh in exasperation and carry on trying to actually get information out of one of them.

"Vatican Cameos?" He asked them to clarify and John was the one to answer him.

"It's her duress code. She told me Vatican Cameos, definitely Vatican Cameos. She also said she would be home soon but the traffic was killer. Sherlock checked, there is no traffic anywhere in the city right now," John explained calming himself slightly. He couldn't help but be worried for Lexi, she was still in her cast and wherever she was she was in danger and they had no clue at all how to help her. Mycroft alerted them that she has disappeared off of his grid completely and the last place she had been seen was in a cab before the cameras lost her. For all they knew, they could already be too late.

"So that means…," Lestrade said before Sherlock cut him off with an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why out of all the times did Lestrade have to choose now to be so completely slow with the uptake? It was blindingly obvious what her message had meant.

"She is in danger and with the killer," Sherlock snapped at him and Lestrade held his hands up in surrender. "John tried to ring back but her phone was turned off so we can't track her that way," Sherlock told him as Lestrade got up from his seat and looked at the men.

"Then what do you need from me? I can't track her with her phone off either, she could be anywhere," Lestrade told them feeling less that useless. He couldn't find her in time, not if her phone was off. London was a large city and she could be anywhere.

"You've known her longer than we have. Before she disappeared she called me, said she had figured out the case. Where would she go? If we can figure out where she might have went Sherlock might be able to find out where she is," John told Lestrade, shuffling on his feet, his hands still clenched tight in his anxiety over Lexi's wellbeing.

"I don't know how she works. I've known her for seven years yeah, but she's never the same from day to day," Lestrade told them and Sherlock made a scoffing sound. "Look," Lestrade said getting irritated. It wasn't like he knew everything about her for bloody sakes. She didn't talk much about herself. "The only thing I can think of is that if she figured it out she would have went to confront the killer herself. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it and certainly wouldn't be the last. She was in her office looking over some files before she left here about two hours ago. She told me she was heading back to Baker Street," Lestrade told them as he led them out of his office and into Lexi's which Lestrade kept there for her as incentive for her to come back.

Sherlock immediately went over to her desk and started riffling through all of the papers she had on it trying to find something that would tell him what she had discovered and where she had went. He needed to think. What did she pick up on? He was right in thinking that they both deduced differently. She saw the connections amongst people, he saw the connections between the facts. It was why they worked well solving cases together, except he hadn't worked on this case with her. So, what connection had she found this time? Sherlock was actually regretting arguing with her back at the flat. It was why she had left to go to the Yard in the first place and why she had decided to go after the killer alone. It's why she had worked this case alone if Sherlock really had to admit fault. Sherlock was bad at all of this friend stuff. He knew that Lexi considered him a friend, but he wasn't sure what she was to him yet. She was certainly something. He would be lying if he said that he hadn't woken up a little bit in the middle of the night and smiled when he saw her snuggled up to him. He had been happy and then confused. There was a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite understand. It was like a monster clawing at him to get out. The monster had awoken with a new intensity as soon as he found out that Lexi was possibly in danger. Her call to John had left him numb as soon as John said those two words. He had to stop thinking about her, but that was impossible because this was all about her. He needed his Mind Palace for this

'_Not now, I'm busy,'_ Sherlock snapped at the Lexi in his Mind Palace. As soon as he had entered it she had been there as if she was waiting for him. The room he had created for her looked exactly like the living room of 221B. She was sitting, sprawled out in Sherlock's chair in the manner she normally did just to annoy him. She sat up straighter and smiled at him in that way that made the monster in him react.

'_Come on Lock, you know me better than anyone. I actually talk to you,'_ Lexi told him as she giggled at him. She was wearing what she had been that night, his purple shirt and her cotton shorts and her hair was down, falling in tight curls around her. She sat up properly and gave him that look with the slight smirk on her face that he often caught her giving him. _'Now, where would I go? How would I have solved the case?' _Lexi asked him and Sherlock put his hands up to his head, pulling at his curls.

'_I don't know,' _Sherlock growled out as Lexi got up and crossed over to him, staring up at him with that little grin on her face as she reached up and took his hands out of his hair, stilling their movements. He let himself be lead as the Irish girl held his hands in hers.

'_Of course you know._ _Don't pretend you're not enjoying this,' _Lexi told him with a grin as she stepped away from the detective and picked up her viola, playing that tune that he had only heard once. **(A/N Sherlock's theme/ The Game Is On) **Lexi looked back at Sherlock as he frowned.

'_Enjoying what?'_ Sherlock asked Lexi as she finished her song with a flourish, putting her viola down again as she crossed back over to him and leaned in so close he could smell the lavender drifting off of her skin.

"_Being Sherlock Holmes,"_ Lexi whispered into his ear before stepping back and giggling.

'_Well…what's that supposed to mean?'_ Sherlock snapped at her. He didn't like feeling confused and he was confused a lot around Lexi.

'_Being clever, showing off. You love it, especially in front of me,'_ Lexi told him her face going from flirty to serious. _"Focus Lock. Don't solve the case, save the life. Where would I go?" _Lexi asked him again and Sherlock stared at her intensely as he tried to think of every way she could have solved the case.

'_You were looking through the case files. Something you found there made you realize who the killer was,'_ Sherlock started as Lexi nodded at him in encouragement. He raised his hands to his temples as he tried to think. Where? Where?!

'_Where would she look Sherlock?'_ Mycroft said as he walked into the room that was meant only for Lexi. Sherlock spun around and stared at Mycroft murderously. He wasn't supposed to be here.

'_Piss off Mycroft!'_ Sherlock growled at his brother who stared back at him with that little smirk that only infuriated Sherlock more.

'_Ah ah, language brother mine. So nice to see you displaying such sentiment. Now, where would she look?'_ Mycroft asked his brother again as he picked up his umbrella and looked at the end of it before putting it back on the floor and walking around Sherlock to stand by Lexi who was watching him with that look on her face again that Sherlock could never tell what she was thinking.

'_Sentiment,_' Sherlock muttered to himself and Lexi beamed at him and he realized that he had figured it out. He pulled out of his Mind Palace and looked down at the paper he had in his hand, his eyes immediately flying up to the emergency contact information on the hospital record. "Oh," he said aloud as he came to the same conclusion Lexi had.

"What, what is it?" John asked Sherlock worriedly as Sherlock threw the paper down on the floor and turned around, striding out of the office and through the division. "Sherlock!" John called after him and the detective stopped and looked back at the army doctor.

"I know where she is," Sherlock told him and Lestrade immediately called for everyone on duty to get ready to go out. They snapped to attention and skittered around as Lestrade and John followed after the consulting detective who had such determination on his face that neither man really wanted to ask him what he had found out.

* * *

><p><strong>Lexi's POV<strong>

Of course, as soon as I had finished my call with John, Donna had rehandcuffed my hands after turning my phone completely off. Mycroft had put the GPS tracker back in it, but as long as my phone was turned off it was useless. After this case, I was going to have to do some tinkering. A GPS tracker sewn into all of our coats seemed like a good idea. Donna had forced me to go to the trunk of her car where she had conveniently had a shovel. She had explained to me that she knew it was only a matter of time before I figured it out. She knew I would come, she just didn't know if I would come alone. She had been prepared to get rid of John and me. She even thanked me for coming alone because it made her work easier. Of course I had sarcastically told her that I had been happy to help. I just had to stall her as long as I could. I knew that Sherlock could work out the message I had given John. Sherlock, Vatican Cameos, killer. It was the best I could do, but Sherlock should be able to figure out that I had gone to the Yard and from the case files he should be able to figure out the same thing I had. In terms of finding where I had gotten too, he then only had to ping Donna's phone which Mycroft should be able to do a lot faster than the police. There were some areas of my plan that could be improved upon, but I didn't have much to work with.

"You're not serious, you honestly expect me to dig my own grave?" I asked Donna as she held me at gun point.

"Have you ever been gut shot?" Donna asked me with a smirk and I looked back at her, gesturing to the full length of my body. Seriously? I had to dig my own grave. With a hand in a bloody cast I had to dig my own grave? If I was going to die, I refused to dig my own grave.

"Does it look like I have?" I asked her sarcastically and I snorted at her stupidity. "I imagine it makes it difficult to do manual labour though. Shoot me, yank my fingernails out, the answer's still no. I categorically refuse to dig a hole for you to bury me in, sorry," I told Donna as I worked on my handcuffs with the paper clip.

"Fine. I'll do it myself. It's not supposed to be that deep, they're supposed to find you," Donna told me as she walked forward and held the gun to my head. I was getting a strange case of Deja vu.

"_And here I was thinking we were just started getting better acquainted," I said as I sighed dramatically. Sherlock was watching me curiously as he tried to figure out where I was going with this. "You know what? I'll have the gun, please," I said as I uncrossed my legs and sat up straight again. _

"_Are you sure?" Jeff asked me sounding surprised by my choice. _

"_Definitely, I'm not into the whole poison thing. Just say no to drugs you know?" I said and I saw Sherlock's mouth twitch up into a smirk from the corner of my eyes. "Yeah laugh it up Holmes," I shot at him before turning back to Jeff, flashing him a falsely cheerful grin. "The gun," I told him with a nod. _

"_You don't wanna phone a friend?" Jeff asked me. I smiled back at him confidently before making a gesture with my hand for him to go ahead. _

"_The gun. Could we hurry this up a bit? 'Cos the suspense is killing me more than you seem to be." Jeff's mouth tightened, and slowly he squeezed the trigger. A small flame bursts out of the end of the muzzle. I snorted before grinning slightly smugly. "I know a real gun when I see one," I told Jeff with a shake of my head. "Really it was obvious." Jeff calmly lifted the pistol/cigarette lighter and released the trigger. The flame went out_

"_None of the others realized it," Jeff said sounding slightly impressed. _

"_Mmm, but if you've learnt anything from this it's that Sherlock and I aren't like the others," I pointed out to Jeff._

"Tell me something. How did you get started with all this? You must be very proud of your projects. It must kill you to have to keep it all to yourself. Mm? I—I'm about to die, so now's your chance to share. It's good to share. Yeah… tell me. What launched the career of Donna Kaplan, corporate sociopath?" I asked Donna trying to stall for time. Keep her talking and I had a chance of living a bit longer. Mycroft could get people here faster than imaginable. So far I had stalled her for about twenty minutes. I just needed a bit more time.

"Mr. Fowkes was a bond salesman back in Dublin. The company was downsizing. They were either going to cut his job…," Donna said before the sound of sirens rang through the silence and a police car came tearing up the road at full speed and came to a skidding stop after ruing a complete 180 so the car was facing us. More cars followed as Lestrade got out of the first car, Sherlock and John climbing out of the back. "What are they doing here?" Donna asked me before she suddenly grabbed me, pressing the gun into the side of my head. I heard Sherlock growl even over the distance and John stared back in complete soldier mode, looking quite daunting if I hadn't known the look was for Donna and not for me. Being under his gaze still made me want to run though. This was no longer Doctor John Watson this was Captain John Watson. As for Sherlock, I had never seen such fury on his face before and I did flinch both from him and from Donna digging the muzzle of the gun into my temple.

"Stand down!" Lestrade shouted across to Donna, drawing his own gun on her. "Put the gun down and step away from the girl!" Lestrade ordered her as the other police officers got out of their cars. Donovan and even Anderson were both there. In fact it looked like everyone in the division was there. That was when I caught sight of Gregson and Bell. Sherlock hadn't just gotten Lestrade, he had gotten everyone. Donna seemed to realize that she was only currently safe because she had the gun trained on me which was bad for me.

"Drop your guns or I'll shoot her," Donna shouted threateningly. No one listened to her and that was when things got hairy. Donna disengaged the safety and as soon as Lestrade heard the click he shouted for Donna to stop.

"Hey! Hold up! We're dropping them!" He shouted to Donna before looking over at everyone congregated. "That's an order! Weapons down!" Lestrade ordered everyone who hurriedly put their guns on the ground having never heard his voice take on such a commanding tone before. I stared back at Sherlock. This mustn't register on an emotional level. First, distract target.

'_Can you give me a diversion?'_ I asked him with a raise of my eyebrow. I had to be quick. Donna was under pressure and that was when people did stupid things.

'_Obviously,'_ Sherlock told me with a small smirk and an incline of his head.

"Very good, very well thought out. When Lexi got her message to us I didn't even think of you right away," Sherlock told Donna as everyone's head snapped towards him. Perfect, keep her attention other wised occupied. I had a plan. Actually it was more like a thing. I didn't know yet. I hadn't finished talking to myself. It was a thing in progress and I respected the thing.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade yelled as John also yelled at him. Of course, Sherlock continued on. He was giving me time as I manipulated the paperclip, I could feel the inner workings of the lock start to turn and I kept at it. There was another thing I was going to have to do after all of this and that was practice picking handcuff locks with various common items. You never knew when you might need that information.

"Brilliant in fact that message. Lead us right to you," Sherlock said before John silenced him with a very murderous gaze, whispering something to him that didn't quite make its way over to me. Whatever it was it made Sherlock shut up so I assumed that John had threatened Sherlock with some sort of bodily harm if he didn't stop talking. With the way Lestrade was looking back at John I was probably right.

"Message, what message?" Donna scoffed before pressing the gun further into my temple. Seriously, how far did she think she could shove it? "What the hell did you tell them?" Donna demanded of me as I finally felt the lock click open. Ah, freedom at last. I had been a bit slow, but I did only have working hand and not even my dominate one. I could afford to be slightly slow. I had finally figured out my thing and it wasn't exactly a good plan. I had a fifty/fifty chance of possibly getting shot. However, my chance of getting shot were pretty high already as I peeked and saw Donna's finger tightening around the trigger. She was getting agitated and she had been put on the spot. She was panicking because no one was supposed to find me and her plan had completely fallen apart. Of course, she had only met John and hadn't registered that I had said I was one of two consulting detectives. Sherlock had been my wild card and thankfully that plan had all worked out to my advantage. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do. There was a fair chance that if I survived what I was about to do that John, Lestrade, or even Gregson might kill me. Mycroft most certainly would but I wasn't sure what Sherlock's reaction would be. He already knew I was about to do something highly dangerous.

"I'm not really sure what he's talking about. He can go on and on and on about things. Bought me some time, though," I said as I ducked quickly. As soon as I moved I heard the gun go off like I thought it would. I heard the bullet whistle over my head, having just cleared it. I had felt the wind blow past my hair. I didn't have long to recover and I fought through the exhaustion from having been tased. I spun around blindingly fast, catching Donna's arm and holding it away from her, effectively holding the gun in the air as it went off again. Well, that was another close one. The gun had originally been aimed right at my chest. "Did you know I pick locks?" I asked Donna as she raised her other hand to try and punch me. One thing she should know though, never fight with an Irish girl. I blocked her blind jab at me and countered with cross to her left cheek. I discombobulated her leaving her dazed. "Pockets too," I told Donna before I pulled the Taser out of my own pocket and shoved it into her side. She stood there for a second before she collapsed and I stood there heaving before kicking the gun as far away from her hand as possible. I bent over, catching my breath. In all, physical recovery: Three days at most. Full psychological recovery: Two to four weeks. Pride recovery: possibly never. Capacity to shoot me in the head. Neutralized.

What happened next happened so quickly my brain nearly didn't have time to fully register it. After my daring self-rescue, John rushed over to me to make sure that I was okay. "I'm fine, I'm alright," I told the army doctor as he looked me over for any injury. Sherlock stood a little ways away from the two of us as Lestrade and Gregson walked over, Gregson detained Donna as Lestrade made sure I was alright. I ignored both of them and walked right over to Sherlock looking him in the eyes before I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into a tight hug, burying my face into the detective's chest, breathing in the scent of mint, chemicals, and something I had come to realize was entirely Sherlock. "I knew you would figure it out," I whispered to him as he tentatively wrapped his own arms around me returning my hug.

"Hmm, of course. Once I realized that it was the secretary it was quite obvious where she would bring you from there...," Sherlock said before I cut him off by standing on tip toe and kissing his cheek, effectively silencing him. I heard some people murmuring in the distance and my only thought about them was piss off. If I wanted to kiss Sherlock I was going to. I had almost been shot, I was probably in shock.

"Thank you Sherlock," I told the detective before turning back to John with a grin and catching the army doctor in his own hug. "Brilliant work Watson," I told the man as he hugged me tightly. I pulled back and pressed a kiss to John's cheek, feeling his cheek heat up in a blush under my lips.

"Don't scare me like that, I thought you had gotten shot," John scolded me and I rolled my eyes before giggling as Lestrade watched our little circle of love from a few steps away.

"Never piss off an Irish woman. The women have worse tempers than the men," I warned John before turning back to Lestrade. "Show me a little love there Greg. I did almost get shot by a corporate sociopathic serial killer," I joked and the man shook his head at me in exasperation before also hugging me.

"Only you," Lestrade said as he pulled away. I grinned back at him. I had done pretty well for myself. Of course, Sherlock proved and excellent distraction.

I was not happy with what happened next. Mycroft arrived and was his usual joyful self. He left as soon as he was assured that I was physically alright and I was generally scolded by him, John assuring him that nothing like this was ever going to happen again if he had anything to say about it. John wouldn't let me just go back to the flat and rest. No, I was forced to sit on a stretcher as an EMT gave me a full once over. They put a hideous orange shock blanket around me and no matter how many times I shrugged it off they kept putting it back on my. The EMT removed the blood pressure pump from my arm. He then proceeded to put the shock blanket back on me at which point I finally lost my temper.

"Bloody hell! I'm not in shock," I said, pulling the blanket off of me and tossing it far into the back of the ambulance. "No rapid, shallow breathing. No cold, clammy skin. No rapid, weak pulse. No signs of dizziness or fainting. No signs of weakness. What are they teaching you now?" I asked the EMT who glared at me before walking off.

"Yup, definitely alright," John remarked with an exasperated shake of his head as he and Sherlock joined me. I jumped off of the stretcher, Sherlock steading me as I stumbled slightly. "Same old Lexi," John commented with a grin.

"Takes more than that to affect me now," I told John with a grin. John nodded and cleared his throat, looking between Sherlock and me suspiciously. I didn't like that look, in fact I was far from liking that look. That look told me that John was about to do something that I was really not going to like.

"I'm just going to go see if Lestrade needs anything more," John told us before slipping away, effectively leaving Sherlock and I alone together. I knew what he was doing the bastard. He was forcing us together so we would talk.

"Sherlock," I said as Sherlock simultaneously said, "Lexi." We both looked at each other before Sherlock and I both broke out into laughter, Sherlock's baritone chuckle mixing with my higher pitched laughter.

"Maybe you should," I stared again as Sherlock said, "After you." We both smirked at each other before I sighed and looked away from Sherlock before nodding and looking back at him staring straight into his eyes. I had to know.

"Are we okay? You and I? I know you aren't comfortable with human contact and I didn't mean to fall asleep, I sort of just did," I told Sherlock quickly as I stared back at the consulting detective waiting for his answer. He stared back at me for a very long moment before finally answering me.

"We're…okay," Sherlock finally said and I sighed in relief. "It was… actually nice," Sherlock said furrowing his brow. "I think, I need to collect more data," Sherlock told me and I grinned at him, my stomach doing flips wait what?

"Baker Street?" I asked Sherlock and he smirked at me in amusement.

"Obviously," He told me and I laughed, finally hearing him say what he had been in my head all day aloud.

The two of us walked off to find out army doctor and leave to head back to our flat, a place that was not just a house but a home now. As we walked Sherlock and I dropped our hands to our sides. I smiled fondly at the detective when I looked over at him, a slight quirk pulling up his lips into a small smile. More data hmm? I didn't know why or what possessed me, but I looked straight ahead as I slipped my hand into Sherlock's squeezing his hand slightly. I heard Sherlock's breathe freeze and I peeked over at him and saw caught him staring down at our intertwined hands before looking up at me as I quickly looked away. When I snuck another peek at him I caught a small smile ghosting over his lips. It was in that moment, my hand in his as I stole a look at the consulting detective that I finally realized why he had entered my Mind Palace, the reason I had been seeing him with me all day when he really wasn't there. I was falling in love with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

><p><strong>Sherlock's POV<strong>

Everything happened so quickly that Sherlock barely had time to register Lexi's movements. "I'm not really sure what he's talking about. He can go on and on and on about things. Bought me some time, though," Lexi said as she ducked quickly. As soon as she moved Sherlock heard the gun go off. Sherlock felt completely numb as he suddenly feared the worst. He watched as Lexi spun around blindingly fast, catching Donna's arm and holding it away from her, effectively holding the gun in the air as it went off again. That was the second time that Sherlock felt all of the breath leave his body. The gun had originally been aimed right at her chest. "Did you know I pick locks?" Lexi asked Donna as Donna raised her other hand to try and punch her. Sherlock moved to try and aid her but froze before he could even move as Lexi blocked her blind jab at her and countered with a cross to Donna's left cheek. She discombobulated the secretary leaving her dazed. "Pockets too," Lexi told Donna before she pulled the Taser out of her own pocket and shoved it into Donna's side. Donna stood there for a second before she collapsed and Lexi stood there heaving before kicking the gun as far away from Donna's hand as possible. She bent over, catching her breath as Sherlock himself finally let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

After that it was all a blur as the consulting detective rushed forward with the army doctor to Lexi's side. "I'm fine, I'm alright," Lexi assured the army doctor as he looked her over for any injury. Sherlock's gaze trailed over her as he checked and confirmed that she hadn't been injured. He stood a little ways away from the two of them as Lestrade and Gregson walked over, Gregson detained Donna as Lestrade made sure Lexi was alright. She seemed to ignore the both of them before she walked right over to Sherlock looking him in the eyes before she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a tight hug, burying her face into the detective's chest. Sherlock breathed in the scent of lavender, vanilla, apples, and something Sherlock had come to realize was entirely Lexi. Petrichor, she almost smelt like London after the rain, a scent that Sherlock loved. "I knew you would figure it out," Lexi whispered to him as he tentatively wrapped his own arms around her returning her hug.

"Hmm, of course. Once I realized that it was the secretary it was quite obvious where she would bring you from there...," Sherlock said before Lexi cut him off by standing on tip toe and kissing his cheek, effectively silencing him. Sherlock heard some people murmuring in the distance, but his entire being was focused on that little point of warmth, those soft lips against the skin of his cheek. As soon as her lips broke contact, he felt as if his skin was burning. It was a good feeling, something that made him remember that he was alive.

"Thank you Sherlock," Lexi told the detective before turning back to John with a grin and catching the army doctor in his own hug as Sherlock stood frozen in his place. "Brilliant work Watson," Lexi told the man as he hugged her tightly. She pulled back and pressed a kiss to John's cheek. Sherlock could see where the kisses differed, his having been longer than the casual sibling like kiss that she gave John and even Mycroft.

"Don't scare me like that, I thought you had gotten shot," John scolded Lexi and she rolled her eyes before giggling as Lestrade watched the trio, Sherlock specifically noticing that Lestrade was watching him. Sherlock glared at him, which only made Lestrade smile at him smugly.

"Never piss of an Irish woman. The women have worse tempers than the men," Lexi warned John before turning back to Lestrade. "Show me a little love there Greg. I did almost get shot by a corporate sociopathic serial killer," She joked and the man shook his head at her in exasperation before also hugging the Irish detective.

"Only you," Lestrade said as he pulled away. Lexi grinned back at him.

Sherlock was not happy with what happened next. Mycroft arrived and was his usual pompous prat self. He left as soon as he was assured that Lexi was physically alright and then she was generally scolded by him, John assuring him that nothing like this was ever going to happen again if he had anything to say about it. John wouldn't allow Lexi to go back to the flat and rest. Instead he forced the very disgruntled Irish girl to sit on a stretcher as an EMT gave her a full once over. They put a hideous orange shock blanket around her and no matter how many times she shrugged it off they kept putting it back on her. Sherlock recalled their first case together after John had shot the cabbie and Lestrade had arrived.

"_Why have we got these blankets? They keep putting these blankets on us," Sherlock snapped as Lexi threw the blanket off of herself for the fourth time. _

"_Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade told them. Lexi sighed loudly and rolled her eyes at Greg as Sherlock bristled with irritation. _

"_We're not in shock. We're perfectly fine," Lexi told Lestrade as she threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Her reaction amused Sherlock as she tried to convince Lestrade that she was perfectly fine. It would seem that nothing could phase the Irish detective. _

"_Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs," Lestrade told them as he grinned. Sherlock and Lexi looked at each other despairingly before rolling their eyes at Lestrade in unison._

The EMT removed the blood pressure pump from Lexi's arm as Sherlock watched everything from afar as John spoke with Lestrade about everything that had happened back at the flat before they came down to the Yard. Sherlock wasn't really listening to them, his attention was too completely focused on the redhead sitting in the back of the ambulance. Sherlock smirked as the EMT proceeded to put the shock blanket back on Lexi. That was not going to end well.

"Bloody hell! I'm not in shock," Lexi shouted, pulling the blanket off of herself and tossing it far into the back of the ambulance. "No rapid, shallow breathing. No cold, clammy skin. No rapid, weak pulse. No signs of dizziness or fainting. No signs of weakness. What are they teaching you now?" She asked the EMT who glared at her before walking off.

"Yup, definitely alright," John remarked with an exasperated shake of his head as he and Sherlock joined Lexi at the back of the ambulance. She jumped off of the stretcher and Sherlock steadied her as she stumbled slightly. "Same old Lexi," John commented with a grin.

"Takes more than that to affect me now," The Irish detective told John with a grin. John nodded and cleared his throat, looking between Sherlock and Lexi suspiciously.

"I'm just going to go see if Lestrade needs anything more," John told them before slipping away, effectively leaving Sherlock and Lexi alone together. Sherlock knew what he was doing the bastard. He was forcing them together so that they would talk.

"Sherlock," Lexi said as Sherlock simultaneously said, "Lexi." The two detectives looked at each other before Sherlock and Lexi both broke out into laughter, Sherlock's baritone chuckle mixing with Lexi's higher pitched laughter.

"Maybe you should," Lexi started again as Sherlock said, "After you." They both smirked at each other before Lexi sighed and looked away from Sherlock before nodding and looking back at him staring straight into his eyes.

"Are we okay? You and I? I know you aren't comfortable with human contact and I didn't mean to fall asleep, I sort of just did," Lexi told Sherlock quickly as she stared back at the consulting detective waiting for his answer. Sherlock stared back at Lexi for a very long moment before finally answering her.

"We're…okay," Sherlock mused and he heard Lexi sigh in relief. "It was… actually nice," Sherlock said furrowing his brow in confusion. It was nice, it had been the first time he had really slept well in a while. He didn't know what the difference was though. Why did sleeping next to her make sleeping better? Why did being next to her in general make things better? "I think, I need to collect more data," Sherlock told Lexi finally and she grinned at him as the monster inside of him roared in triumph.

"Baker Street?" Lexi asked Sherlock and he smirked at her in amusement.

"Obviously," He told her and she laughed, a sound the monster in his heart definitely liked, knowing it was because of him that she was laughing and not because she was laughing at him.

The two consulting detectives walked off to find their army doctor so they could head back to their flat, a place that was not just a house but a home now. As they walked Sherlock and Lexi dropped their hands to their sides. A slight quirk pulling up at the corners of Sherlock's mouth as he walked beside the shorter woman. Suddenly Sherlock felt a small, warm hand slip into his own and squeeze his hand slightly. Sherlock's breath caught as once again as a battle waged inside his heart as the monster inside him calmed and a new monster replaced it, making his heart swell with a new emotion. His entire being felt tethered to that one tiny hand in his providing the warmth that warmed the cold, aching, numbness that he always felt. A small smile ghosted over the detective's lips. It was in that moment that Sherlock Holmes realized why Lexi had so completely overtaken his Mind Palace, why he couldn't contain her, and why he didn't want to. Sherlock Holmes was falling in love with Lexi MacKenna.


	33. Not Exactly Fort Knox

**Lexi here! Hi! Thank you so much for the reviews and follows/favourites for the last chapter. This story now has more views than John's blog. Ha ha take that. Our PA Melody finished editing this chapter early so I decided to post it early for all of you. Melody would also like me to remind you about our Tumbler page which you can find under the name KattieWatsonHolmes. The boys and I will be posting updates on there from our personal thoughts, answering questions, and it is here that we will be posting sneak peeks at the chapters and Melody will keep you updated about what might be going on here at Baker Street. She also posts lots of visuals for you all such as pictures of my coat so we hope to see you there. Ask Sherlock, John, and I anything! I love your questions! Now, on to the chapter. Are you ready for the Blind Banker? For all of you that are new around her, welcome to the Baker Street Irregulars. –Lexi MacKenna**

**Hello from Melody. The song that inspired this chapter was Kung Fu Fighting, the Cee Lo Green version. Enjoy the chapter- M.M.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty One- Not Exactly Fort Knox<strong>

"**It is stupidity rather than courage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes**

**Lexi's POV**

Another week passed at Baker Street without much of note happening. John went on a few dates with a girl and that fizzled out before it ever truly began and Sherlock and I had taken a look into the Jaria Diamond case which proved to be more trouble than it was worth. We had refused to take the case countless times over the week, but they still hadn't gotten the message. It was a relatively Mycroft free week which I was thankful for because it meant that I didn't have to deal with any childish tantrums from a certain consulting detective. As for Sherlock and I, something had definitely changed between us. Whereas we had previously sat across from each other, occupying the two armchairs while reading or on our laptops, we had moved to where we were now both sitting on the couch, on opposite ends still, but it was a step closer. The best part was that at the end of the week, John took me back to the A&E and I had seen another doctor, this time female at Sherlock's insistence which I was grateful for, and I had finally been released from the cast. My x rays came back and showed my knuckles were completely healed and for the first time in what felt like forever I was able to play my viola again. I had been so happy I had played Farewell to Ireland/ Foxhunter's reel, a song that made me thing of the rolling hills that I grew up around. (**A/N by Celtic Fiddle Festival if you want to look it up.)** I was ready for the next case and with the way Sherlock and I were tearing throughout the flat and conducting experiments late into the night, most of which involved milk for some reason, a new case couldn't come soon enough.

I woke up before the sun had even risen. It was quiet in the flat which could mean many things. Sometimes quietness was an indicator of something very not good going on. This morning I decided to let it go. If Sherlock was doing something that would possibly burn down the flat, I was going to leave him at it. Hell could freeze over and I still probably wouldn't care, actually I lie, I probably would care at least a little bit. If I was going to Hell as some people had told me to do, I was going for the sauna, not for the freezer. I pulled myself from my bed and pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. I padded over to the window as I pulled out my braid, picking up my singlestick before I slipped into the hallway silently. I made my way up to John's room as silently as possible. He was still asleep, but his window was the only one with access to the roof. I cracked it open, wincing as he turned over in bed with a loud snore. John wasn't actually aware of the fact that I used his window or at least he didn't know when I used it, like when he was sleeping. I always shut the window behind me and then climbed down the fire escape later on and entered through the front door when Mrs Hudson let me in. I slipped out onto the fire escape with bare feet. The cold morning air hit me, making each nerve ending in my feet fire rapidly as they got used to the chill. I quietly shut John's window again before the cold would register with him. I then started my climb up the fire escape with my single stick in hand.

As soon as I made it over the last rung and up onto the roof I hurried over to the combat boots I left on the roof and pulled on my thick socks, the pair I had stolen from Sherlock, and then my boots hurriedly. I found climbing the fire escape easier without shoes and it was easier to sneak through John's window without them. Therefore, I left my shoes up on the roof for when I wanted to come and practice. Once I was mostly warm, I got in the proper stance and practiced my form. Singlestick was also known as cudgels. The name referred to both the martial art that used a wooden stick as well as the weapon used in the art. It began as a way of training soldiers in the use of swords such as the sabre. I however, used it as a form of self-defence. Practically anything could be used in lieu of a singlestick and on more than one occasion my knowledge of the art proved to be innately useful. Mycroft himself had taught it to me at my request after my accident. His umbrella was more than just a fashion statement or accessory, especially with the modifications I had made to it. Gun training, well, I had another friend who had taught me that, but that was an even longer story. The sun rose over London as I practiced my skill, warming the air. After a while I heard the noise of a window opening and then, someone calling for me. I groaned and walked with singlestick in hand over to the edge of the roof, peering over the edge.

"Bloody hell Lexi, be careful!" John shouted up to me in concern as he stared up at me from his open window. Yes, because the last thing I was going to do while peering over the edge of a very high roof was be careful. Honestly John, common sense.

"How did you know I was out here?" I called to him as I backed up from the edge and pulled off my boots. I threw them over my shoulder and they landed with a thunk in the middle of the roof. At least they weren't close to the hives which were on the far corner of the roof. The bees seemed to like their new residence here at Baker Street and so far we hadn't gotten any complaints about the bees. In fact the park close to Baker Street seemed a lot greener since their arrival. I proceeded back to the edge and started my decent as John swore loudly.

"Sherlock told me I would find you up here. Be careful!" John shouted up to me as I climbed down the fire escape. "Lexi! What the hell where you thinking!? You could have fallen off the roof," John scolded me as I landed on the balls of me feet on the fire escape outside of his window. I stuck my tongue out at him as he stepped away from the window and allowed me to crawl into his room. He shut the chill out behind me as I straightened myself out.

"I'm always careful, besides it isn't the first time I've been on the roof," I told him nonchalantly as I headed out of his room and started down the stairs since my sparring session had been cut short. At least it seemed that way. Nearly four hours had passed. Hmm lost track of the time. I didn't see what the big deal was. I had jumped from roof tops on chases with him, but climbing up onto a roof with a ladder was dangerous? My feet were still nice and warm in my woollen socks making me a very happy person regardless of anything else.

"How do you get up there?" John asked me as he rushed down the stairs behind me. I walked into the living room and found Sherlock sitting in his chair in his thinking position. I knew he was listening even if he seemed otherwise engaged. His face had made a minute change in his interest over our conversation. Not visible enough for John to recognize, but that little slip told me he was listening even if he feigned that he was not paying attention. I had a feeling that he faked not hearing us sometimes just so he wouldn't have to answer us.

"The same way she came down, through your window. She has been for some time too," Sherlock remarked as I gracefully, or as gracefully as possible, plopped down on the couch and sprawled out before dropping my singlestick on the coffee table that was within arm's reach.

"You…you've been going out through my window?" John asked me sounding slightly irritable. I might have actually been crossing some line by going into his room when he was asleep, but I was only using his window, unlike Sherlock who went in there to snoop around John's belongings. I didn't need to know some things about him like which brand of underwear he wore. I didn't even want to know if he had snooped through my drawers. I didn't really have anything to hide, except maybe for some rather lacy pieces of lingerie that Anthea had bought me just so I would have to open them in front of Mycroft one year at Christmas.

"Not good?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow as I turned to look at him. He responded back with a look of disbelief and exasperation. "Hmm. I apologize John, your window has access to the fire escape. I made sure to close it after me though so the cold wouldn't wake you up," I told him before I turned my head up to look at the ceiling.

"I'm not even going to…," John started off tetchily before sighing loudly. "I'm going to Tesco's. Do you need anything in particular?" John asked Sherlock and me changing the subject. I rolled over onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow as I looked back at him.

"No, but thank you," I told John, smiling at the army doctor who was still in a mood before rolling over onto my back again and starting to count the patterns on the ceiling. My brain was slowly starting to rot from the lack of cases. I knew Sherlock wasn't coping too well with this development either. We needed to stay active, to engage our brains in a task. This inactivity was so completely boring. Maybe Mycroft had something I could work on for him. Not that I liked what Mycroft had for me to do most times, but it was better than sitting here staring at the ceiling. I was going to go crazy in this flat soon if I didn't have something to occupy my mind with. Either that or I would find something to occupy my time with that John would certainly feel was a bit not good. John left, leaving Sherlock and I to our own devices which was never completely safe.

I got up after a while and without a glance in Sherlock's direction I padded back to my room and grabbed a change of clothing before I proceeded to the bathroom and started up the shower before slipping inside. I smiled as I worked my lavender and ylang-ylang body soap into a lather before rinsing it off. I scrubbed my hair with copious amounts of my apple scented shampoo, taking longer to rinse that out as my hair was so long. I finished off my shower before stepping out and quickly towel drying off. I had chosen black short shorts, coral coloured tights, a brown tank top, and a sea foam green over shirt as my outfit for the day. I rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to my elbows before I ran a brush through my damp hair. I heard a loud crash from downstairs and I frowned as other sounds of a disturbance reached my ears. There were some things that were never good to hear in the flat and sounds of someone clearly banging open the door downstairs and thundering up the stairs were one of those sounds. I closed my eyes and strained to listen. The footsteps on the stairs were not John's. No, John did not thunder up the stairs nor would he force his way through the front door. These footsteps sounded lighter too, which meant that the person making the footsteps was normally lighter of foot. In a hurry…here for business. What kind of business? Oh…assassin. Lovely.

**John's POV**

John Watson stood at one of two self-service checkouts, scanning items from his basket. A short queue had begun to form behind him already and John scanned another item quickly. How was it that they had gone through so much milk? John just wanted to get this shopping trip done quickly. He was afraid to leave Lexi and Sherlock alone to their own devices for too long. There was no telling what they might do to stave off boredom. John serious doubted that they would commit a murder as Donovan seemed to think they would, but the odd experiment or two seemed more likely. John scanned another item slowly, slightly exasperated in general. The store had been crowded and John still wasn't completely happy with finding out that Lexi had apparently been using his window while he slept to get up to the roof.

"Unexpected item in bagging area. Please try again," The automated voice said and John swore under his breath.

**Lexi's POV**

I opened the door to the bathroom and entered the hall cautiously, but quickly. I couldn't leave Sherlock to deal with the assassin by himself. There hadn't been many options in the bathroom in terms of a weapon. A hair drier wasn't going to instil terror into the heart of a trained assassin. The most I would be able to do is throw it at him and possibly cause a small bruise. I would just have to rely on my hand to hand skills. As soon as I walked into the living room I was met with the sight of a heavily robed figure bursting through into the living room, his face and head almost completely shrouded in a variety of scarves. He immediately spotted Sherlock, who was still sitting in his chair as this occurred, and headed towards him. I watched as he pulled a long curved sword from somewhere in the folds of his robes. This was a situation that, to use John's term, was a bit not good.

Sherlock, thankfully reacted really quickly with his reflexes and jumped behind the chair just as the attacker slashed where his head had been moments before. Great, this was bloody brilliant! I had two options here, my singlestick was on the coffee table which meant I had to get past the assassin intent on killing one or both of us, my money was on both of us, and my sword was on the fireplace where Sherlock had put it which still meant I had to get around the assassin. I chose the sword. Of course the pen was mightier than the sword, but that wouldn't work too well in this situation. Mr. Assassin had a very sharp, very pointy sword and I needed British steel, not wood to fight against him. I rushed forward as Sherlock and our robed attacker entered a deadly dance and pulled my sword off of the mantelpiece.

It was nice to know that all of the training I did was finally coming in handy. I was a self-rescuing princess and it seemed like Sherlock was the damsel in distress right now instead of me. At this point, Sherlock and our armed assailant where inside the kitchen. They came flying out a second later, Sherlock backing up carefully and quickly ducking this way and that to avoid the blows. The man backed him up as far as the sofa and then took another swing at him. Sherlock dropped onto the sofa in a sitting position, expertly ducking under the sword that would have decapitated him if he hadn't moved swiftly. The attacker raised his sword above his head with both hands and Sherlock raised a leg, kicking hard at the man's chest and shoving him backwards right into me. He spun around as soon as he regained his footing and as soon as he saw me with sword in hand, he swung his sword at me with a yell of Arabic. I didn't bother to translate it as I brought my sword up to meet his, sparks flying off the swords as the steel met forcefully. Good thing I wasn't still in a cast or this would be really difficult. He was stronger than I was and therefore used his strength against me. I grunted as I attempted to ward of the assassin who seemed really intent on doing the both of us bodily harm. I looked over at Sherlock who had now gotten to his feet and was taking an all-important moment to straighten his jacket.

**John's POV**

In the supermarket, John held the lettuce in the plastic bag and moved it slowly across the scanner in an attempt to get it to read the barcode.

"Item not scanned. Please try again," The automated voice said rather loudly and John straightened up, staring at the device in exasperation.

"D'you think you could keep your voice down?" John hissed at the machine as other people in the cue behind him looked at him oddly and shuffled their feet. The one guy behind him was giving him a look that meant hurry up.

**Lexi's POV**

"Sherlock, get your bloody arse over here!" I shouted at the consulting detective as I brought up one leg and kicked the man in the chest, sending him stumbling away from me. That hurt more barefooted than it would if I had been wearing shoes. I didn't have many options though. Once the assassin regained his footing he rushed at me again and we proceeded to lock swords in a battle of steel and wills. I had practice fencing with Mycroft, but this was altogether different. This sword could kill and so could this man. I was no apprentice though. Mycroft went to boarding school, a British all boys' boarding school. We practiced nearly every day for three months until he had nothing else to teach me and I trained heavily when I got a chance. I was not going to get into a life or death situation again where I couldn't at least defend myself. As much as I was good, this man was better and Sherlock wasn't providing much aid to my cause. The assassin feigned that he was going to slash towards the right and I went to block the move only for him to do the exact opposite. The result was that his sword cut into the skin of my arm at the same time ruining my shirt.

I gasped in pain and looked down at my arm which was bleeding a good amount, before I snarled and rushed at the man with a new speed and fury. I was fine for a few seconds until the black spots danced in front of my eyes. Not good, from the feel of the cut I hadn't been cut too deeply. It would require stitches, but my body was going into shock because of the injury. I ducked under the assassin's blade which would have connected with my neck. As I fell to my knees I felt his sword brush against my hair. A one inch curl fell beside me, he had cut my bloody hair! That was it, I was going to kill him. Sherlock took over for me as I gripped my arm, trying to staunch the bleeding. Don't go into shock. Breath, you are completely fine. Just a tiny cut from a very sharp sword of death. I heard a grunting noise as I suddenly realized that Sherlock and our attacker were in the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder and immediately sprung to my feet as I saw that the man had Sherlock pinned to the kitchen table and was trying to press the edge of his blade into Sherlock's throat. I darted forward and grabbed my singlestick in my good hand, even if it hurt to move my arm, and made for the kitchen.

**John's POV**

In the supermarket, John had at last got everything scanned and had inserted his debit card into the chip-and-PIN machine. He typed in his PIN and waited.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment," The automated voice said, louder than before when it had told him the item had not scanned.

"Yes, all right! I've got it!" John shouted abuse at the machine.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment," The automated voice said again as the man in the queue behind him picked up his own basket in expectation of getting to the scanner soon. John reached towards his back pocket but realised that he had no other way of paying.

"Got nothing," John said angrily as he pointed at the machine. "Right, keep it. Keep that," John said as the man behind him looked on in surprise as John angrily walked away, abandoning his shopping and his card as well.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock was grimacing with the effort of pushing the man's right wrist upwards to keep the blade from cutting into his throat. I yelled at the man in Arabic to turn around and face me unless he was a coward and would not fight a woman just as Sherlock raised his left leg and kneed the man in the side several times. The robed man's grip began to loosen and Sherlock forced himself upwards again. The sword tip gouged a long slash across the top of the table as the attacker moved towards me. I back up into the living room where there was more space and took a stance as the attacker and I once again engaged in a duel. This had gotten personal now. No one touched my hair first of all and secondly I was bleeding a good deal. I made sure to stay off of the carpeted areas. We could clean the blood off of the wooden floors, but Mrs. Hudson would have my head if I got blood all over her rug.

"Parry. Parry. Thrust. Thrust. Good," I remarked as I used my singlestick to deflect his blows. I got through his defences and managed to hit him across the head before dancing away. It didn't have a lot of force behind it so it really didn't do anything except make him all the angrier. I skirted around Sherlock's chair, placing it behind me and the man wielding a sword. The assassin took another swing at me, but I ducked under it before quickly straightening up. I pointed directly over the man's shoulder where Sherlock was standing just watching the development of my fight. "Look!" I shouted. The man half turned in that direction with the swing of his sword. I took advantage of his brief moment of distraction to smash him over the head in one of the most basic singlestick moves and the man dropped unconscious into Sherlock's arm chair. I straightened up and checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a mess and a lock of my still damp hair on the right side of my face was now an inch shorter than the rest of it. Sherlock was likewise straightening his jacket and cuffs and dusting himself down. He walked forward as I was breathing heavily, singlestick still in hand in case the man so much as even twitched. He looked down at our attacker with disdain, as if indignant that he had messed up his suit.

Sherlock looked back at me, his eyes zeroing in on the blood dripping down my arm and onto the floor boards. "Are you alright?" Sherlock immediately asked me as he crossed the room and reached out, taking my single stick from me and flinging it so that it rolled under the coffee table. "Lexi, are you alright?" Sherlock asked me louder and more forcefully, snapping me out of my momentary haze.

"Yes," I answered immediately before feeling slightly dizzy as the adrenaline wore off and my body went into shock at the sudden blood loss it was experiencing. " No," I changed my answer shaking my head. Sherlock steered me over to the couch and sat me down despite my protests of getting blood on the couch. He took my ruined over shirt and ripped the arm up, exposing the long bloody gash on my forearm. He tore my ruined shirt off of me and bundled up the material before pressing it down firmly on top of the wound. I hissed in pain and he shushed me soothingly.

"I know, but we have to apply pressure to it," He told me as he held the now completely destroyed shirt to my arm. I was aware of the fact of how comforting and human he was being. In fact I would go far as to say he was worried about me. "You need stitches. Should I call for an ambulance? Or maybe we can just go to the A&E? I don't know how we could explain this…," Sherlock rambled on before I shushed him by putting my index finger on his lips. He went slightly cross eyed as he stared down at my finger.

"We have three options because I am not moving. One we could call Mycroft and he could bring his personal doctor by, two we call John and wait for him to come back, but that would mean he would have to find out there was a deadly assassin trying to kill us in the flat, or three you could stitch me up yourself since John has all we need in his med bag," I told Sherlock before taking my finger off of his lips. He stared back at me, contemplating all three options before he finally answered me.

"I could do it," He told me and I nodded slowly. "Can you hold pressure on this while I go get his bag?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded again. He left me and I heard him sprint up the stairs. I took slow, deep breaths to slow my heart rate down. He wasn't gone long before he bounded back down the stairs with John's medical bag. He pulled the coffee table closer to the couch and put the bag down on it before opening and quickly riffling through it before finding a needle, thread, antiseptic, and a lighter as well as gauze, and tape. He looked back at me, his hands full and he looked lost. I smiled at him slightly and giggled.

"I can direct you through it," I told him and he sighed in relief. "Alright, first thing would be to flush it out with the antiseptic," I directed him and he nodded before taking the shirt away from my arm and throwing the bloody stained rag towards the kitchen. Now that the bleeding had stopped to a trickle it was easier to see the gash in my arm. It bled more than how bad it really was. The cut was shallow, but rather clean. Sherlock flushed it out with the antiseptic and I bit my lip to not swear at him in pretty much any language I knew. Once he was done with that I told him to sterilize the needle with the lighter. He looked up at me in surprise as soon as I told him that now it was just like sewing only he would be sewing my skin back together.

"There's nothing in here to numb it," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him in understanding. I already knew that that was a possibility when I gave Sherlock the option of doing it for me.

"I know that. We're going to do it without it," I told Sherlock and he shook his head at me quickly before furrowing his brown.

"Lexi, you've been stabbed technically. I will be pushing a needle through your flesh. I've never experienced the act myself without some form of anaesthetic administered first, but I think it is logical to assume that it would be very painful," Sherlock told me and I giggled at that which only caused Sherlock to raise his eyebrow at me. "I see you are in shock and not in your right mind."

"I'm fine besides for this large cut in my arm. I know it's going to hurt. This won't be the first time I got patched up without any meds first. Just go ahead, I can take it," I told him and he hesitated. "Look, if you want we can still wait for John to get back if you aren't comfortable doing this, but this is the way he'll have to do it too," I pointed out to Sherlock. "I honestly would rather that John does not find out we had a murderous assassin in the flat, but that is entirely up to you," I added and I could see in Sherlock's eyes that he was having some sort of internal battle with himself. He took a deep breath in and let it out in exasperation before nodding slowly at first and then again more decidedly.

"Alright" was the only thing Sherlock told me before we started the process. Thirty- seven stitches later and my arm felt like it was on fire. Despite Sherlock never having done it before, he had followed my directions expertly and I was all sewn up and he had even applied copious amounts of gauze and tape over my stiches which would need to be changed later. Just after we finished and Sherlock had cleared everything away back in John's bag, Mycroft arrived with his personal physician and a clean-up crew. The clean-up crew got started with cleaning the blood off of the floor and getting any that might have gotten on the carpet out of it. They disposed of my ruined shirt and all evidence of the fight as Mycroft's doctor gave me a once over at Mycroft's insistence. Through all of this, Sherlock never left my side, but sat beside me with one hand on the small of my back, rubbing small circles into it with his index finger on occasion as Mycroft and Sherlock had a staring contest. Two men in suits had come and collected the unconscious assassin and once my exam was over and the doctor was happy with how Sherlock had done my stitches, Mycroft wasn't happy that he had, he prescribed me Vicodin for the pain as I was less likely to get addicted to it and he left those in my care before he and Mycroft along with Mycroft's hired help cleared out of our flat.

As soon as they were gone, Sherlock sprang up and returned to his chair, picking up his book and carrying on as if nothing had ever happened. He looked up from his book as he turned the page and caught my eye before we both burst out into laughter, his deep baritone chuckle mixing with my higher bell like laugh. When we finally calmed down, I collected my single stick from under the coffee table happy to see that it only had minimal damage and placed in back on the table before I got up and went back to my room to change. Thankfully I had only gotten blood on my over shirt. I took my shorts and tank top off along with the leggings and pulled on a pair of black leggings instead and one of Sherlock's white button down shirts. I had recently been stealing some of his and John's clothes when Mrs. Hudson did the wash. I had plenty of clothes, but there was something about stolen shirts or socks that were more comfortable than your own. It was a classy look and thankfully covered my arm, hiding my stitches. It also made me feel slightly like James Bond. After what went down in the flat I felt a bit like Bond. I threw my clothes in my hamper and pulled on Sherlock's thick wool socks that I absolutely loved and my black knee length boots. I padded back into the living room and threw myself down on the couch being careful for my arm before I adopted my pose from that morning and sighed heavily. The meds had started taking affect and I was already feeling loopy. I had hid the bottle of pills in my room so John wouldn't find them and had discovered that Mycroft's doctor had given me a rather high dose. Mycroft had probably told him that I had a high drug tolerance which meant a normal dosage would do absolutely zilch for me. I was thankful for the drugs as my arm was burning. I would put some ice and the antibiotic cream that Mycroft's doctor had left with me on it later. I heard the door open downstairs before the unmistakeable sound of John's footsteps started up the stairs. I opened one eye lazily as John walked into the living room, looking around as is he suspected that something had happened in his absence, but he couldn't tell what. He wouldn't be able to anyway. Mycroft's men were good at cleaning up all evidence that anything ever occurred. No one would be the wiser, especially John.

"You took your time." Sherlock said without looking up from his book which he was still calmly reading. I flicked my gaze over to him, smiling goofily through the drugs which were making my mental processes run slightly slower. Note to self, try and act normal around John. Easy enough to do.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping," John told him and I sat up quickly. There was a story in this somewhere. I had seen that look on John's face only a few times, mostly when Sherlock or I conducted an experiment but we hadn't done anything to warrant this.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock asked him as he looked over the top of his book indignantly. I grinned at the consulting detective fondly. He was making that face. His face was adorable. Ugh, this is why I didn't do drugs or drink too much. My thoughts got really weird whenever I did.

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine," John told him tetchily before I burst out into giggles. I clamped a hand over my mouth quickly trying to muffle my laughter to no avail. John rounded on me and glared at me darkly as I held my other hand over my side which felt like I had a stitch in it from laughing so hard. In my defence I was on drugs, not that he knew that.

"You ... you had a row with a machine?" Sherlock asked John as if fearing for his sanity, lowering his book a little. "Lexi!" He snapped as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at me that he had gotten off of his desk. I batted it away or at least I tried to but it smacked me in the side of the head causing me to laugh harder. John ignored me at this point as Sherlock rolled his eyes exasperatedly at me.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" John asked Sherlock and I took a deep breath, calming my laughter as I caught the consulting detective trying to hold back his amused smile before he nodded towards the kitchen.

"Take my card," Sherlock told him and John walked towards the kitchen where Sherlock's wallet was on the table. Sherlock looked across to me and I broke into a grin which he returned before he held a finger to his lips he waved at me to be quiet as John turned around staring at us indignantly.

"You could always go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left, either of you," John said and Sherlock and I looked across at each other, sharing a conspiratorial look before we both turned back to John. Sherlock tried to look nonchalant as he turned the page of his book.

"I did the shopping last time thank you and I have moved! I got dressed," I pointed out as I laid back down on the couch and turned my head, meeting Sherlock's gaze and catching the smile on his face that he was hiding from John with his book. John shook his head at me as he picked up Sherlock's wallet from the table and rummaged through it for a suitable payment card.

"And what happened about that case you two were offered… the Jaria Diamond?" John asked us as something caught my eye. I looked at what it was and noticed that it was the sword of our friendly assassin who had come to welcome us to the neighbourhood. Crap, I swore Mycroft had left it behind just to get us in trouble with John as retaliation because he wasn't happy that I had let Sherlock patch me up. But no, Mycroft Holmes was above all of that.

"Not interested," Sherlock said as he used a piece of paper as a book mark and shut his book with a loud snap before I bolted across the living room taking advantage of the noise to mask my footsteps as I walked up and over the coffee table. I managed to kick the sword under his chair and sit down in front of it, hiding it from view before John could turn around.

"We sent them a message. I think this time it was finally received and understood," I told John, looking up at Sherlock who was curiously looking down at me and winking. If my little over the head swing that had ended the fight wasn't message enough, I didn't know what was. John found a card he could use, but paused to bend over the kitchen table. Crap, the gouge in the top of the table. We had missed that. At least that could be easy explained. The sword in the flat could not be however. My sword had been put back on the mantle by the cleaning crew, but a curved sword would not go unnoticed or unexplained. John sighed and ran his finger along the cut, rubbing at it in case it was just a mark that could be removed. I wish Watson, Mrs. Hudson was going to kill us.

"Ugh, Holmes," I heard John say in an exasperated whisper and I grinned. Ha, Sherlock was the one being blamed and not me. John looked back at us and tutted pointedly before eyeing me suspiciously. Sherlock shook his head at John innocently and I fixed him with my most innocent smile. John gave us one final look before he turned and left the room, trotting back down the stairs as Sherlock and I shared a smirk. I got up and took the sword with me, holding it up for inspection.

"Well that could have gone terribly," I told Sherlock as he took the sword from me. I pouted at him and followed him as he got up and walked away from me through the flat towards his room.

"If you didn't stop laughing like a hyena you were going to give us away," Sherlock told me snappishly, but I heard the note of a grin in his voice.

"Oi, I'm on drugs and hormonal. Don't judge," I told Sherlock as he ducked down and shoved the sword under his bed. He straightened up and looked me over before frowning.

"Is that my shirt?" He asked me as I crossed my arms over my chest, wincing slightly as the movement pulled on my stitches. I nodded at him and grinned.

"Yup, and your socks," I told him, wiggling my toes in my boots as he looked down before looking up at me and raising an eyebrow.

"Don't you have your own clothes?" He asked me as he brushed past me and went back into the living room. I snorted as I followed him, breaking off into the kitchen and starting the kettle.

"Yeah, but yours are more comfortable. These socks…," I said before closing my eyes and smiling happily. "Being female I was born with a high chance of bad circulation which I in fact have which means that all my extremities are usually cold. Therefore, I like to cuddle and steal particularly warm socks and jumpers. Deal with it Lock," I told the consulting detective as I bustled around the kitchen. I cried out in pain when I lifted my arm to get the mugs out of the cupboard. Within a second the consulting detective was at my side and he tried to reach for the mugs for me. I slapped his hand away. "Go away, I can do it myself," I told him, frowning a bit. I didn't need help. Sherlock rolled his eyes at me before getting down the two mugs.

"You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met," Sherlock told me and I grinned at him as I plopped the tea bags into the mugs. That summed me up in a nutshell, stubborn and proud of it. I got that from my Mum or at least granddad always told me that I did.

"And don't you forget it," I told Sherlock as I handed him his mug of tea. He rolled his eyes at me in exasperation before the lanky git turned around and walked away. He grabbed John's laptop which was sitting on the end table before he made his way to his final destination, plopping his bony arse down at the dining table that I had first thought was a desk when moving into the flat until I had done some cleaning and found out there was actually a table beneath all the papers and books he had on top of it. I sighed and shuffled over to him, dragging one of the kitchen chairs with me and setting it up beside him at the desk as he booted up John's laptop. "That is John's laptop," I pointed out and he looked over at me despairingly. "Just pointing out the obvious," I told him with a shrug and he huffed at me in irritation as the computer made it start up sounds and then requested the password.

I watched Sherlock as he folded his hands in his prayer pose and stared at the screen, as if the acts was going to magically unlock it. He sighed in frustration after a second and then typed in a password, being denied access. I giggled and he looked over at me and glared. "If you're so smart, you figure out his password," Sherlock snapped at me and I shrugged before putting my tea down on the desk and picking up John's laptop, balancing it on my lap. John had recently changed his password since he moved into the flat as I had seen him change it. The password hint said it was something he liked. John liked a lot of things. I grinned before typing in his password: Tea&Toast. The computer made a sound as it unlocked and I smiled smugly at the now very techy detective as I handed the computer back to him.

"There you go love," I told Sherlock, patting him on the arm before getting up and switching seats. I curled up in his chair and held my mug of tea against my chest before I flipped on the TV. I settled down to watch some Doctor Who reruns as Sherlock typed away on John's laptop. At first the key clicks were loud indicating he was still irritated and not being able to guess John's password himself, but after a while I barely even noticed them as I watched the Tenth Doctor on the telly. My eyes started to grow heavy after a while of watching the Doctor and his companion running around fighting Daleks in Manhattan. The drugs were slowing me down, but they were also keeping me from cursing every five minutes. The sound of the door opening downstairs roused me from my sleepy state and a few minutes later John staggered up the stairs carrying several bags of shopping.

"Don't worry about me. I can manage," John said sarcastically as I stretched and looked over at Sherlock who was now sitting with his hands folded in front of his mouth as he stared at the laptop screen. He barely glanced over at John who sighed heavily as he carried the bags into the kitchen and dumped them on the table. I got up and crossed over to Sherlock, leaning over his shoulder to take a look at what he was staring at so intently. It was an email from someone named Sebastian Wilkes. Apparently Sherlock and Wilkes hadn't seen each other in a long time and Sebastian had heard that Sherlock was a consultant. Wilkes told Sherlock that, "There's been an 'incident' at the bank" which he hoped Sherlock would be able to sort out. He asked him to drop by and said that he'll be relying on Sherlock's discretion. Sherlock looked up at me and we shared a look.

"It's generally considered rude to read someone else's emails," Sherlock told me and I stuck my tongue out at him before moving away. I grinned as I saw the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as I walked away. John turned around from the kitchen table and frowned as soon as he laid eyes on exactly what Sherlock was looking at.

"Is that my computer?" John asked Sherlock as I passed by the army doctor, bring my mug and Sherlock's into the kitchen and putting them in the sink. I started emptying the bags of shopping and dancing around the kitchen putting the food away.

"No, it's my Timey Whimey Detector. It goes ding when there's stuff and it can cook an egg at twenty paces whether you want it to or not," I told John which of course was ignored by both men. I rolled me eyes. I thought it had been pretty funny.

"Of course," Sherlock told him as he started to type again. I grinned to myself. Sherlock was going to get it. I had tried to warn him. The only thing I had done was guess John's password for him and I didn't count that as aiding and abetting. That was proving a point. I had simply proven that I could get into John's laptop, but I had no intention of using it myself.

"What?!" John asked Sherlock heatedly as he sniffed in irritation. Oh, the Watson sniff. It was one of the many expressions that John had. He was a very expressive sort of person. I had discovered through observation that he could relay something in just one look. It was one of the many things I loved about my dear Watson.

"Mine was in the bedroom," Sherlock told him and I rolled my eyes as I put the tea away. As if that made any sense at all for why he had to use John's instead of his own. He had just been in his room. No, Sherlock only did it because he could, because it was convenient.

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John asked him and there was a long moment of silence. Exactly John. He couldn't be bother to walk less than five feet and get his from his room. That was Sherlock. "It's password protected!" John stated indignantly. Not exactly. I would have to teach him some pointers about choosing passwords. That was why Sherlock hadn't used mine which was sitting on his desk just behind him. He had already tried to use it, only to be thwarted by my password.

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours," Sherlock said while typing before he glanced up at John. "Not exactly Fort Knox," He continued as I rolled my eyes and snorted. What he really meant is it took him a minute before he handed it over to me and then it took me a minute to guess his password. I wasn't going to point this out to John however.

"Right, thank you," John said in annoyance before he stalked over to Sherlock and reached over, slamming the lid down as Sherlock pulled his fingers out of the way just in time. He took his laptop with him across the room and put it down on the floor beside his armchair before he sat down. Sherlock clasped his hands in his prayer position in front of his mouth and propped his elbows on the table, looking thoughtful as I walked back into the living room and took a seat across from John in Sherlock's chair. John picked up the small pile of letters from the table beside his chair before frowning. "Oh," He said as he flicked through the letters before shaking his head in resignation. "Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull," Sherlock said and I looked back at him, raising an eyebrow only to find that he seemed to be lost in thought. John put the letters back onto the table and looked across at me as I turned back at him. He glanced quickly at the letters which I could see from here were bills before he awkwardly sat forward is hands folded.

"Listen, um ... if you two would be able to lend me some ...," John started, licking his lips nervously as I watched him with my hands folded in front of me, giving him my full attention before he stopped, realizing the Sherlock was in a world of his own. "Sherlock, are you listening?" He asked him and I looked back at Sherlock knowing this had something to do with the email he had gotten. He had most likely been contemplating the request he had received.

"I need to go to the bank," Sherlock said without looking at either of us as he got up and headed towards the stairs, taking his coat from the hook on the door. John looked at me as if not realizing what Sherlock had just said. I shrugged at him and I got up and joined Sherlock at the door as he got my coat down from me and helped me in to it, careful of my arm before he put his own scarf on and then draped my hunter green scarf around my neck, tying it up for me. John frowned, the jumped up and hurried to join us as we headed off down the stairs. As the three of us smushed together in the back of the cab I grinned to myself as I looked at the consulting detective who was staring out of the window already, watching London race by us. Things were about to get a lot more interesting.


	34. The Blind Banker

**IMPORTANT NOTE **

**Thank you all for your reviews on the last chapter. To answer your question about more updates, I'm attempting to give you as many as possible, but you have to be patient with me. I'm legally blind so writing chapters takes me a while as does editing because of all my programs which make it possible for me to write tend to run more slowly than my brain does. I also start back at college in two weeks so I'm trying to get chapters written ahead so there is never a delay in posting. I guarantee that you will always have an update on Sunday. When I have enough written ahead like I do for right now, you will get a midweek update on Wednesday like you are today, but I can't promise that you will always get one. I'd rather be able to post once a week than not be able to post at all because I did more than one update in a week and then didn't have anything written ahead when an exam or paper comes due. When I finish Season Three on my end you will be getting more frequent updates. Thank you so much for your support of my story! Again a post every Sunday is guaranteed, but midweek ones are not. Now onto the chapter, Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Two- The Blind Banker<strong>

"**The chief proof of man's real greatness lies in his perception of his own smallness."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of Four**

**Lexi's POV**

We arrived at the bank, Tower 42 on Old Broad Street and Sherlock led John and me through the revolving glass doors which led into Shad Sanderson Bank. The place was posh, the sort of place that Mycroft might conduct his banking at. John started at the impressive foyer as we followed Sherlock who offered his arm to me. I knew that he had seen that I was slightly dizzy from my medication and from recovering from blood loss. It was sweet that since this morning he had been taking care of me in his own little way. Sherlock led us over to the escalators, knowing exactly where he was going. I was happy just to follow him for the moment. My eyes scanned around, reading various people talking on cell phones as I caught Sherlock doing the same. This place had supposedly had a break in. Posh place like this had to have a good security system so that meant the person or people who had gotten in had to be clever. Wilkes asked Sherlock for discretion. That meant that he didn't want anyone to know they had a break in. That was understandable. One person finds out and then everyone suddenly wants to pull their money out of the bank. It was terribly bad for business.

"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank ...," John said as he got on the escalator behind Sherlock and I as we continued to observe everything around us. I made note of the security systems which had to have cards swiped across an electronic reader in order to open the glass barrier gates. As soon as we reached the top of the escalator, Sherlock led me over with him to the reception desk and addressed one of the receptionist.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, um, just a moment. I'll call up and let them know you've arrived," The receptionist stuttered. Obviously they had been expecting us or at least Sherlock. The receptionist called upstairs and then looked back at us when she had finished. "Just follow me," She told us and she led us over to the lifts. We took a short ride upstairs and she showed us into Sebastian Wilkes' office telling us he would be in with us shortly. I stood with Sherlock, one hand wrapped around his arm and the other hand resting on my other arm so I was effectively hugging his arm. I rested my head against his shoulder as he stood stiffly for a moment and then relaxed. I was thankful that he was letting me rest against him for a moment. I was tired, the nightmares had come back the night before with a new vengeance. I lifted my head from Sherlock's arm as a man walked into the office and grinned at Sherlock. I drew my arm away from Sherlock and stepped back a bit, giving him some space.

"Sherlock Holmes," The man greeted and I saw the tight look on Sherlock's face. They hadn't seen each other in a long time, but by choice. There was some bad blood between the two men. They weren't friends, in fact far from it, but Sherlock had still come to help him. Most likely because he tried more than he let on to make people like him.

"Sebastian," Sherlock greeted him in kind as they shook hands, Sebastian clasping Sherlock's in both of his own. I narrowed my eyes at Sebastian and tilted my head to the side. I decided that I didn't like him. I always just knew when I met a person if I would like them or not. I was not getting any good vibes from Sebastian and I could pick up on the tension between the two men. Besides, I had a feeling he was using Sherlock.

"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian asked as Sherlock looked back at him with only marginally disguised dislike. So I had been right. Sherlock didn't like him much himself. Sebastian turned to look at John and I next and I straightened up, staring at him from under my red curls, my eyes still partially narrowed. He looked me over in that way that most men seemed to upon meeting me that made me feel like I was just a piece of meat. It was why I rather liked Sherlock and John, neither of them did that. Both were actually gentlemen.

"These are my friends," Sherlock said stressing the word friends. "John Watson," He introduced John before turning to me. I give him a pointed look and he nodded slightly before introducing me. "And Alexandria MacKenna," He finished and I nodded slightly at him in thanks at having introduced me as Alexandria rather than Lexi. I would not be letting Sebastian call me Lexi ever.

"Friends?" Sebastian asked latching on to the emphasised word. I could already feel my blood boiling. This man was a world class arse if there ever was one. The more he talked the more he was pissing me off.

I had met plenty of people like him before who thought they could use me for what I could do and I could tell that Sebastian was doing the same thing to Sherlock. He didn't like Sherlock, in fact he despised him and probably hated him, but he was willing to use Sherlock for his own benefit. And Sherlock would help him, because as much as he hated Sebastian too, there was a part of Sherlock that wanted to be liked and accepted by others. I knew that feeling all too well. There came a time that you were willing to put up with people just because you didn't want to be alone. I had my own Sebastian in Uni, Victoria Conner. She was a right piece of work but I put up with her insults and attitude because I was desperate for a friend. Then I met Mary who stood up for me. Apparently no one ever stood up for Sherlock. Well, now someone would and that person would be me. I was a lot stronger than I was when I was younger.

"Colleagues," John corrected and I snapped my head around at him and glared at him as I was brought back to the present. Traitor! He was lucky that I had to appear professional or else he would have already been kicked in the knee by now or maybe a spot just a bit higher. I turned back to Sebastian, my expression still slightly stormy.

"Friend," I corrected for myself, my voice having a slight bite to it and I saw Sherlock's eyes widen slightly from the corner of my eye. "Best friends actually," I added more calmly as Sebastian eyed me oddly before looking me over. I saw him look over at Sherlock and raise his eyebrows. I looked over at Sherlock myself and grinned at him giving Sebastian something else to contemplate as I took Sherlock's hand in mine again and squeezed it reassuringly. He squeezed my hand back slightly and I saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly. That was enough for me for now.

"Right." Sebastian said as he and John shook hands, Sebastian eyeing John curiously as well. "Right," He said again before he threw a brief look at Sherlock as if he was saying 'Didn't think you had a friend!' He grinned unpleasantly before he scratched his neck momentarily. Sherlock and I both looked at his wristwatch before sharing a look. As Sebastian turned away, John pursed his lips as if he had taken an instant dislike to the man as I had or was regretting correcting Sherlock. He would be getting an earful about that from me later. "Well, grab a pew. D'you need anything? Coffee, water?" Sebastian asked us and Sherlock shook his head.

"No," John told him and Sebastian looked over at me. I decided to be deliberately difficult. I wasn't fake nice to anyone and I certainly wouldn't be to this prat. He was just another pompous git who thought that he was better than everyone else and I was not going to stand by and let him humiliate or otherwise degrade Sherlock in any way.

"Aon," I answered him in Gaelic and he looked at me in confusion. Sherlock smirked beside me and I couldn't help but smile a little bit myself. I knew that Sherlock knew what I meant. I had been teaching him a bit of Gaelic over the last few weeks. He now knew some basic words and I had been making him text me in Gaelic for practice. He said he wanted to learn and I was happy to oblige.

"She said no," Sherlock clarified for Sebastian and he nodded at me, still eyeing me oddly. Yes, that's right, I'm Irish. Deal with it because there are some other things you might have to deal with if not. I took out a bloody assassin, a corporate banker would be nothing compared to that. In fact, I rather thought I would like it too much.

"No?" He asked us before turning to his secretary who was waiting by the door. "We're all sorted here, thanks," He told her and as soon as she left the room Sebastian sat down at his desk. Sherlock and John both took a seat side by side on the two chairs opposite him. I was just starting to wonder where I was going to sit before Sherlock pulled me down so I was sitting on his knee. He raised one eyebrow at me as if to ask 'Problem?' and I shook my head in return as I got comfortable and leaned back against him slightly as Sebastian raised his eyebrow at the gesture.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot," Sherlock said as he wounded a hand around my waist, keeping me in place and at the same time holding me upright slightly as I started to sag against him. It wasn't my fault he was comfortable and very warm. He huffed behind my head, but not in irritation.

"Well, some," Sebastian told him, his eyes drifting down to the arm Sherlock had wrapped around me as if silently asking a question. Sherlock shifted a little under his gaze and then his arm tightened around me slightly. I had no clue what was going on but I knew something had just passed between the two men.

"Flying all the way round the world twice in a month?" Sherlock asked him and John frowned in confusion beside us but Sebastian just laughed and pointed at Sherlock. I growled under my breath and Sherlock shushed me slightly from behind my ear. I narrowed my eyes at Sebastian as Sherlock brought his other hand up and started absentmindedly playing with the ends of my hair.

"Right. You're doing that thing," Sebastian said as he looked over at John. "We were at Uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do," Sebastian told John and I felt the blood boiling under my skin.

"It's not a trick," Sherlock and I said in unison. Sherlock said it softly but I growled lowly again as we were both ignored and Sebastian steamrolled on. Sherlock reached for my hand and rubbed circles on the back of it as I glared daggers at him wondering if I could jump the desk before John or Sherlock could haul me back.

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story," Sebastian said as Sherlock's grip tightened on me as if he was fully aware of the thoughts I was having.

"Yes, I've seen him do it," John told him uncomfortably.

"Put the wind up everybody. We hated him," Sebastian said and Sherlock turned his head way and looked down. I saw his face momentarily filling with pain before he composed his expression and turned back. I gripped the hand that was around my waist tightly and rubbed over his knuckles with my thumb and he held me a little closer to him. "You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

"I simply observed," Sherlock told him quietly as he started playing with my hair again.

"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you're quite right. How could you tell?" Sebastian asked him. Sherlock opened his mouth to answer him but Sebastian kept on speaking. "You're gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan," Sebastian said smugly as John smiled slightly. This time I did kick him. He had the decency to wince and I saw his eyes watering in pain as he attempted to school his face and not show any pain. Good.

"No, I ...," Sherlock tried but Sebastian just talked right over him.

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!" Sebastian said and by this point I had heard enough. I forced my way to standing and glared at Sebastian who was looking at me in amusement.

"As Sherlock said he simply observed. The same way I observed you in fact. You and Sherlock went to Uni together. You aren't friends, no, more like you bullied Sherlock because he was different and cleverer than you were. You can barely stand to be in the same room as one another, but that didn't stop you from contacting him about your little "incident." Most likely a break in since you asked for discretion. So that suggests that you thought he would jump at the opportunity to help you. He didn't in fact, he can barely tolerate you as can I. Not surprising that. You've had one, no… two failed marriages. Probably because you need a serious attitude adjustment. I've known many people like you. You think you're better than everyone else and that gives you the right to push everyone else around. Well, let me tell you one thing, I'm not one to be pushed around or watch someone else get pushed around. You're lucky that I'm trying to play nicely with others today. So, no, it's not a trick what Sherlock can do, it's a gift. As for how Sherlock knew about your trips around the world, it was simple really, we were just chatting with your secretary outside. She told us," I finished, my accent a thick Irish brogue in my anger. I stood there breathing heavily before I sat back down on Sherlock's lap. I heard his breathing in my ear as I crossed my arms across my chest and Sherlock's arm tightened around me again, this time in more of a hug, silent thanks for what I had done. John frowned at me as Sebastian blinked back at me in utter surprise. Sebastian laughed nervously and Sherlock smiled back at him sort of smugly. Sebastian suddenly clapped his hands together, becoming more serious but still eyeing me hesitantly. I was still angry, but I was letting Sherlock calm me down as he rubbed circles on the back of my hand.

"Well, as you said," Sebastian said, gesturing to me while I still glared at him. He was officially on my list of people I didn't like. Once you were on that list you were not coming off of it. "We've had a bit of a break in," He continued as he got up and we followed him out of his office as he led us across the trading floor towards another door. "Sir William's office… the bank's former Chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night," Sebastian continued as I scanned the trading room floor with an inquisitive eye.

"What did they steal?" John asked him as Sherlock kept one hand on the small of my back, leading me forward and effectively keeping a hand close to me as if he was waiting for me to rush forward and jump Sebastian. I was a little bit calmer now that I had told him off properly. I still was pissed, but I had meant what I said. He was lucky I was playing nice with others today for Mycroft's sake. I wouldn't categorize myself as a violent person, but some people just needed to be bitch slapped.

"Nothing. Just left a little message," Sebastian told us as he held his security card against the reader by the door to unlock it. Hanging on the plain white wall behind the large desk was a framed painted portrait of a man in a suit, presumably the late Sir William Shad himself. On the wall to the left of the portrait someone had sprayed what looked like a graffiti 'tag' in yellow paint. The tag looked vaguely like a number eight but with the top of the number left open, and above it was an almost horizontal straight line. Across the eyes of the portrait another almost horizontal straight line had been sprayed. Perhaps because of the texture of the paper or perhaps because the 'artist' over sprayed the line, the yellow paint had run trails down the painting. Sebastian led the way towards the desk and then stepped aside to allow Sherlock and me a clear view of the wall. John moved to stand on the other side of Sebastian, who looked at Sherlock expectantly as we stared in fixed concentration at the graffiti.

I moved closer to the wall and regarded it as I cocked my head to the side. I turned back to Sherlock and frowned at him. "I've seen something like this somewhere before, but I don't know where," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. After we finished up with our investigation of the wall which included me taking a few samples of scraping of the paint for analysis back at the flat, Sebastian led us back to his office and showed us the security footage of the office from the previous night.

"Sixty seconds apart," He told us as he flicked back and forth between the still taken at 23:34:01 which showed the paint on the wall and on the portrait, and a minute earlier, 23:33:01,when the wall and portrait were still clean. "So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, then left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked Sebastian as I cycled through the pictures one more time. Curiouser and curiouser. I knew I had seen the markings before but I could for the life of me figure out where.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting," Sebastian told us and I shared a look with Sherlock before Sebastian led us back down to the reception area. He brought up schematics on the screen of a layout of the trading floor and its surrounding offices. Each indicated door had a light against it showing its security status. "Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night," I said as I looked over the layout, mapping it out inside my head. Well, that was very interesting. Apparently they could walk through walls.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you and your little Scottish friend…five figures," Sebastian said as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and took out a cheque. "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian and neither does Alexandria," Sherlock told him before he walked away, pulling me with him. "Oh and she's Irish not Scottish. You would do well to remember that," Sherlock called over his shoulder as we headed back towards the lifts, ready to start doing a little investigating. As soon as the lift doors closed, Sherlock dropped my hand which he was still holding. "What you um…what you did… in the office… that was um… good," He told me, shuffling awkwardly. I reached out and slipped my hand into his and he looked down at me quickly and I watched him as he swallowed nervously. I stepped slightly closer to him and reached up on tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek before stepping back.

"I'll always have your back, Lock," I told him, giving his hand a squeeze. He nodded slightly looking forward again. We stood waiting for the lift doors to open and I smiled slightly to myself as he didn't let my hand go but rather tightened his hold around it slightly.

The lift doors opened and Sherlock led me out by the hand. We returned to Sir William's office and got Sebastian's secretary to let us in. Sherlock only dropped my hand when he need to take photographs of the graffiti on his mobile phone. Once he had taken several pictures he turned around and I could see his mind whirling as he looked to our right where the floor-to-ceiling windows showed an impressive view of the nearby Swiss Re Tower, better known as 'The Gherkin.' Sherlock frowned and looked away from the window and at me in thought for a moment before he promptly walked over to the windows and pulled up the blinds which were covering what was revealed to be a door that led out onto a small balcony. I walked over to him as he looked back at me and we raised our eyebrows at one another before he opened the door and we stepped out onto the balcony together, looking at the spectacular view over London before we looked down at the very long drop to the ground hundreds of feet below. One thing I noted was the way the building was designed. The person who got in hadn't used the door, but they had gotten in somehow. Maybe I was still in a James Bond mood, but it seemed as if a person had the right skills it would have been easy to climb from the ground onto the balcony. It would have been really risky, but the right person could have done it. They would have had to be small, strong definitely, and athletic to have been able to achieve such a feat. Sherlock looked along the balcony, obviously having the same idea I had before he bit his lip thoughtfully. He nodded once before he led me back inside, closing the door and fixing the blinds behind us.

We walked out onto the trading room floors and Sherlock let go of my hand doing the last thing I expected him to do, interpretive dance. I eyed him warily as he ducked down behind a desk and slowly raised upright, staring in concentration at the glass doorway to Sir William's office. I giggled at him and his gaze flicked to me for a second to glare at me as he huffed in annoyance before he continued staring at the doorway. I knew what he was trying to do, but there were other ways to go about it. I shrugged. What the Hell, I could live a little. Sherlock suddenly ducked sideways and hurried across the floor as I followed after him, loudly humming the Mission Impossible theme under my breath. I held my hands together like a gun and ducked around the office much to the bemusement of the traders. Sherlock continued to scamper around the floor, frequently scurrying sideways and ducking behind desks before popping up again and peering at the doorway. I hummed louder as I dropped down into a roll, popping up over a desk and pointing my fake gun around before acting like I was waving Sherlock on. I followed after him, jumping up with my back against a pillar as I loudly hummed the tune and viewed the office door. While I was doing my rather fantastic spy moves Sherlock danced around the floor again, twirling around the column I was pressed against as I waved him on. I followed him as he backed towards an office on the other side of the floor. Stopping in the doorway, he wiggled about, his eyes still fixed on Sir William's office, he turned and went into the office and headed towards the other side of the desk. I stayed in the doorway, my back pressed up against it as I held my hands up at shoulder level and looked about. I ducked into the room and rolled again, popping up behind the chair as Sherlock stood slightly behind me. He saw as I did that there was a clear view of the top of the painting and the new yellow slash across the portrait's eyes from that position. He danced sideways across the room before coming back to his previous position, confirming that this was the only place on the trading floor where the damaged portrait could be seen. I jumped to my feet as he turned and I leaned back to back with him as he finally noticed what I was doing.

"Will you stop that!?" He snapped at me as I grinned back at him with my tongue between my teeth. He huffed at me as I giggled, lowering my hands to my sides. I hadn't had that much fun in a while.

"Where would the fun be in that?" I asked him and he rolled his eyes at me. He was just jealous because I actually looked cool while doing the same thing he had. I had broken into Buckingham Palace, I knew my way around. I grinned as I thought back to my little break in. Ah, the look on Mycroft's face when he reviewed the footage and saw that I hadn't even made it on to one of the cameras. It had been absolutely priceless. Speaking of which, if I could get past Buckingham Palace's security than someone could more than well get past the security at this bank. With the right skills and careful practice you could do almost anything.

"Will you calm your hormonal outbursts woman," Sherlock huffed as I giggled at him again. Woman, seriously. Did he think that was going to hold any weight with me? I snorted at the consulting detective before he went back to work, looking around the room for some identification. He eventually walked past me to the door where two signs were attached outside. One showed that this was the office of the Hong Kong Desk Head and the sign above that gave the name of that person, an Edward Van Coon. Sherlock slid the top sign out of its holder and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him as he headed off. We took the stairs back to reception this time and I smiled to myself as Sherlock still bristled with annoyance. We met back up with John who was waiting for us back at reception.

"There you two are!" John said as soon as he saw us, coming over to join us. His eyes trailed down to our intertwined hands and he raised one eyebrow at me. I shrugged back at him before smiling as Sherlock seemed to forget his irritation with me as he rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. I knew I was too adorable to stay mad at for long. It's why Mycroft had such a hard time. Sherlock led us back towards the lifts and we road it down to the first floor, Sherlock still having not let go of my hand. "Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary; Lexi said that just to irritate him," John said and Sherlock smirked at me but didn't respond. "How did you two know?" John asked, knowing already that I had seen the same thing Sherlock had.

"Did you see his watch?" Sherlock asked John and I grinned at the detective. That was where I had figured it out too. That and he had a slight tan line. It wasn't noticeable, but the skin on his arms and face were darker than the skin on the rest of his arm which meant he had gone somewhere a lot sunnier than England and had gotten a tan, but only on the areas where he wasn't wearing his suit. It was mid-March now and the weather was cold and mostly overcast and rainy. Sherlock, John, and I had met in the middle of February, just after my thirty- first birthday so Sebastian had done a bit of traveling abroad.

"His watch?" John asked Sherlock in confusion and I nodded at him in confirmation.

"The time was right but the date was wrong. Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice but he didn't alter it," Sherlock answered him as he let go of my hand and absentmindedly started playing with my hair again. He seemed fascinated with the way my hair curled naturally in lose waves and he kept pulling on them lightly before letting them bounce back. I don't know why, but I let him do it. It wasn't bothering me so I felt no need to stop him from doing so.

"Within a month? How'd you get that part?" John asked Sherlock who gestured for me to take up that explanation.

"His watch was a new Breitling. They only came out this February. I got one for Mycroft to make up for a little trouble I caused him around my birthday," I explained to John and he nodded at me.

"Okay. So d'you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked us and I shook my head slightly causing Sherlock to pull on my curl slightly. I giggled and this time I slapped his hand away. He bit his lip and looked away from me but I slid my hand in his to let him know it was okay. I was starting to understand that Sherlock often thought he was doing something wrong which was why he closed himself off. Sometimes it was easier not to try when you thought someone wouldn't receive your affections. I still was of the mind that Sherlock actually craved human contact and affection but often starved himself of both, shutting himself off from all of that. It was why I tried harder with him than with John. I knew what it was like to shut yourself off from everyone, to give up trying. Recently I had discovered that I enjoyed being closer to Sherlock. We had moved from sitting in our chairs to sitting on the couch together. There was a change between us and I knew it wasn't just on my end. Since our last case…Sherlock was more open with me. He was still closed off for the most part from John and still snapped at him on occasion, but he had been almost lighter with me. He laughed, he smiled more, and I enjoyed the time I spent with him after John went to bed.

"Got everything we need to know already, thanks," Sherlock told John who hummed in confusion. "That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and ..." Sherlock said deliberately trailing off as he allowed me to finish his sentence.

"... they'll lead us to the person who sent it," I finished for him with a grin. That was the whole point of the message. So, Van Coon had to have understood what the symbols meant. They were definitely symbols. He worked the Hong Kong accounts that meant that they probably had something to do with China. A brief inkling of a case I had worked for Mycroft came to mind, something that had to do with China but right now my brain wasn't working properly. This is why I didn't even use nicotine. I really hated not being able to think straight. Sometimes I drank when I needed to calm my brain down but that was voluntary. I was now forced to think slower because of some bloody assassin who thought he would welcome us to the flat with a sword. I could now understand why John had been so exasperated by Sherlock and I having a sword fight in the middle of the living room. You could bet that I was going to make sure that Mycroft took care of our little friend and the fact that we were not interested in taking the case. He had cut my bloody hair for crying out loud! I knew I should be more upset about my arm which he had almost hacked off, but my arm would heal more quickly than my hair would grow back. I know, I know, priorities.

"Obvious," Sherlock said and I nudged him in the ribs playfully. I winced as my stiches pulled again. The rolling hadn't helped much either. My arm was throbbing painfully and the cut was burning again. Sherlock's brow furrowed as he silently looked over me, assessing me. He squeezed my hand comfortingly and I squeezed back as I closed my eyes tightly and took a calm breath before opening my eyes.

"Well, there's three hundred people up there. Who was it meant for?" John asked us and Sherlock and I looked at each other before looking back at John.

"Pillars," We told him in unison.

"What?" John asked us in confusion. Sherlock sighed and I nudged him in the ribs again to make him play nice. It wasn't John's fault that he didn't understand.

"Pillars and the screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot," Sherlock explained to him before he looked over at me and raised an eyebrow silently asking me, 'Is that nice enough for you?' I smiled at him and nodded.

"Does it?" John asked us as we stepped off the escalator and crossed the foyer, steeping out of the bank through the revolving doors and out onto the street.

"Traders come to work at all hours John. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight," I explained as Sherlock held up the name card to show John. "I'd wager there aren't many Van Coons in the phonebook. He was head of the Hong Kong Department," I finished as Sherlock looked down the street. He spotted what we needed immediately and held his hand out as he stepped closer to the curb.

"Taxi!" He called out loudly and the black cab slowed down as it pulled up to the curb. Sherlock opened the back door and held it open for me letting me slid in first. I got into the back of the cab and Sherlock slid in beside me, drawing me to his side as he put an arm around my shoulders. John slid in next and shut the door, eyeing us with a raised eyebrow at our current position. The way Sherlock had us sitting meant that my bad arm was cradled up against him and he was holding me in a manner that meant if the cab hit a pothole I wouldn't be jarred too badly. He knew my arm was hurting me so he was making sure that my arm was against him rather than sitting me between John and himself where it was more likely that John could bump into my arm as he didn't know I was injured. "Can you search for Vann Coon's address?" Sherlock asked me as I pulled out my phone.

"Already on it," I told him as I quickly brought up my little piece of tech and pulled up a search on Van Coons' address. There weren't many Van Coons and I quickly found what I was looking for and gave the address to the cabbie who pulled out onto the street. We rode in silence and Sherlock played with my hand in his as we drove. I nestled my head into the crook of his neck and sighed sleepily. I registered Sherlock's low baritone voice which rumbled by my ear as I drifted in and out of sleep until the cab pulled up in front of a block of flats. Sherlock nudged me awake and I raised my head and blinked sleepily as John got out of the cab and Sherlock paid the cabbie. He slid out next and reached in a hand, helping me out before he closed the door behind me. We walked over to the door of the flats and Sherlock pressed the door buzzer marked 'Van Coon'. He released the button and looked into the security camera above the buzzers and waited for a couple of seconds before he pressed the buzzer again. Once again there was no response.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked us as Sherlock and I looked over the number of buzzers on the wall. Sherlock stepped back and looked up the front of the building and I joined him, calculating the layout of the flats inside. Sherlock stepped back over to the wall leading me with him as he looked at John triumphantly.

"Just moved in," He said and I grinned already knowing where he was going with this. More adventure. This was my lucky day.

"What?" John asked us, his brow furrowing as he tried to figure out what Sherlock was talking about. I laughed and patted his arm.

"He means the floor above. The label is new," I explained to John as I pointed to the buzzer in question which had a handwritten label saying, 'Wintle' in distinctively female handwriting.

"Could have just replaced it," John commented as Sherlock pressed the buzzer and then looked at John.

"No-one ever does that," Sherlock said as a woman's voice came over the intercom. Sherlock pulled me flush against his side and it took me a second to right myself. I brushed my coat down and shook my head at the consulting detective. I knew what he was doing but a little warning might have been nice.

"Hello?" The woman, presumably Ms. Wintle asked. Sherlock turned to the camera and smiled at the same time I did, leaning my head slightly against his shoulder so that my face would be in full view too.

"Hi! Um, we live in the flat just below you. I-I don't think we've met," Sherlock said as he grinned into the camera and took my hand in his, holding it up against his chest.

"No, well, uh, I've just moved in," Ms. Wintle said and Sherlock turned slightly to throw a brief 'told you so' look at John before he turned back to the camera.

"My husband locked our keys in our flat," I said patting Sherlock on the chest lightly as I grimaced, Sherlock biting his lip plaintively.

"D'you want me to buzz you in?" Ms. Wintle asked us and I smiled in fake relief into the camera.

"Oh, could you?" I asked her and I looked up at Sherlock. "And can we use your balcony?" He added and I grinned at him slightly.

"What?" Ms. Wintle asked us and I turned back to the camera to explain to her.

"We left the balcony door unlocked. He just wants to use yours to pop down onto our balcony. It's just beneath yours," I told her shaking my head and rolling my eyes as if I seriously disapproved of this idea.

"Alright then," Ms. Wintle said as she buzzed us in. Sherlock and I held hands as we walked inside the block of flats and headed upstairs to Ms. Wintle's flat. We left John on Van Coons' floor as we took the lift up one more floor and walked over to flat fifteen and knocked on the door. Ms. Wintle answered it a moment later and let us inside as we acted like the married couple again. "Are you sure you want to use the balcony. It's not exactly safe is it?" Ms. Wintle asked us as she led us through her flat to the door that led out onto the balcony.

"Once he gets an idea into his head I can't stop him," I laughed as Sherlock stepped out onto her balcony. "Be careful love," I called over my shoulder before looking over at Ms. Wintle who was wringing her hands nervously. "Don't worry about him. He works for Scotland Yard. He's done worse than this to catch criminals if you can believe that," I assured her to set her at ease as I looked over my shoulder to where Sherlock was now climbing over the edge of her balcony. "I'm just going to go make sure he's alright," I told her and she nodded as I stepped out onto the balcony and looked over the railing. "Hanging in there?" I asked the consulting detective who was hanging from the railing. He glared up at me before he dropped down onto the balcony outside Van Coons' flat which thankfully for him the floor below had full-width balconies as opposed to this floor which only had balconies that ran half way across.

"Are you coming?" Sherlock called up to me as I stared down at him. I looked over the edge of the building at the same time as Sherlock did so on the floor below. I wasn't afraid of heights but I wasn't sure how my arm would hold out, hanging off the edge of the railing.

"I'm fine up here, thank you," I told the consulting detective who sighed in frustration as he looked up at me the hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

"Get down here woman," He told me and I shook my head as I leaned my head against my arm. "I'll catch you if that's what you're afraid of," Sherlock added and I sighed as I took a slight step back.

"Fine, you talked me into it," I told him as I put my foot up on the railing and climbed over it. I saluted Ms. Wintle who was watching me from the door way before I climbed so I was hanging in the air. As soon as I felt my stitches starting to pull I let go of the railing. I fell for a few seconds before Sherlock caught me and righted me, setting me down on my feet. I became aware of just how close I was standing to him as I looked up and was met with his beautiful azure eyes that reminded me of the crab nebula. I cleared my throat and took a step away from him, brushing off the awkward moment as I stepped over to the door that led into the flat from the balcony and turned it. Of course it was open. "They always leave them unlocked," I tutted as I breezed into the flat. Sherlock followed me into the very elegantly decorated living room. This was clearly the flat of a wealthy man, with white leather furniture, shiny black tables, and minimal clutter. Sherlock and I scanned the room as we walked through it. I glanced at the pile of books on a table as Sherlock and I walked through the kitchen. I looked over the work surface which was spotless and looked like it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life. Sherlock opened the fridge behind me and I turned to find that it was full of nothing other than bottles of champagne, expensive champagne at that. "Care for some bubbly?" I asked Sherlock with a grin as I walked past him.

The front door to the flat buzzed as I walked out of the kitchen. "Sherlock, Lexi," John called from the other side of the hall as Sherlock followed me into the hall. "Sherlock, Lexi, are you okay?" John asked us as Sherlock opened the door to the small bathroom and glanced inside. I poked my head around him and took inventory of the few items on the shelf opposite. Sherlock shut the door and I rolled me eyes as he walked to the larger door which was closed, finding it locked. "Yeah, any time you feel like letting me in," John said tetchily from the other side of the door. Sherlock turned side-on and shoulder-charged the door. It did absolutely nothing.

"Let a professional do that," I told him and he stepped away from the door and looked at me despairingly.

"By all means," He told me sarcastically and I shrugged at him before brushing past him. I eyed the door for a moment and Sherlock smirked, moving forward to take over again. I held up my hand, making final calculations as to where the weakest part of the door was before I took a few steps back and then rushed at the door, kicking it in the weakest part of the wood. The door burst open and banged against the walls as I looked back at the consulting detective and took a little bow.

"I'll be here all week," I told him with a grin as he rolled his eyes at me and brushed past me into the room. I followed him inside and we both suddenly stopped dead in our tracks as we looked over to the bed and found a man in a suit and overcoat lying on his back on the bed quite clearly dead. There was a pistol on the floor and there was a small bullet hole in his right temple. I looked over at Sherlock and shook my head in exasperation. "Well fuck," I said and Sherlock and I shared a look as he gave me a disapproving look. There went our lead. "Don't judge me with your judgy eyes," I told Sherlock, poking him in the chest as Sherlock pulled out his phone to call Lestrade.

"Don't touch anything," Sherlock told me as I moved around the room as he lifted his phone to his ear. I looked over at him despairingly.

"I know how not to contaminate a crime scene Sher. What do you think I was doing before you came along?" I asked him, snorting as I pulled out a hair elastic and tied my hair back so I wouldn't get my very noticeable red hair around the crime scene. Wouldn't do to be mistaken as the killer.

"Writing terribly dull fiction," Sherlock said and I rolled my eyes at him as I moved around the room. "Lestrade, I need you to come down to an Edward Van Coon's flat. He's dead," Sherlock said as Lestrade presumably answered the phone before he gave over the address. I made one final sweep around the room before I walked back into the hall and over to the door, behind of which I could hear John loudly cursing both our names. I opened the door and peeked out at the army doctor who looked up, his arms crossed.

"Whatever you're selling we're not buying," I told him, reciting Jack Harkness' line. John pushed off of the wall and walked over to me not at all amused. Some people just couldn't take a joke.

"About time," John snapped as I opened the door wider and let him inside the flat.

"Sorry, but we were a bit preoccupied. There's a body in the bedroom," I told John who immediately looked around and as if he was waiting for some gun or knife wielding assassin to jump out of a closet and try and murder us. That would be rather interesting however. I could go for round two with an assassin.

"A body?" John asked me in shock and I grinned as Sherlock joined us. He huffed at me as he walked into the hallway and I grinned back at him.

"Yup. Van Coon," I said as I skipped over to Sherlock. "The very best sort of case, the case of the unexpected death," I told John as Sherlock looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. "I'm high on meds, go with it," I whispered to Sherlock as I turned back to John. "Sherlock called Lestrade already so just don't touch anything until he gets here," I told John.

"Are you alright?" John asked me eyeing me oddly as Sherlock scanned me from head to toe. I bobbed my head quickly. I felt wonderful. The tiredness had worn off and now I felt completely energized. I could run a marathon. Plus, now we had a murder to investigate which meant that there was finally something fun to do. As Sherlock said, it was Christmas!

"She's experiencing a hormone imbalance," Sherlock said and John eyed me wearily. For a doctor, John didn't like to discuss anything that went on with women like that. Just him knowing I had gotten my period was enough to make him uncomfortable. Sherlock on the other hand was very clinical about it, though I had convinced him to get me a bowl of ice cream when I didn't want to move off of the couch during a period of bad cramps. How Sherlock knew before I did I will never know, but he had decided to run an experiment to see what helped with cramps the most. Some of the methods actually worked like lying on your stomach instead of curling into a ball and dying.

"Sure, blame it on that. Typical male," I sniffed as I turned around and walked back through the living room, deciding to make a few deductions before Anderson got here and pissed me off. "I am but that is completely beside the point!" I called back to the boys who were whispering in the hallway together. I looked over the flat and blinked as I made some deductions. "Oh," I said aloud as my eyes widened. Well that was interesting.

"Oh what?" Sherlock asked me as he walked inside the living room behind me followed by John both men looking slightly frightened as if they were waiting for me to go completely mental. I nodded my head as I looked around the flat, gesturing for Sherlock to take a look. He scanned the room and looked back at me, his eyes lighting hum as he caught on. "Oh," He said his eyebrows raising.

"What?" John asked us and I looked over at him with a grin before looking back at Sherlock and sharing a look with him. Things had just gotten even more interesting.

"Van Coon, he was murdered and it was made to look like suicide," I told John before Sherlock and I looked at each other and I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was. "The game is on!" We said in unison before we both turned around and headed back towards the bedroom. Two words, that summed up everything so far, well fuck.


	35. The Murder Who Can Walk Through Walls

**What ho? It's Sunday already? By George, yes, it is! Topping! Spiffing! And I had too much tea again. Hello sweeties, another chapter for you all. I'm still awake at four in the bloody morning due to insomnia so why not post it early? We've come to the point where I can now update more frequently. I know, it's fantastic! I've been a busy bee writing chapters and painting, and then I made a scarf like Lexi's plaid one by hand. Very busy, but another chapter is ready for you! **

**I must mention as I find it incredibly funny but I have 99 reviews and Moffat ain't one. Maybe if we all spam tweet Mark Gatiss we can get him to take a look at this, or Ben or Martin. *lifts eyebrow* yeah, that could work. **

**This chapter is dedicated to the following members of the Baker Street Irregualrs:**

**Mr. Smith who begged for another chapter**

**K-9 who would like me to write more Johnlock for him and Mr. Smith (We shall see dear, Mels has been a bit busy lately)**

**Ames (Oh you know why sweetie, you are fantastic)**

**Owl who knows more about this story than she should. **

**- Melody Morrision**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Three- The Murder Who Can Walk Through Walls<strong>

**'They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains,' he remarked with a smile. 'It's a very bad definition, but it does apply to detective work.' - A Study in Scarlet **

We didn't have to wait long for Van Coon's flat to be swarming with police and photographers taking pictures of Van Coon's body lying on the bed. A forensic officer was dusting for fingerprints on the nearby mirror. Sherlock took his coat off in the living room as did I and we went back to the bedroom. He handed me a pair of latex gloves and we each put a pair on as John stood beside us. We were in our natural element here. Crime scene, crime, murder… that was all we needed.

_"_D'you think he'd lost a _lot_ of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys," John asked us as Sherlock and I finally were able to start investigating around the room.

"We don't know that it _was_ suicide," Sherlock told him as I looked back at John and gave him a pointed look. Had I not already told him this was murder? I understood that he was right in thinking this might be a suicide, they were common amongst City boys who were unhappy with their jobs, but this certainly was not a suicide. Besides all you had to do was look at Vann Coon's body. The way he was so awkwardly lying on the bed seemed more like he had been placed there after his death as if someone had dragged him over to the bed and laid him down on it to make it look like it was a suicide. His limbs were just it awkward straight angles. Not the way someone would normally lay on a bed.

"John, I'm telling you, this was murder. I know murder when I see it," I told him and he looked back at me in disbelief. There were a few things I had noticed about the flat that the casual observer might not have noticed upon a glance.

"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; you two had to climb down the balcony," John said as Sherlock squatted down by a suitcase on the floor near the bed and opened it, looking at the contents. I went over to him and bent down, both hands on his shoulders as I steadied myself, taking a look at what was inside the suitcase.

"Been away three days, judging by the laundry," Sherlock said as we both stood up. There was a deep indentation in the clothing inside the case as if something was packed inside it. "Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it."

"Thanks – I'll take your word for it," John told him and I raised an eyebrow at the attitude he had. I understood he was upset we had left him outside, but we had other priorities. He could have just as well used the balcony like we had to get inside.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked him throwing a look my way. I cocked my head to the side and we both shared a look before turning back to watch John.

"Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear," John told us and I snorted. Okay, not everything you had to do was glamorous, but it was necessary. Sometimes you had to do what no one else wanted to do, like sniff a corpse, lick a substance to discover what it was. It was what made us good detectives, we were willing to do what the police at Scotland Yard would not.

"Those symbols at the bank – the graffiti. Why were they put there?" Sherlock asked me as he walked to the foot of the bed. I opened my mouth to answer him, but John instead gave his own views on it.

"What, some sort of code?" John asked us and I nodded at him. It was some sort of code, one written in symbols so only the person intended to receive it would understand the message. Most likely Van Coon owed them money or something.

"Obviously," Sherlock said as he took a close look at Van Coon's shoes and moved up, carefully opening his jacket so he could take a look at his inside pockets. "Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"

"Well, maybe he wasn't answering," John told him and I nodded at that again. If I was receiving a message or a threat I would tend to ignore it as well. It would appear that the person making the threat decided a different option. When that didn't work they paid him a personal visit.

"Oh good. You follow," Sherlock told him as he flicked his gaze up to me. I shared a look with him before I moved towards him and started my own inspection of Van Coon's body. There wasn't much to find on him. It was apparent that he was an office worker but then we already knew that.

"No," John told us and Sherlock threw him a look before he moved on to examine Van Coon's hands. I sighed and looked back at John, pausing my inspection to give him some details.

"There are some messages everyone tries to avoid John. The letters you were looking at this morning, what were they?" I asked him and John frowned back at me in confusion as he thought it out. I knew that John had an inner detective. I turned back to Van Coon and moved up to his mouth. There was something wrong about it from a medical sense, like he had something stuck in his mouth. I motioned to it and Sherlock nodded at me in understanding, sharing the same thought I had.

"Bills," John answered me as Sherlock pried open Van Coon's mouth and pulled out a small origami flower from inside as air hissed out of the dead man's lungs. I grimaced as Sherlock showed me the paper flower. It wasn't just any flower, but a lotus flower.

_"_Yes. He was being threatened," Sherlock told him as we both straightened up as a loud voice came from outside the bedroom door.

"Bag this up, will you ...," The man said as John looked closely at the paper flower Sherlock was holding as Sherlock lifted an evidence bag and put the flower into it.

"Not by the gas board," John remarked and I grinned, nodding at him. No, certainly not the gas board. Who though? I was sure I had seen something like this before, but I couldn't think of where.

"Most likely not, no," I told John who grinned at me in return. I vaguely remembered something about a case for Mycroft that seemed familiar, but I would have to ask him for the case file to review again. I would have worked it back before when I was taking cases, so at least four years ago.

"... and see if you can get prints off this glass," The man outside the door said as he walked in. He was a plain clothed police officer who looked rather young. Sherlock turned and walked towards him as soon as he entered the room while I stayed by Van Coon's body.

"Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met," Sherlock said as he offered his hand to shake. The young man put his hands on his hips. I remembered his face, but I had never been introduced to him in person before.

_"_Yeah, I know who you are; and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence," The man snapped back and Sherlock lowered his hand, giving him the evidence bag before he turned his best stroppy look on him. I was beginning to think it was just a Holmes' thing.

"I've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?"

"He's busy. _I'm_ in charge. And it's not Sergeant; it's Detective Inspector. Dimmock," The man said and Sherlock looked at him in surprised before he turned and shared his surprised look with me. I took this moment to introduce myself.

"Alexandria MacKenna, we met before but I never got your name," I told the young man stepping forward and offering him my hand. This time he shook it, nodding at me as he seemed to recall me.

"I remember you. Lestrade speaks highly of you," Dimmock told me as he walked out of the room. I followed after him, the boys trailing behind me. Dimmock handed the bag of to one of the forensics team. "We're obviously looking at a suicide."

"That does seem the only explanation of all the facts," John said as Sherlock and I took our gloves off before turning back to him. If it wasn't for the police officers in the room I might have hit him. Did no one want to listen to me besides Sherlock?

"Wrong. It's one _possible_ explanation of _some_ of the facts," Sherlock said as he turned to Dimmock. "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."

"Like?" Dimmock asked Sherlock. The consulting detective turned to me and gesture for me to answer him as I had first spotted the error that the killer had made.

"Dimmock ne sera pas nous écouter si nous lui donnons une preuve suffisante que nous avons raison. Je l'ai rencontré une fois. Il est têtu, mais je pense que nous pouvons le convaincre que nous avons raison. Anderson est pire que ce qu'il est," I told Sherlock quickly in French. I knew he would understand me. Mycroft had learnt French as a boy and it was only logical to assume that Sherlock had as well. (Dimmock won't listen to us unless we give him enough proof that we are right. I've met him once before. He's stubborn, but I think we can convince him that we're right. Anderson is worse than he is.)

"Tout le monde est pire que Anderson. Au moins, je ne perds pas tant de cellules du cerveau quand Dimmock parle," Sherlock told me, glaring slightly at Dimmock. I nodded, he was quite right. (Everyone is worse than Anderson. At least I don't lose so many brain cells when Dimmock speaks.)

"In English please! Not all of us speak multiple bloody languages," John shouted at the two of us in exasperation and we both looked at him before looking at each other and rolling our eyes. That was the entire point.

"Où est le plaisir à le faire lorsque cela vous ennuie plus?" I asked John before reverting back to English and answering Dimmock's earlier question. (Where is the fun in doing that when this annoys you more?) "The wound was on the _right_ side of his head," I told Dimmock who turned to look at me, raising one eyebrow.

"And?" He asked me arrogantly. Hmm, better than Anderson but only just. Then again, it really wasn't too difficult to be better than Anderson.

"Van Coon was left-handed," I told him as I showed him how that wouldn't work by pretending to point a gun to my right temple with my left hand. "It would have required quite a bit of contortion for him to have been able to shoot himself in his right temple."

"Left-handed?" Dimmock asked me in disbelief and I nodded at him. It was strictly obvious that Van Coon had been left handed.

"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat," Sherlock told Dimmock sarcastically. "Lexi spotted it right away, but then again she would," Sherlock continued, gesturing at me to explain how I had figured out that this was murder.

I pointed to the table beside the sofa. "The coffee table is on the left-hand side; the coffee mug handle is also pointing to the left. He habitually used the power sockets on the left. The pen and paper is on the left-hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. Would you like me to go on?" I asked Dimmock as Sherlock smirked at me, sharing our own private bit of humour.

"No, I think you've covered it," John told me tiredly.

"Oh, she might as well; she's almost at the bottom of the list," Sherlock told him and John nodded as if to say, 'Yeah, I thought she might' Sherlock gestured for me to continue and I nodded once before pointing towards the kitchen.

_"_There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left," I said as I turned to Dimmock as Sherlock threw him an impatient look. "It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the _right_ side of his head. I can be proof of that. I am left handed. If I were to shoot myself I would do it on the left side of my head. You're right handed. Would you shoot the left side of your head? No, because it would require too much contortion. If you truly wanted to commit suicide you would want to do it as painlessly for yourself as possible. So why shoot the right side of you head if you were left handed? Slip once and you could have to suffer through a slow, painful death. Therefore, the only conclusion is that someone must have broken in to Van Coon's flat and murdered him but they didn't notice what we did. Statistically most people are right handed. Had it not been for the killers mistake I would have thought it was suicide too. As Sherlock said you like one solution and you are ignoring any facts that do not comply with it. The only explanation of all the facts presented is that Van Coon was murdered and did not commit suicide."

"But the gun: why ...," Dimmock began before Sherlock interrupted him.

"He was _waiting_ for the killer. He'd been threatened," Sherlock said as he walked away and stated putting on his coat, scarf and gloves. I joined him and he helped me slip into my coat being careful for my arm before he tied my scarf for me so I wouldn't pull on my stitches more than I already had. As it was I was going to have to change the gauze when I got back to the flat and make sure I hadn't ripped any of them.

_"_What?" Dimmock asked us as I lifted my hands and fixed Sherlock's scarf. I didn't even realize when he froze as I smoothed down the collar of his jacket and brushed the lint off of his shoulders before lowering my hands.

"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning," John told Dimmock as we looked back at him.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in," Sherlock told him. I had noticed this too. He had powder burns on his hands and the room still smelt faintly of gun powder.

"And the bullet?" Dimmock asked us as Sherlock and I shared a look. Sherlock nudged me to answer him. I sighed before looking back at Dimmock.

"The bullet went through the open window," I told him and he stared back at us in disbelief.

"Oh, come on! What are the chances of _that_?!" Dimmock asked him and before I could answer him, Sherlock jumped in and defended me.

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it," Sherlock told him and I nodded in agreement with him. The way it played out was that Van Coon had seen the warning and hurried home. He locked himself in his room with his gun because he knew they were coming for him. Somehow they surprised him. Vann Coon was shot in the head and the shot intended for his adversary flew through the open window. If I had enough time and the weather conditions around the time Van Coon was murdered I might have been able to calculate the velocity and possible trajectory of where the bullet had flown, but that wouldn't be necessary as soon as they got the ballistics report.

"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?" Dimmock asked us as I pulled my gloves out of the pocket of my coat and slipped them on. The air had gotten steadily colder as it moved towards night time.

"Good! You're finally asking the right questions," Sherlock said condescendingly as he dramatically slammed his hand into his gloves. He turned and flounced out leaving John and I behind before he called for me. "Lexi!" I looked round at John and Dimmock and nodded at the D.I. before I took off after Sherlock, John just behind me pointing apologetically at the both of us before following me.

"Did you have to do that?" John asked us as soon as we were back in the lift and away from all of the police officers. "Would it kill you to be nice for once instead of showing off?"

"Yes," Sherlock and I answered in unison before we shared a smirk. John glared at us and I sighed as Sherlock pulled out his phone and began texting someone. "John, Sherlock and I are used to people not listening to a word we say. Why would they? They are the police and we are consulting detectives. It is the equivalent of a parent not believing everything their child says. Sometimes the only way you can be heard is by showing off. No, it isn't nice, but it gets us results," I told him and he nodded after a second, not exactly understanding, but endeavouring to.

"Where are we headed then?" John asked us as Sherlock lowered his phone and stowed it back away in his coat pocket.

"To see Sebastian. I just texted his secretary and she told me where he was currently. We'll report to him what we've found out so far," Sherlock said as we stepped out of the lift and walked out of the building. Sherlock hailed us a cab and we piled in like we had before, Sherlock holding me so that my arm was against him rather than John. We arrived at the restaurant that Sherlock had given the cabbie the address to and we all crawled out of the cab. I leaned back inside and paid the cabbie before following John and Sherlock into the restaurant. We quickly located Sebastian's table where he was having dinner with some clients or work colleagues. I didn't care to deduce either one, preferring to stand beside Sherlock stonily.

"... and he's left trying to sort of cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done!" Sebastian was laughing as we walked over to his table. Sherlock stood slightly beside me, one hand on my elbow as if he was afraid to let me stand so close to Sebastian without one hand close enough to me in case I went off on him again. He had seen what happened when Mantlo pissed me off after all.

"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant," Sherlock told him as Sebastian looked up at us and then back at his clients, definitely clients, not colleagues.

"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" Sebastian asked us with a bit of bite to his words. I glared back at him and was about to answer him but Sherlock quickly did so himself.

"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders – someone who worked in your office – was killed," Sherlock told him as he rubbed my elbow comfortingly. I took a deep breath and let it out, leaning slightly into Sherlock's shoulder as I tried to calm down. I wasn't sure what it was that made me so angry around Sebastian, but he sort of reminded me of my father a bit, the way he thought what we did was only a trick and nothing more.

"What?" Sebastian spluttered in disbelief.

"Van Coon. The police are at his flat," John told him as I spared a look at his clients. Rich business types, investors. Well, they might consider not doing business after this.

"Killed?" Sebastian asked in shock. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Yes, killed, murdered. In how many ways did you have to say it before the news sunk in to his thick skull?

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion," Sherlock began sarcastically before I cut him off, finally having enough with Sebastian.

"Still want us to make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard be good for you? I'm sure they would have some excellent questions for you," I said and Sebastian put down his water glass and nervously ran a finger inside his suit collar. He got up, excusing himself from his clients before he hurriedly gestured for us to follow him. We followed him through the restaurant and back to where the bathrooms were. He entered the men's room and John and Sherlock made to follow him before they realized I wasn't coming with them.

"Um…," John said as he looked between the door and me. Sherlock eyed me as if he was seeing what I would do. I shook my head at him and gestured back to the restaurant.

"I'll wait out there, you talk with him. I'll end up killing him if I spend too much time with him anyway," I told Sherlock who nodded at me before we went our separate ways. I walked back into the dining room, planning to walk outside and wait for John and Sherlock out there, but I heard my name called behind me. I turned around and found Anthea sitting at a table with Mycroft and another gentleman. Mycroft nodded at me and I approached the table as both men stood.

"Alexandria," Mycroft greeted me and I smiled slightly back at him as I allowed him to take my hand and kiss it. We were only formal with one another on these occasions, when he had someone important with him. "Might I introduce Lord Bellford," Mycroft said gesturing to the other gentleman who took my hand and kissed the back of it as Mycroft had.

"A pleasure sir, Alexandria MacKenna," I told him forcing myself to be polite and he grinned at me as Mycroft eyed me, silently thanking me for behaving. I knew how to act properly, I just chose not to half of the time. I didn't like formalities as they reminded me too much of my father, but I wouldn't embarrass Mycroft.

"You would be Lord MacKenna's daughter then?" Lord Bellford asked me and I nodded, smiling sweetly at him though inside I was grimacing, hating to be addressed as Lord MacKenna's daughter. I wanted nothing to do with the man that was my father including being thought of as his anything. I shared a surname with him that was all.

"I would be," I told him and Mycroft sighed that I hadn't made a remark though I had wanted to.

"Please join us," Lord Bellfast offered, gesturing to the free chair. I looked at Mycroft and saw that he didn't expect me too. I silently thanked him. I couldn't stand the company right now. John and Sherlock were fine. I could be Lexi with them. Around people that Mycroft knew like Lord Bellfast I had to be Alexandria.

"I must decline, I'm currently on a case for Scotland Yard," I told Lord Bellfast who raised an eyebrow at me in surprise.

Here we go again with woman of my rank in society. This was where my father and I had also disagreed. My father was a Lord. In fact, he was the head of clan MacKenna. Being a woman of high class my father expected me to marry another equally high class man, someone like Mycroft in fact who was influential in government. I however refused to marry someone like that. I adored Mycroft, but people like Lord Bellfast I despised as they thought they were better than everyone else because they were "high class." My father would never forgive me for becoming a consulting detective or before that a chemist, a professor, and a pathologist. These jobs were beneath me in his eyes. I however would not be dependent upon his money. I wasn't going to accept if I didn't acknowledge him as my father. It was safe to say that when I informed him of my plans after leaving college that he had swiftly disowned me. Shortly thereafter my grandfather died and I finished my graduate work and lived with my friend Mary before moving to London. I hadn't heard a word from him in over twelve years nor had I gone back to my family home.

"Ah you are a police officer," He said almost condescendingly. Mycroft stiffened and I saw Anthea wince as they both got ready for my outburst at this. I will be forever proud of myself for what I did next.

"A consulting detective actually," I answered him with a sniff before looking back at Mycroft. "I should go find my colleagues. Good day," I told the group before stalking of back towards the bathroom. I didn't care if they weren't done with Sebastian or not, we were leaving. I was done with people who looked down on me because of what I chose to do with my life. I was no longer Alexandria, I was Lexi and I was proud to be who I was.

As I was walking back into the hall I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and was suddenly walked into. I felt to hands on my shoulders, steadying me and I looked up to find Sebastian looking down at me. "Sorry, didn't see you there," He said as he dropped his hands. I nodded at him and he moved around me before turning back. "You know, you and Holmes, you're cute together I'll give you that but someone of your fire needs a real man, someone who can take care of you, not that freak. Dinner with me tomorrow night?' Sebastian asked me with a smirk as I turned back to him.

I snorted at him as I regarded him with distain. Had he actually been serious? He couldn't be as I knew he wasn't saying that to me of all people. "A real man? Someone to take care of me? I'll have you know I don't need a man or someone to take care of me as I can bloody well take care of myself just fine thank you. I wouldn't go to dinner with you even if you were the last person on Earth. As for Sherlock, he is more of a man than you could ever be and he certainly is not a freak. I am glad to be his, he's all I need and want," I spat at Sebastian who grinned back at me as if he thought I was funny. That's it, I was going to punch him right in his smug face. I took a deep breath and breathed it out heavily through my nose as I glared daggers at Sebastian.

"You really are loyal to him. I thought so, seeing you together. Friends are you?" Sebastian asked me before walking away. "My offer still stands," He called over his shoulder as I flipped him off, swearing at him under my breath in as many languages as I knew. I couldn't believe him! I needed a man? Someone to take care of me? Well, if he met my fist he would be singing a completely different tune. He was the biggest idiot I had ever met, surpassing even Anderson, if he thought I would ever have dinner with him.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened behind me and I turned, jumping slightly in surprise as I was pulled out of my murderous thoughts as Sherlock and John exited from the men's room, speaking quickly with one another. Sherlock's eyes fell on me and he frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked me, breaking off from his conversation with John as the army doctor looked over at me worried now.

"Nothing," I told him, waving him off. "Ran into Mycroft and then quite literally into Sebastian. What did you find out?" I asked him changing the subject as Sherlock's eyes drifted down to my arm, obviously wondering if it had something to do with that. Now that I thought more about it my arm hurt like a SOB. More pain meds were in my future and then a cuppa and a nap.

"Van Coon went to Oxford. He worked in Asia so Sebastian gave him the Hong Kong accounts. Apparently he lost five million in a single morning but made it all back a week later. He couldn't tell us if there were anyone who would want to kill him. He refused to say more as the police told his Chairman that it was suicide," Sherlock bit out and I rolled my eyes. Of course they wouldn't listen to us.

"So now we have to figure out why Van Coon was killed and by who and what the message meant. Am I missing anything?" I asked the boys with a heavy sigh.

"No, I think that's all of it," John told me and I nodded before looking at Sherlock.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked him and he looked at me and then my arm again as he contemplated his answer.

"Back to the flat. We can't do anything more without more evidence. Tomorrow we can start figuring out what the symbols might mean," Sherlock told us and I nodded at him in agreement. Going back to the flat sounded rather nice about now.

We left the restaurant and hailed a cab back to Baker Street. I threw one look over in Mycroft's direction as we left and he looked up catching my eye as I walked out with Sherlock's hand on the small of my back. He raised one eyebrow at me and I raised one right back as I looked quickly at Lord Bellford and then back at him. He nodded slightly and I knew he understood not to question me about it. I climbed into the back of the cab and snuggled against Sherlock's shoulder on the ride back to Baker Street, breathing in the faint smell of tea, chemicals, and London rain that clung to his coat. The scent calmed me and I relaxed against him. When we arrived back at Baker Street the three of us trudged up the stairs, saying a quick hello to Mrs. Hudson. She wouldn't let me leave until I had taken a plate of biscuits up to the flat with me. John decided to turn in early and I stayed up for a bit with Sherlock, taking advantage of John's absence to take more of my meds. I changed into my tank top and bed shorts before padding back into the living room. Sherlock was already waiting for the roll of gauze and tape and he wordlessly gestured for me to sit on the couch before he took my old, bloody gauze off. My stitches had pulled, but still were in good condition. Sherlock gently dabbed on the antibiotic cream before applying the fresh gauze before he wordlessly got up to put the stuff away. I walked over and took a biscuit off of the tray, nibbling on the corner before I went and picked up my viola and played a few notes. A few minutes later Sherlock came back and picked up his violin before starting Bach's violin concerto in A minor. I played with him and when I finally grew tired, I left him to play. I said good night to him and made for my room before I heard him calling for me.

"Lexi," He said and I walked back through the kitchen and poked my head into the living room.

"Yes Sher?" I asked him as he looked back at me, violin still balanced on his shoulder but his bow lowered to his side. He seemed to be studying me, almost as if he was hesitating with what he wanted to say to me. I nodded at him encouragingly and he sighed before answering me.

"Your nightmares, what are they about?" Sherlock asked me. The question surprised me as I wasn't aware of the fact that he knew I had night mares. I knew I didn't scream in my sleep no matter how bad they got. I locked eyes with Sherlock and we stared back at each other for a long moment before I answered him. I didn't like talking about them, just as I knew John didn't like talking about the nightmares of war he had. I had woken up once or twice and padded about the flat only to hear him whimpering upstairs. I had gone up there and sung to him an old Irish lullaby until he had grown more peaceful. I never told him I did it, but I knew it helped him. I knew he would never like to be seen as weak which was why I never mentioned to him that I knew.

"The past," I told him simply before turning around and walking away. I padded back through the kitchen and down the hall to my room. I entered my room and shut the door behind me and sighing. I pulled a sweater over me to hide my arm before crawling into bed and letting sleep over take me. That night, the music of a single violin filled my dreams.

I woke up with a groan and rolled over in bed, staring up at the dust motes that hang in the sunbeams. I pulled myself up to sitting and yawned, stretching the sleep from my limbs. I cursed when my stitches pulled before I got out of bed and wrapped my sweater around myself as I shuffled out of my room sleepily. From the kitchen I could see that Sherlock had printed out photographs of the graffiti near and across Sir William's portrait and had stuck them around the mirror of the fireplace. He was sitting in one of the dining chairs with his back to the dining table and he had his fingers steepled under his chin as he stared at the photos intently. Something caught my eye then and I noticed a mug of tea sitting on the edge of the kitchen table closest to me, steam still rising from the top of the tea. I smiled and picked up the mug, lifting it to my mouth and taking a sip. Exactly how I liked it. I looked at Sherlock and deduced that it had recently been made. He must have known I would be up soon.

"Morning Sher," I said as I shuffled into the living room and over to Sherlock's chair sinking into it. I looked up at the pictures on the mirror, studying them. I hadn't expected Sherlock to actually answer me as he seemed lost in his own thoughts, therefore it surprised me when he did.

"Hmm? Morning," Sherlock told me, turning his head to look at me. His eyes trailed over to my arm and he immediately popped out of his chair and left the room. He returned moments later with the gauze and we repeated the process from the night before as I sipped at my tea. We he finished he cleared everything away and came back to sit in his chair.

"Thank you Lock," I told the consulting detective. He had been helpful lately and he seemed to be looking out for me in the way he was so diligently taking care of my arm. It still burnt and was inflamed, but I knew that it would heal soon enough. It was relatively shallow and a clean cut and should heal given time and adequate rest. I assumed John was still asleep as he wasn't down in the living room. "Have you figured anything out about the symbols?" I asked Sherlock and he hummed before looking at me.

"No, I have no clue what they are," He told me as I got up and crossed over to the desk, pulling my laptop off of it. I brought it back over to Sherlock's chair and booted it up. Once it was completely brought up I looked back to the desk where I had left my flash drive.

"Could you pass me that?" I asked Sherlock, pointing out my flash drive. He wordlessly leaned across to the desk and retrieved it for me before handing it off to me. I put it into my computer and opened my file records. After every case I solved I would write up case notes which I stored on my flash drive. Unfortunately I had over four years' worth of case notes. I would have to go through all of them and read through them in order to possibly find the right one.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked me curiously as I opened the first file and started scanning through it. I held a finger up to him, indicating for him to wait a moment as I finished my current paragraph before I looked up to answer him.

"This case reminds me of one I worked for Mycroft before. I used to write up a summary of all my cases after I solved them, even for those I worked for him. I neglected to indicate which cases were the ones I worked for Mycroft so I have to go through all of them," I explained to Sherlock who raised an eyebrow in interest.

"You recognize the symbols then?" He asked me and I shook my head quickly before cocking my head to the right as I looked back at the pictures.

"Yes and no. I recognize them from somewhere, but I can't remember what they are and my brain has gone fuzzy from the meds. Whoever used the symbols was coming to collect though. They would have tried to send him a message beforehand, but when he refused to answer them they must have come to meet him in person. Obviously they weren't satisfied with the answer he gave them. I think we are working with more than one person. Probably a planner and an enforcer. I have a feeling that the person behind planning this would be in charge, the boss or the teacher. They don't often get their hands dirty with the work so they would have someone else doing things for them like the killings. Whoever the enforcer is he would have to be small and athletic. John said something yesterday that got me thinking. He mentioned that even we had to use the balcony above Van Coon's flat to get inside it. It's possible the person who murdered Van Coon entered in a similar fashion," I told Sherlock, sharing my deductions with him as he listened to me intently.

"You think he can climb?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded at him. It was one theory I had. Right now I couldn't be certain as there was no way to prove that the murderer had climbed into Van Coon's flat as there had been no evidence of it at the crime scene. Therefore the killer was rather smart and knew what he or she was doing. Odd are that the murderer was most likely male. I wasn't being sexist, but statistics showed that men rather than women typically committed murder.

"It's one theory I have. It would explain how he got into Van Coon's flat and into the office at Shad Sanderson. The balcony door was the only one on the schematics of the building that you didn't need a key card to access. It's the only hole I can see in the security there. The only thing wrong with that is that Van Coon's flat and the late Sir William's office are not exactly on the first floor," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me in agreement. "The problem for us now is that the police are calling it a suicide when we gave them sufficient evidence that it's not," I said and Sherlock's expression darkened

"They're all idiots. They took the theory they liked and let facts suit their misguided theories rather than having their theories be supported by the facts," Sherlock told me bitterly. I sighed and reached over putting my hand over his in comfort. He looked down at it and I drew my hand back, playing with the ends of my sweater instead.

"I know, but we can't do anything about it right now. Our best chance is to figure out what the symbols mean which will lead us to Van Coon's killer," I told Sherlock before getting up and setting my laptop down in Sherlock's chair.

I left him to study the pictures more as I went back to my room and pulled on a pair of jeans and one of my own jumpers, a green v neck. I pulled on Sherlock's socks and my black converse sneakers before I crossed over into the bathroom and pulled a brush through my hair before brushing my teeth. I returned to the living room and got comfortable in Sherlock's chair again, going through the files now that I was fully dressed. Sherlock and I sat in companionable silence, happy to silently go about our own work. Within the next hour the sound off footsteps broke me out of my long summary about a serial killer case that I had worked, a case in which I had been hit by a taxi while chasing after him throughout London. John came through the door and walked in, dropping his jacket onto his chair.

_"_I said, "Could you pass me a pen?"" Sherlock suddenly said without looking up. John looked around the living room as if he was expecting Sherlock to be talking to someone else. I shook my head, indicating that Sherlock had not been talking to me. I would have remembered if he had asked me that.

_"_What? When?" John asked him in confusion.

"'Bout an hour ago," Sherlock answered him and John sighed in exasperation.

"Didn't notice I'd gone out, then," He said as he picked up a pen from the table beside his chair and, without even looking at Sherlock, tossed it in his general direction. Sherlock lifted his left hand and caught it without even looking away from the photographs on the wall. "And why couldn't you have asked Lexi?" John asked Sherlock as he walked over to the mirror to look more closely at the photographs.

"Because Lexi was studying the pictures and now she is taking a break," Sherlock answered John as I looked up at the army doctor and waved at him. He looked round at me as did Sherlock, finally breaking his staring contest with the pictures.

"John, I didn't know you were heading out this morning," I said as closed my laptop and placed it back on the desk. I had gone through most of my case files and I had yet to find anything. It was possible I hadn't written anything on the case. If I hadn't solved it, something that happened every now and again, than it was highly likely I had just given the file back to Mycroft and forgotten about the case.

"Yeah, I went to see about a job at that surgery," John told me as I sipped at my tea which was still warm, absentmindedly rubbing my hand over my arm. Sherlock leaned forward when John wasn't looking and slapped my hand away. When I went to slap him back he slipped one of my pills into my hand. I looked at him and grinned but he had already turned back to his pictures. I took my pill before John looked back and caught me.

"How was it?" Sherlock asked John as I took a look at the pictures as well. They made no more since today than they had yesterday. They still were a mystery to me but I was even more sure today that I had seen them somewhere before.

"It's great. She's great," John said absentmindedly. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. Oh, she was great was she? I grinned at the army doctor. Trust him to go out for a job interview and end up meeting a woman.

"Who?" Sherlock asked John, picking up on the same thing I had. John Watson, the ladies' man.

"The job," John answered him as he looked round at us, noticing what he had said.

""She"?" I asked him with a mischievous smile and I saw him swallow nervously. Got him. Very smooth Watson. "There was a she was there?"

"... It," He told me and Sherlock and I looked at each other knowingly before eyeing John suspiciously.

"Do I get to meet this she?" I asked John and he grinned back at me, shaking his head slightly.

"Maybe," He told me before Sherlock cut off our banter by jerking his head to his right towards his desk.

"Here, have a look," Sherlock told us he got up and walked over to his desk and looked at the web page that was open on his computer. I got up as John hummed a sound of hmm and followed me as I bent over Sherlock's shoulder to see what he wanted to show us. It was a lead article on the 'Online News.' The page was headlined, "Ghostly killer leaves a mystery for police." Next to the headline was a picture of a bald man and under it the article read: An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl's Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no apparent signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in….

"The intruder who can walk through walls," John said as I looked down at Sherlock. It seemed to me as if whoever murdered Van Coon had been making his rounds. As John had said, the intruder who could walk through walls.

"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside – exactly the same as Van Coon," Sherlock told us as we shared a look. It was the exactly same thing, but Lukis was a freelance journalist and Van Coon was a banker. They had nothing in common in terms of a job. The only thing that connected these murders is that they were killed in a similar fashion. John straightened up and looked at the two of us in disbelief.

"God. You think ...," He said before trailing off. I nodded at him in confirmation before Sherlock and I answered him in unison. "He's killed another one." Well, it would seem as if this case was getting more and more interesting. Two murders, no motive, and the killer could walk through walls. The game was most definitely on.


	36. Codes and Ciphers

**(A/N) Thank you for the reviews and follows/favourites for the last chapter! I hope you are all ready for the Blind Banker to continue and I am going to keep this brief. I'm posting this a few hours early so hopefully this will all get to you at a good time. This chapter is dedicated to guest reviewer Willow owl. Thank you dear, I loved the song and I certainly think it fits Lexi too! I love that book series by the way. I have read them, but thanks for the suggestion sweetie. Hope you all like the chapter! See you next Sunday sweeties. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Four- Codes and Ciphers<strong>

**"I am an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles."  
>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Complete Sherlock Holmes<em>**

Sherlock and I moved to get on our coats and I grabbed my case bag, slipping my laptop into it before I slung on my scarf. John followed us as we left the flat and headed down the stairs. Sherlock hailed us a cab and the three of us squeezed together, Sherlock and me taking our same seats from the day before. John eyed us, but made no comment as to what we were doing. So far we had been able to hide any evidence of my injury from him and that was the way we were going to keep it. Sherlock and I were both of the mind-set that if John were to find out about the assassin in the flat, he might be inclined to want to leave us.

"Where is the connection between Van Coon and Lukis?" John suddenly asked Sherlock and me. The detective and I shared a long look before I looked across to our army doctor and looked at him for a long moment before I answered him.

"None except that they were killed in the same way. It's why we need to see Dimmock. We need to see the crime scene before they get rid of any evidence there might be," I told John as I shared a look with Sherlock.

"Unless the cerebrally challenged already got rid of any evidence," Sherlock gripped and I sighed heavily before patting him on the arm.

"Let's try and play nicely with the other children Lock," I told him and he rolled his eyes at me as John smirked. It looked like it was just going to be one of those days with Sherlock. We arrived at Scotland Yard and we all jumped out of the cab. Sherlock ran on ahead of us and I shook my head at him fondly before paying the cabbie and darting off after him. John and I met him in Dimmock's division where he was already pestering the man behind his desk and waiting impatiently for my laptop. I got it out and handed it over to him as Sherlock booted it up. I nudged him out of the way and put in my password before letting him have it again. It was funny watching how childish he was being. D.I. Dimmock sat behind his desk with his arms folded in exasperation as Sherlock typed on my laptop, bringing up the news article he had shown us.

"Brian Lukis, freelance journalist. Murdered in his flat...," Sherlock told Dimmock as he turned my laptop around to show the D.I. the web page. "...doors locked from the inside."

"You've gotta admit, it's similar," John told Dimmock as the D.I. scowled at my laptop screen. "Both men killed by someone who can...," John said hesitating momentarily as if he was unable to believe what he was about to say, but he persevered onwards."...walk through solid walls."

"Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another City suicide?" Sherlock asked Dimmock as the man squirmed in his seat, not meeting his eyes. Sherlock looked up at him in exasperation and sighed. "You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?" Sherlock asked him as I regarded the D.I.

"Mmm," Dimmock answered him with a nod. Exactly as I suspected.

"And the shot that killed him wasn't from his own gun was it?" I asked Dimmock and he turned to look at me, squirming a little again.

"No," He told me reluctantly and Sherlock and I shared a look. That proved that we were telling Dimmock the truth. The bullet that killed Van Coon hadn't been from his own gun so that could only mean that Van Coon was murdered and had not committed suicide, exactly as Sherlock and I had been saying all along.

"No. So this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take our word as gospel," Sherlock snapped at the D.I. I gave him a silent warning to be nice as Dimmock looked back at him silently. Sherlock leaned forward over his desk and spoke quietly but intensely into his face. "We've just handed you a murder enquiry," He said before nodding towards the picture of Lukis on the computer and speaking louder. "Five minutes in his flat."

Dimmock relented and followed us down stairs. Sherlock refused to go with him in his police car so the three of us hailed a cab out to Lukis' flat and the D.I. followed behind us. We arrived in a reasonable amount of time and Sherlock helped me out of the cab before paying the cabbie. We headed up to Lukis' flat and Sherlock and I ducked under the police tape at the bottom of the stairs inside the door of the flat before heading upstairs. John and Dimmock followed us as we looked around at everything as we went. We entered the living room to find an open suitcase on the floor. Odd that, Lukis had also been on a trip recently like Van Coon. Nearby on the carpet there was a black origami flower similar to the one that Sherlock had pulled from Van Coon's mouth. There were books everywhere on the desk, on the bookshelves, and scattered all around the floor. Several open newspapers were also lying on the floor. Sherlock walked over to the kitchen and looked through the window at the nearby roof tops of lower buildings. I followed him over and took a peek over his shoulder as he pushed the net curtain back for a better look and smirked before looking back at me.

"Four floors up. That's why they think they're safe. Put a chain across the door and bolt it shut; think they're impregnable," He told me as he walked into the middle of the room again. "They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in," Sherlock remarked as he turned back toward the stairs and spotted the skylight above the landing.

"I don't understand," Dimmock said as Sherlock and I walked out onto the landing.

"Should be on a t shirt," I muttered and Sherlock caught my eye, smirking slightly at me in amusement. He schooled his face when he looked back at the D.I.

"You're dealing with a killer who can climb," Sherlock told Dimmock as he hopped up onto a box to get closer to the skylight which was high up on the angled roof.

"What are you doing?" Dimmock asked us as he and John followed us over to the skylight.

"He clings to the walls like an insect," Sherlock told me as he unhooked the latch and pushed the window upwards. I reached up when he offered me a hand and I stood up on the box with him. He knelt down slightly after bracing open the skylight and linked his hands together. I braced my hands against his shoulders before letting him give me a leg up. I popped my head through the skylight and took a look out over the roof. I gestured for him to help me down and he lowered me by the waist back onto the floor.

"This was how he got in," I told Dimmock, pointing up at the skylight. Having looked out onto the roof I had seen it would have only been too easy for someone to have dropped through it. In fact if I was in better condition than I was currently, I might have been able to get inside Lukis' flat in a similar manner.

"What?!" He asked me in disbelief as Sherlock and I shared a look, silently sharing our deductions with one another. John eyed us warily. I knew he was a bit adamant to believe us as well. We had worked other cases with him, but even he was new to our process.

"He must have climbed up the side of the walls and then ran along the roof. It would have been easy enough to drop through the skylight. I managed to fit through it so he would have to be around my size. Probably a bit shorter though. He would have had to be light of foot as well to have landed without giving too much warning to Lukis," I concluded as I looked at the floor, looking for any signs of a disturbance, most likely in the dust.

"You're not serious! Like Spiderman?!" Dimmock asked me and I shook my head, rolling my eyes. Of course we would be met with some level of resistance. Dimmock couldn't ignore the fact that we had been right that Van Coon didn't commit suicide, but he was adamant to believe we were right about Lukis. Our names held a reputation at the Yard and not all good. Dimmock had heard about the both of us and whether Lestrade had said good things about me or not was not going to convince another D.I. to listen to us even if we were right. I could understand from his point of view why he would be hesitant to listen to us. His job would be on the line if we were wrong and he had never worked with us before. To him we sounded like raving lunatics with crazy theories, even if our first deductions had been supported with evidence.

"Not exactly no. He would have had to scale six floors of the Docklands apartment building and then jumped onto the balcony to kill Van Coon. He's a bit more skilled than a vigilantly comic book hero," I told Dimmock offhandedly completely missing the exasperated look he and John threw my way,

"Oh, ho-hold on!" Dimmock said, laughing in disbelief as I looked across to Sherlock and gestured for him to take over for me.

"And of course that's how he got into the bank. He ran along the window ledge and onto the terrace," Sherlock said as he stepped down onto the landing beside me and looked around again. "We have to find out what connects these two men," He told me more than he told Dimmock. I watched as his eyes fell on the pile of books scattered up the side of the staircase. I followed him as he jumped down a few of the stairs and he picked up one particular book which had fallen open at its front page which showed it had been borrowed from the West Kensington Library. He showed it to me for a second and I nodded at him before he slammed the book shut and took it with him as the both of us headed off down the stairs. John joined us outside a moment later as Sherlock hailed us a cab to follow up on our new lead. We slid inside before he asked us where we were headed off to in such a hurry. I took the book from Sherlock and showed it to John.

"Lukis checked this book out from the West Kensington Library. The way it fell on the stairs suggest that he might have had it in hand when he came back to his flat. Something caused him to drop it, most likely our killer making his presence known to Lukis. It's not much to go on, but the library is also not far from Lukis' flat," I explained to John, my point being proven as the cab pulled up in front of the library. "Thank you," I told the cabbie, paying him before I got out onto the curbing with Sherlock and John, handing the book back to Sherlock. We headed inside the library and got on the escalator to the top floor after I directed Sherlock as to where the book would have been located after scanning around at the books on the ground floor and quickly figuring out the system of how the books were categorized. From there it was easy to find our way to the aisle where Lukis' book came from.

"Date stamped on the book is the same day that he died," Sherlock said, checking the reference number stuck to the bottom of the book's spine and showing it to me as we went to the correct place along the shelves and started pulling out books, examining them together. John started pulling out some books on a nearby shelf on the other side of the aisles as Sherlock keep piling books into my arms after he was done with them.

"Sherlock, Lexi," John said suddenly and we turned to see John staring into the gap left by the books he removed. We stepped over to him after I shoved the books back onto the shelf and Sherlock reached to the shelf and pulled out most of the books with one hand, stacking them in John's arms this time before he pulled out another huge handful of books with his other hand, revealing the same two symbols that were sprayed across Sir William Shad's office.

"Excellent work John," I complimented the army doctor as Sherlock handed me the second stack of books and pulled his phone out, snapping a few pictures of the symbols. "You know, I'm not a pack mule," I told Sherlock and he looked back at me, rolling his eyes before he took the books back from me and shoved them on shelf as John struggled to keep a hold of all of his and put them back at the same time. I helped John replace the books on the shelf before turning to Sherlock. "The plot thickens," I told Sherlock and he nodded as he stared intently at his phone. "Back to Baker Street?" I asked him and he nodded before I looked across to John and shook my head gesturing to Sherlock who was now fully absorbed in his phone.

I led him by the arms back down stairs and out to the curbing, hailing us a cab. I slid in before he crawled in next to me, leaving enough room for John to squeeze in before we were headed of back to the flat. I paid the cabbie once again as we piled out of the cab before walking up to the door and unlocking it. We trudged upstairs to the flat and Sherlock immediately went over to his computer, downloading the pictures off of his phone and printing them out before adding the photographs of the shelf to his collage around the mirror in the living room. While he was doing this I had removed my case back and thrown it into Sherlock's chair before untying my scarf. I knew we weren't going to be back in the flat long. As soon as we figured out another lead we would be heading off so I wasn't about to get too comfortable. The three of us stood in front of the fireplace looking at the pictures.

"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher for Van Coon; Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in. Hours later, he dies," Sherlock said, staring at the first pictures as John studied the new pictures we had.

"The killer finds Lukis at the library; he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen; Lukis goes home," John said and I nodded at that before I tilted my head to the right and put my hand under my chin, leaning slightly against Sherlock's shoulder.

"The killer was waiting for Lukis in his flat or he showed up later that night. We know he used the skylight, but Lukis dropped his book so he might have been worried that he was being followed. In his haste he dropped the book, but he was expecting the killer to use the front door just like Van Coon did. Both men thought they were safe because they didn't live on the first floor. Neither of them expected their killer to be an experienced climber. Most likely the killer was following him, but used the skylight to surprise Lukis because he knew the man would be expecting him. Our killer comes in late that night and he dies too," I concluded grimly.

"Why did they die, Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked us softly as Sherlock ran his fingers over the line painted across Sir William's face.

"Only the cipher can tell us," Sherlock told him as he thoughtfully taped his finger against the photo as his expression sharpened. Apparently he had an idea as he turned back to John and I. "Ready to go out again?" He asked me and I laughed, nodding my head.

"I was already expecting it," I told him with a grin, tying my scarf again as John shook his head in exasperation. I followed Sherlock back downstairs and one more cab ride later and we were walking through the centre of Trafalgar Square heading towards the National Gallery. I couldn't remember the last time a case had taken me this much running all over the city to solve, but I loved it. It was nice to have new leads to follow, to feel like I was actively on the case. This was better than many of the cases we had been working lately.

"The world's run on codes and ciphers, John. From the million-pound security system at the bank, to the PIN machine you took exception to, cryptography inhabits our every waking moment," Sherlock explained as we walked across the square. I walked between my boys, one arm linked through each of theirs.

"Yes, okay, but...," John said and I nodded at him as I saw where he was going with that train of thought.

"...but it's all computer-generated: electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it," Sherlock concluded. He was right. If this was a modern code than I could have broken it with my cryptography knowledge which I had been taught by an old friend, but this was an ancient device and far beyond my current knowledge to decipher it until I could figure out why I recognized it.

"Where are we headed?" John asked us and I looked at Sherlock raising one of my eyebrows silently asking him, _'Yes, where are we headed?'_

"I need to ask some advice," Sherlock said and I could see how much of a struggle it was for him to admit it. I patted him on the arm consolingly as I shook my head fondly at the consulting detective. That was where Sherlock and I differed. I was not against asking others for help if I knew they knew more about a particular subject than I did. Sherlock on the other hand preferred to work without any outside help. Of course, he accepted my help and my insight, but that was slightly different as we were actively working the case together in a partnership.

"What?! Sorry?!" John asked him and Sherlock threw him a black look as John smiled back at him in disbelief. I nudged him in the ribs telling him to stop looking so smug.

"You heard me perfectly. I'm not saying it again," Sherlock told him darkly and I sighed in frustration. Why did I have to be like the mother, stopping two children from fighting?

"You need advice?" John clarified and I fixed him with a glare. He didn't need to go poking the bear any more than he already had. It was bad enough what he had already said.

"On painting, yes. I need to talk to an expert," Sherlock told him as he lead us towards the entrance to the National Gallery and then straight around to the rear of the building where we found a young man spray painting a stencil onto a solid grey metal door. The image was of a policeman holding a rifle in his hands. The image had a pig's snout in place of a human's nose. At the man's feet was a large canvas bag full of spray paint and he held a spray can in both hands. With one of the cans he was spraying his tag, 'RAZ' apparently, below the image as he added the finishing touches to his "artwork." He continued to spray, unperturbed, as the three of us approached him. I stood next to Sherlock with my hands in my pockets as we stopped by him and I noticed he was no more than a boy.

"Part of a new exhibition," He said as we looked at his artwork. He had talent, I would give him that much. Vandalism wasn't really my thing, but I couldn't deny that many street artist had talent.

"Interesting," Sherlock told him disinterestedly. Sherlock knew him and well enough so this wasn't the first time he had consulted him for help before. Raz looked well enough so I doubted that he lived on the streets. Most likely he was a troubled youth.

"I call it Urbanbloodlustfrenzy," He told us, saying it all like it was one word as he chuckled.

"Catchy!" John told him sarcastically, glancing at me sidelong. I shrugged at him as Raz continued spraying.

"I'm sure it'll definitely catch on," I said, raising my eyebrow slightly as I tilted my head to the side to see if that made the picture any better. It didn't really. If you squinted a lot it almost looked like modern art.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes round that corner," He told Sherlock as he looked round at him. "Can we do this while I'm workin'?" He asked Sherlock who had taken his phone out from his coat pocket and held it out towards Raz who turned around and tossed one of the spray cans at John. John instinctively caught it and looked at Sherlock, Raz, and I in bewilderment. Raz took Sherlock's phone and scrolled through the photographs of the yellow ciphers from Sir William's office and the library.

"Know the author?" Sherlock asked him as he pulled me slightly closer to him. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he ignored me.

"Recognise the paint. It's like Michigan; hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc," Raz told us. Of course, a graffiti artist would be able to tell us what sort of paint was used which, while interesting, didn't tell us that much about the author.

"What about the symbols: d'you recognise them?" Sherlock pressed him as Raz squinted at the pictures.

"Not even sure it's a proper language," Raz told us and I nodded at him before leaning over and pointing out the symbols on the phone.

"I don't think it is either. It doesn't look like any symbols from any languages I know. It could actually be something made up. Like a language used by a secret society," I added as I looked round at Sherlock. I looked back to find Raz eyeing me up and down as if he had finally taken notice of me.

"Who is your very pretty friend?" Raz asked Sherlock as he offered out his hand for me to shake. I rolled my eyes at him, nod in the mood right now to play those sort of games. I had already dealt with Sebastian enough on this case.

"Two men have been murdered, Raz. Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them," Sherlock cut in, pulling me closer to him again. I caught Raz smirk as he looked down at the pictures again and then snorted.

"What, and this is all you've got to go on? It's hardly much, now, is it?" He asked us as Sherlock kept one hand on my arm. "Are you gonna help us or not?" Sherlock snapped at him and I looked up at him, putting a hand on his arm to calm him down.

"I'll ask around," Raz told him, holding up his hands defensively.

"Somebody must know something about it," Sherlock said just as a loud "Oi!" was shouted at us. The four of us turned to look round and we saw two Community Support Officers hurrying towards us. Sherlock instantly grabbed his phone from Raz and grabbed my hand, pulling me off with him in the opposite direction. We booked it out of there together and I didn't look back to see if John was following us as we legged it through the streets. Pedestrians jumped out of our way and we continued running even after we had gotten far enough away where we wouldn't be caught. I laughed loudly at the thrill of it as Sherlock and I darted across the road and his deep baritone laugh mixed with mine as our coats flew behind us. We made it all the way back to the flat together, breathing heavily as we made it inside the door and leaned against the wall like we had after out cab chase during our first case together. Sherlock and I grinned at each other before breathlessly laughing again as Sherlock and I peeled off our coats and scarfs. I was immediately aware of the fact that it was only the two of us.

"Where's John?" I asked Sherlock as I sat down on the bottom of the stairs as I caught my breath. Sherlock looked back towards the door then at me, shrugging.

"I don't know. Must have lost us. I'm sure he'll find his way back," Sherlock told me and I nodded before I let him help me up and we headed back up to the flat. I wasn't too worried about John. Most likely he hadn't been able to catch up with us and would make it back to the flat soon. We hung up our coats and scarfs behind the door and I made tea for the both of us as Sherlock busied himself with looking up various ciphers and pictograms, pinning the copied down codes to the mirror above the fireplace which was now almost completely covered. I handed Sherlock his mug of tea and we stood there together in front of the fireplace looking all of the codes over.

We got lost in our work, setting down our tea after a while as I took the pictures over to the desk and started trying to figure out of maybe the symbols stood for a certain word. There seemed to be no set code or anything that I could think of. It wasn't a pictogram and it wasn't like your modern ciphers. Suddenly the door slammed below and I looked over at the clock to find it had been more than an hour. John immediately walked into the living room and slammed the kitchen door shut as he walked past it. I could tell that for whatever reason he was mad as hell which was very not good.

"You've been a while," Sherlock said without turning around or looking up. I got up from behind Sherlock's desk as John walked a few more paces into the living room, his shoulders rigid and his fists clenched. He stopped, blinking as he fought to hold in his anger before he turned to Sherlock and me.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they?" John asked us tightly and my eyes widened in shock as he started pacing, an angry half-smile half-grimace on his face as I bit my lip nervously. "Just formalities: fingerprints, charge sheet; and I've gotta be in Magistrates Court on Tuesday."

"What?" Sherlock asked him absently, having clearly not heard a word he said. I shot him a warning look but it was already too late.

"Me, Sherlock, in court on Tuesday," John shouted angrily as he put on a rough London accent. "They're givin' me an ASBO!" He finished as I pulled out my phone from my pocket and sent a quick text off to Mycroft.

"Good. Fine," Sherlock told him still not paying any attention. My phone alerted me to a text and I checked it, sending a reply before putting my phone back into my pocket.

"You wanna tell your little pal he's welcome to go and own up any time," John told Sherlock tightly as I walked over to Sherlock's side.

"I took care of it for you," I told John just as Sherlock slammed the book he was reading shut.

"This symbol, I still can't place it," He said angrily as he turned and put his book down. He suddenly got up and walked over to John who had just started to take his jacket off. Sherlock pulled his jacket back onto John's shoulders. "No, I need you to go to the police station...," Sherlock told him as Sherlock turned him around and steered him towards the door.

"Oi, oi, oi!" John complained indignantly as I stepped forward ready to have to get between the both of them before they started a fight.

"...ask about the journalist," Sherlock continued as I groaned.

"Oh, Jesus!" John exclaimed in exasperation as Sherlock grabbed his own coat from the back of the door and pulled it on before taking my coat down. As soon as he spotted me behind him he walked over and made me drop my arms to the side before he pulled my coat on for me and quickly tied my scarf around my neck.

"His personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary, or something that will tell us his movements," Sherlock said as the three of us went downstairs and out onto the street. "Gonna go and see Van Coon's P.A. If we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide," Sherlock finished as he walked off down the street. I stayed with John and Sherlock turned around, looking back at me. "Are you coming?" Sherlock asked me raising one eyebrow. I frowned at him in confusion pointing between him and John.

"Didn't you want me to go with John?" I asked him and he quickly shook his head as he walked back towards us and grabbed my hand.

"No, I want you with me," Sherlock said before dragging me with him back down the road. I looked back at John who was shaking his head and I mouthed sorry to him as I let Sherlock pull me away. "Your insight on the case as proven valuable to me so far. John should be able to retrace Lukis' steps on his own well enough. I need you with me," Sherlock told me as he hailed us an approaching black cab. When it pulled up to the curbing he opened the door and let me slid in first before joining me inside and shutting the door. "You said you recognized the cipher before. Have you found out why?" Sherlock asked me as the cab pulled out into traffic after Sherlock told the cabbie where we were headed.

"No, not even remotely and I couldn't find anything on it in my case files. Most likely it was a case I didn't solve and I gave the file back to Mycroft. I'm not going to ask him about it either. He's done enough for me lately and I would rather not ask him for favours if I don't need to," I told Sherlock and he grimaced at the mention of Mycroft's name. We rode in silence the rest of the way to Shad Sanderson. Sherlock paid the cabbie and the two of us headed inside the bank. This time round we were able to just walk up to Van Coon's office. We met with Van Coon's personal assistant, Amanda who brought up Van Coon's online calendar on his computer for us.

"Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team," Amanda told us as Sherlock and I leaned over her shoulder and took a look at the computer screen.

"Can you print us up a copy?" Sherlock asked her as I scanned through the calendar. Nothing seemed to out of place, mostly meetings but that was to be expected, he was head of the Hong Kong accounts.

"Sure," Amanda agreed with a nod. It wasn't much to go on, but maybe John would have more luck with Lukis' things.

"What about the day he died? Can you tell us where he was?" Sherlock asked her and she looked at screen before looking back at us with a frown.

"Sorry. Bit of a gap," She said as I found that she was right. The calendar showed no entries at all for Monday the 22nd. Sherlock looked away, frustrated before Amanda's eyes widened slightly as she seemed to just realise something.

"I have all his receipts," She said as she got up from behind the desk. "Wait here, I'll go get them for you," She told us before she walked off. I looked over at Sherlock and we shared a look. Every day was filled with meetings save one, so what was Van Coon doing on the day he died.

**John's POV**

John stood to the side as Detective Inspector Dimmock stood at a desk, rummaging through a box of Brian Lukis' possessions. John wasn't happy. First he had had to explain why he would have wanted to vandalize a building, of course no answer would satisfy the Community Support Officers to prove that he hadn't been the one to have actually spray painted that on the building. Next he had his finger prints take, a charge sheet made up and, then a court date set. They were giving him and ASBO, a bloody ASBO. Then Sherlock had the nerve to ask him to come to Scotland Yard on a little errand for him. He couldn't fault Lexi, well, not entirely. It wasn't like she had stayed behind with him either and said anything, but John had noticed when Sherlock had immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. John didn't know what, but there was definitely something going on between the two detectives. They were, closer than before. That didn't mean that Sherlock wasn't being a complete and utter git.

"Your friend...," Dimmock began and John stopped him there.

"Listen: whatever you say, I'm behind you one hundred percent," John told him and Dimmock looked at him pointedly as he finished.

"...he's an arrogant sod," Dimmock finished and John snorted.

"Well, that was mild! People say a lot worse than that," John told him as Dimmock handed him the diary.

"Your friend Alexandria. She's not as arrogant, cheeky yes, but Lestrade was right about her. This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?" Dimmock asked John as he took the diary and flicked through it, opening it at a page which had been bookmarked with a boarding pass to Dalian Zhoushuizi International Airport to London Heathrow Airport on Zhuang Airlines. Now, that was interesting.

**Lexi's POV**

Amanda spread out Van Coon's receipts on her desk for us to look at and Sherlock and I leaned over them. I riffled through them, trying to connect the dots of where Van Coon had been on the day he had died.

"What kind of a boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" Sherlock asked Amanda and I looked up at the woman and we shared a look that only women would understand.

"Um, no. That's not a word I'd use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag," Amanda told us as Sherlock knelt down on the floor to give himself easier access to the receipts. As he took off his gloves he looked up and I followed his gaze to find a pump-action bottle of luxury hand lotion at the back of Amanda's desk. It was the sort of stuff I might find Anthea using so it was rather expensive. Not something Amanda could have bought on her salary.

"Stuff like that hand cream. Eddie bought that for you, didn't he?" I asked her and she fiddled nervously with a pin in her hair as she looked up at me in surprise. "His brother buys me similar things," I told her pointing to Sherlock as he shuffled through the paperwork and picked up a receipt from a licensed taxi. It was dated the 22nd of March 2010 and was timed at 10:35 Am. The receipt was for £18.50. He handed it up to Amanda.

"Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty," He said as she looked down at it frowning slightly.

"That would get him to the office," Amanda told us and I shook my head at that, sharing a look with Sherlock. He nodded at me, obviously realizing the same thing I had.

"Not rush hour; check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as ...," Sherlock said before Amanda cut him off, having remembered something important.

"The West End. I remember him saying," Amanda told us as I found a London Underground ticket with the same date on it. It had been issued at "Piccadilly." I handed it up to Amanda.

"Underground. Printed at one in Piccadilly," Sherlock said as he looked over at it before I handed it to her.

"So he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?" Amanda asked us in confusion. Well, we knew that Van Coon returned from a trip recently. There had been something packed tightly in his suitcase. Most likely he was making a delivery of some sort. That was the best deduction I could make from that. So, a taxi would be easier to deliver something heavy.

"Because he was delivering something heavy. Didn't want to lug a package up the escalator," Sherlock told her as he continued to rummage through the receipts. Well, at least he was on the same train of thought as I was.

"Delivering?" Amanda asked us and I nodded at her.

"Yes, must have been to somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Van Coon dropped the package, delivered it and then ...," I said as Sherlock found another receipt and stood up as he looked at it. He showed it to me and it was from the Piazza Espresso Bar Italiano.

"...stopped on his way. He got peckish," Sherlock said. We thanked Amanda before heading back down stairs where Sherlock and I started retracing Van Coon's steps. We took a cab to Van Coon's flat before getting out and hailing a different cab, taking it down to the West End as Van Coon had. We headed off on foot after that and we found the espresso bar.

"So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station, but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you ...?' Sherlock said, talking to himself as he spun around as he walked, bumping into someone approaching from behind who was also distracted and not looking where he was going. I smiled when I saw that it was John who was engrossed in looking down at Lukis' diary. Sherlock grunted as they collided and John looked up in surprise at finding the both of us here.

"Small world isn't it?" I asked the army doctor with a laugh as I grinned and gave him a hug.

"Right," John told me with his own grin.

"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died – whatever was hidden inside that case. I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information...," Sherlock shot off at rapid fire.

"Sherlock...," John tried to stop him but to no avail.

"…credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here," Sherlock continued on as John huffed in exasperation.

"Lock…," I tried, but Sherlock continued on, completely ignoring the two of us.

"Somewhere in this street; somewhere near. I don't know where, but...," Sherlock said as John pointed to the other side of the road.

"That shop over there," John told Sherlock who looked at the shop and then looked back at John frowning. I laughed at his expression as John had already shown me Lukis' diary and I already knew what he was talking about.

"How can you tell?" Sherlock asked him disgruntledly, not liking that John knew more than he did.

"Lukis' diary," John told him as he showed Sherlock the entry he had shown me. "He was here too. He wrote down the address," John told him as he turned and the two of us headed towards the shop together.

"Oh," Sherlock said behind us before following off after us, slipping his hand into mine. I grinned up at the consulting detective.

It would seem that we were finally on the right path now that we had information from Lukis' death as well. Unfortunately for Lukis, his death seemed to be exactly what we needed in order to start piecing together the events that surrounded Van Coon's murder that would help us decipher the cipher and no doubtedly, discover who their killer was. We were on the right track and we had been brought all the way to China Town. Things were starting to get rather interesting now. I let go of Sherlock's hand as the three of us walked into a touristy shop which consisted largely of decorative cats which were sitting up on their hind legs with one paw raised. Some of the paws were waving back and forth. It was your typical Chinese lucky cat. It was a little odd why Van Coon and Lukis might enter this sort of store. They didn't seem the type of buy a lucky cat. Both men also travelled to China recently. If they wanted traditional Chinese things they could have bought them when they were actually in China. I therefore high doubted that they had been in here to browse.

"Hello," John greeted the female Chinese shop keep politely as the three of us looked around at all of the items on display. The shop keeper lifted one of the cats from the desk.

"You want lucky cat?" The shop keeper asked us and John shook his head as I walked over to him and stood there next to him with my hands linked behind my back, rocking on the balls of my feet slightly.

"No, thanks. No," John told her as Sherlock looked round at him and caught my eye as he smirked. I could chastise him since I wasn't helping John out either.

"Ten pound. Ten pound!" The shop keeper insisted. As nice as the lucky cats were, I doubted that Yorrick or Angus would appreciate its existence in our flat. I had already had to fight to keep Angus. I of course had won that argument with Sherlock, though I couldn't exactly call it an argument. It consisted of Sherlock complaining that Angus needed to go and me saying that I wanted him exactly where he was.

"No," John told her smiling awkwardly.

"I think your wife, she will like!" The shop keeper said, gesturing to me and I laughed at that as John eyed me in surprise that she had thought we were married.

"No, thank you. I already have enough troubles cleaning up after my husband. You should see the mess he makes. It's lovely, but I don't know where we would put it," I told the shop keeper with a smile and we shared a look that women knew well enough. I led John over to one of the tables which had small ceramic painted handle-less cups on it. Sherlock was examining a rack of clay statues behind us. John picked up one of the cups and turned it over to look at the price tag. I noticed that his hand started to tremble and I looked at him in concern.

"John?" I asked him worriedly at the same time he called for Sherlock. Sherlock put down the statue he had picked up and walked over to us. John showed us the label, answering my previous question I had had for him.

"The label there," John said as I looked over his shoulder and saw that the label was the same almost eight with the slash over the top of it that had been in Sir William's office.

"Yes, I see it," Sherlock told him as he looked at it as well.

"Exactly the same as the cipher," John told us as he cleared his throat awkwardly and put the cup back. Sherlock lifted his head and looked at me and I nodded at him. I now understood where I had seen the cipher before. The three of us left the shop and started off down the street, walking further into China Town toward the market.

"It's an ancient number system! Hangzhou," Sherlock told us as we walked. "These days, only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library," He said as we walked over to a greengrocer's which had some of its wares on display outside the shop. The various boxes had handwritten signs on them giving the names of the vegetables in both Chinese and English, and underneath that was the cost of that particular item in both Hangzhou and English. Sherlock started picking up various signs, checking the symbols. "Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect," He continued and I nodded.

"It's why I recognized them. I remember where I saw them before now. Mycroft had me work a case for him. Similar symbols keep being found around the city. Mycroft wanted me to see what they were," I said as I walked around John and found a sign with the upside down eight and the slash above it with its English equivalent beneath it. "This is the number fifteen, what we thought was the artist's tag. I would have never figured it out without finding the connection to China Town. I had almost completely forgotten about the case. I never solved it. I figured out the numbers, but I never found out the message. Mycroft took me off of the case," I told the boys as I showed them the sign.

"And the blindfold – the horizontal line? That was a number as well," Sherlock said as he showed us a price tag with an almost- horizontal line at the top and "£1" written underneath. "The Chinese number one," He said grinning triumphantly.

"We've found it!' John said as Sherlock turned and walked away. I followed after him hurriedly. It made since why I had been so familiar with them before. If only I remembered the case sooner. Now that I knew what I was looking at it would only be too easy to translate the rest of the numbers. I had only ever gotten that far before, I never had any evidence to work off of like I did in the case of Van Coon's and Lukis' murders. This time we might actually be able to get somewhere. John caught up with us a second later and I decided to fill them in with what I knew.

"They're not actually Hangzhou," I told Sherlock and he opened his mouth to, probably tell me I was wrong, but I held up my hand for him to let me speak. "You are right though, it is an ancient number system," I continued after elbowing John in the ribs to get him to stop smiling smugly for me having told Sherlock he was wrong. "They're Suzhou numerals or huama. It's a numeral system that was used in China before the introduction of Arabic numerals. The Suzhou numeral system is the only surviving variation of the rod numeral system. The rod numeral system is a positional numeral system used by the Chinese in mathematics. Suzhou numerals are a variation of the Southern Song rod numerals. They were used as shorthand in number-intensive areas of commerce like accounting and bookkeeping. The standard Chinese numerals were used in formal writing but Suzhou numerals were once popular in Chinese marketplaces like those in Hong Kong. They've been gradually supplanted by the Arabic numerals but the Suzhou numeral system is still used for displaying prices in Chinese markets or on traditional handwritten invoices. Van Coon was head of the Hong Kong accounts so he would have recognized them. I don't know how Lukis did, but he travelled to China as well. If he was buying goods in the marketplaces he might have gotten familiar with them," I concluded.

"So, now we find out what business Van Coon and Lukis had at The Lucky Cat," Sherlock said as he pushed open the door of the restaurant opposite the shop. John and I filed inside past him and we took up residence at a table in the window. John and I ordered something to eat as Sherlock stared out of the window intently at the shop opposite to us. We set about staking out the tourist shop and Sherlock started writing the two Hangzhou or Suzhou numbers and their English equivalents onto a paper napkin after asking one of the waitresses for a pen. John sat across from him also writing notes as I sat beside Sherlock and sipped at my green tea.

"Two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium. What did they see?" John asked us as we sat. Good question, but I was starting to work it out now.

"It's not what they saw; it's what they both brought back in those suitcases," Sherlock said and I grinned behind my tea cup. That was exactly what I had been thinking. Both Vann Coon's and Lukis' suitcases looked like they had been packed with something.

"And you don't mean duty free," John joked said as a waitress brought over our food and put it down in front of us. Sherlock wasn't eating of course as he was still saying all that crap about how digestion slowed him down. "Thank you," John said as I opened my chopsticks and started eating.

"Think about what Sebastian told us; about Van Coon – about how he stayed afloat in the market," Sherlock told us as I took a bite of my sweet and sour chicken.

"Lost five million...," John started before Sherlock finished for him.

"...made it back in a week," Sherlock said as John hummed in agreement. I held up a piece of chicken in front of Sherlock's mouth and he took it, chewing on it absentmindedly. John and I shared a look as I grinned in triumph back at the army doctor. "That's how he made such easy money," Sherlock finished as he swallowed the first bite I had given him and accepted another bite of chicken.

"He was a smuggler. Mmm," John remarked as he took a mouthful of food.

"A man like him, it would have been perfect. He was a business man. Van Coon made frequent trips to Asia for his job and Lukis was the same. He was a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out of the country which is evident by their suitcases. I'm sure if you were to check airline records you could find that their suitcases came back a few pounds heavier. The Lucky Cat was their drop-off," I said, showing off to John who was eating with a fork by picking up a single grain of rice with my chopsticks before sticking out my tongue at him when he glared at me. I popped the grain of rice into my mouth before feeding some to the consulting detective who took it and chewed it again. I also managed to get him to drink a few sips of my water while he was thinking and not fully paying attention to what I was getting him to do.

"But why did they die? I mean, it doesn't make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?" John asked us as Sherlock and I sat back thoughtfully for a few seconds. Sherlock smiled as he seemed to realize the answer.

"What if one of them was light-fingered?" Sherlock asked us. Oh, clever! That fit my theory too. I had an idea, but I was still piecing everything together.

"How d'you mean?" John asked us in confusion.

"Stole something; something from the hoard," Sherlock clarified as I sat upright and looked up at Sherlock contemplatively.

"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it, so he threatens them both. Right," John said as Sherlock looked out of the window towards the shop. I watched his gaze as he looked up to the windows above it before looking down at the ground floor level again, his gaze sharpening.

"Remind me...," He said as my gaze fell on the Yellow Pages phone directory sealed in a plastic wrapper which had been left outside the door to the flat beside the Lucky Cat. "…when was the last time that it rained?" Sherlock finished before pushing me out of the booth and taking my hand without waiting for a reply. I followed him across the street to the door of the flat as John dutifully followed after us. Sherlock bent down to the Yellow Pages. The plastic wrapper still had drops of water on it and the top of it had broken open a little. Sherlock ran his fingers over the top of the wet, exposed pages of the directory. "It's been here since Monday," Sherlock told me as he straightened up and pressed the doorbell beside the door. The flat belonged to a Soo Lin if the handwritten nameplate was any indication. Sherlock only waited for a couple of seconds before he looked up to his right and headed off in that direction taking me with him. He led us into an alleyway beside the flat. "No-one's been in that flat for at least three days," Sherlock told us as we walked down the alley.

"Could've gone on holiday," John pointed out and I frowned as I looked up. Something wasn't right here.

"D'you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" Sherlock asked John as we reached the rear of the building and looked up to see a cantilevered metal fire escape above our heads. Sherlock let go of my hand and took a short run at it. He jumped up and grabbed the end, pulling it down towards him until it touched the ground. He then ran up the steps towards the open window of the flat. As he reached the top, the ladder swung back to the horizontal position behind him.

"Sherlock!" John shouted up to Sherlock as he realized that he was way too short to pull the ladder down again. I was just about to suggest to him that I get it down for the both of us before he turned and ran off back along the alley to the front of the building. I threw up my hands in exasperation as I took off after him. Bloody men!

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock climbed in through the window into the kitchen, then cried out in muffled alarm as he almost knocked a vase of flowers off the table beside the window. He managed to catch it before it hit the floor and he looked down to find a wet patch on the rung in the precise place where the vase would have hit if it had reached the floor. Sherlock straightened up and called out of the open window, unaware that John and Lexi were no longer there.

"Someone else has been here," Sherlock called back as he put the vase back onto the table, he looked around, talking quietly to himself as he continued. "Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase just like I did," He said as he looked round the kitchen, then bent down to the washing machine and opened it. He took an item of Soo Lin's unmentionables and sniffed it before grimacing. Downstairs the doorbell rang as Sherlock put the item back into the washing machine and pushed the door closed to keep the foul smell away. He reached for the tea towel that was hanging nearby.

"D'you think maybe you could let me in this time?" John shouted from outside as Sherlock felt the tea towel. It was dry, not much to learn from that. He moved on through the flat as John called again this time sounding louder. "Can you not keep doing this, please?" He shouted as Sherlock took a pint of milk out of the fridge and took off the lid, sniffing the contents before grimacing again.

"I'm not the first," Sherlock called down to John and presumably Lexi. It was odd, her not being here. Sherlock would have thought that she would be the first to follow him. The ladder wouldn't have been a problem for her, she was only a few inches shorter than him. He didn't like her to be so far out of his sight. She had already injured herself twice.

**Lexi's POV**

"What?" John called back to Sherlock as I crossed my arms and sighed heavily. This was absolutely ridiculous.

"Somebody's been in here before me!" Sherlock suddenly yelled back and I blinked in surprise.

"What are you saying?" John called back as I thought about what I had heard Sherlock say. The person who had entered Soo Lin's flat had gone through the window just as our acrobat had. "I'm wasting my breath," John suddenly said as I gasped in surprise. In every other case the window was closed, so why was the window open now? The killer wouldn't be that stupid, no… he was still there. I gave no explanation to John as I suddenly jumped and booked it back around to the alley. I stopped with the ladder above me and looked at it before nodding in determination. I heard the sounds of a scuffled come through from the open window and I quickly darted down a ways before turning and looking at the ladder.

"Here goes nothing," I said before breaking into a run. I jumped up at the last second and my hands came in contact with the metal of the ladder. My weight added to it, pulled it down and I hurriedly climbed up before I dove in through the window with a little roll. I popped up to find someone knelt over Sherlock, strangling him with a long white silk scarf. Sherlock had his hands around the scarf trying to relieve the pressure on his neck but his assailant who was dressed all in black continued to throttle him. He was struggling to call for John and me. I leapt to my feet and I was thankful for the element of surprise as the attacker seemed not to notice me yet. "Oi!" I shouted at him getting his attention. The attacker looked up at me and sprang up right. I grabbed a flimsy chair and broke it over my leg, coming back with a stick as the attacker came at me. I blocked his fist with the stick and we entered a fight as he broke his own chair and we started stick sparring. I had been right he was small, athletic, size eight feet, and had very strong hands.

"No, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with… my MASSIVE INTELLECT!" John suddenly shouted from downstairs. I looked over at Sherlock as I continued to dance around the flat with his attacker in a game of wills. He was skilled and faster than I was. I could see that Sherlock had lost consciousness. My brief look to see if Sherlock was alright cost me as his attacker surprised me by kicking me in the stomach. I let out a yelp of surprise as I flew backwards and hit the wall, sliding down it as the wind was knocked out of me. I looked up, blinking blearily as the assailant shoved something into my hand, then ran off. Sherlock suddenly stated choking and coughing, tugging the scarf from around his neck, rolling onto his front before he got up onto his hands and knees. I coughed as I tried to catch my breath, my stomach now painful and sore. I managed to get up to my hands and knees as our attacker disappeared through the beaded curtain into the kitchen. Sherlock groaned and pulled his own scarf loose as I did the same, the both of us gasping as we got our breath back. Sherlock suddenly looked up and noticed me. He quickly sat up on his heels and rummage in his coat pocket before pulling out a black origami paper flower. I looked down at what I was still holding in my hand and found that it was an identical black flower. Sherlock stumbled to his feet and came over to me, helping me to standing.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock coughed out, putting his hands on my shoulders as he looked me over. "Lexi, are you alright?" He asked me again when I didn't answer him the first time.

"I'm okay," I told him after another cough. "Just got the wind knocked out of me, that's all," I assured him before I reached up and carefully touched his neck. He winced and looked away from me as I probed at the tender flesh of his neck. "Are you alright?" I asked him worriedly.

He nodded at me, coughing again. "Fine," He told me, taking my hand in his before he pulled himself together and brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear before he pulled me with him, the both of us wobbling towards the stairs. We opened the door to find John who made and exasperated sound and glared at the both of us.

"The, uh, milk's gone off and the washing's starting to smell. Somebody left here in a hurry three days ago," Sherlock said, his voice all croaky. I looked up at him in concern. He seemed alright, but his neck was already starting to bruise. It was a good thing he had his scarf. It seemed like this would be another thing that we wouldn't be mentioning to John. He didn't realize how dangerous our cases could be. Well a bit. He had seen us almost die in his first case with us and then I had almost died in our last case together when I was kidnapped. The thought that it was dangerous enough where you could get into situations when you were surprised attacked was what we were afraid of John finding out. There was only so much someone could handle before the left and we didn't want to lose our army doctor.

"Somebody?" John asked him and I nodded at him in confirmation.

"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her," I told John my voice equally as croaky. Sherlock looked down suddenly and bent to pick something off of the floor near my feet.

"But how, exactly?" John asked us in exasperation as Sherlock picked up a folded envelope. He showed me the back of it which had 'Soo Lin, Please ring me. Tell me you're ok.- Andy' written on it. He unfolded the envelope and looked at the front of it. Printed on the bottom right hand corner was National Antiquities Museum.

"Maybe we could start with this," Sherlock said his voice still croaky as he walked out, pulling me with him as I close the door behind us. We headed off down the road, John following behind us as I coughed again. I was probably going to have a bruise the size of a size eight foot on my abdomen by night fall.

"You two alright? You've gone all croaky. Are you two getting a cold?" John asked us and we shook out heads as we continued on walking.

"We're fine," We said in unison through our coughing. We would be fine but whoever Soon Lin was, she wasn't fine. I wasn't sure how she was connected to all of this, but she lived right next door to The Lucky Cat. Maybe she had seen something she wasn't supposed to see or maybe she was somehow connected with the smuggling ring that Lukis and Van Coon had been associated with. If anything, we had figure out what the symbols were and now we had a new lead to go off on. With any luck we would find out the key to cracking the cipher soon.


	37. The Black Lotus

(A/N) Yes, another chapter and a day early. I have to be out of the house all day tomorrow so you get the chapter a day early! The next chapter gets posted on Tuesday because I have an appointment Wednesday to check my vision. Let's cross our fingers for good rather than bad news. The story still progresses despite my crappy vision however!

Willow owl: Ha you are speaking to a Clash fan! Yes, I do believe he would be listening to this in his head.

Guest: Um, I can't actually answer that question but I think it's a combination of tea and what my Mum would call my mental insanity. Look see I do read these! I love writing in fact I do it every day. I talk about my characters like real people too so my Mum gets rather confused. Just wait until the character of Joanna enters the story in season two. Wowza! No, no don't do that…don't worship me. I'd be a terrible God. You wouldn't get a day off for starters.

This chapter is dedicated to Kim97. I'm glad the story is helping you so much sweetie. We have more of Sherlock's POV in a few chapters too. I want to leave you guess about what he thinks about her until then, but it'll be good. They're getting there in their relationship.

Alright, I won't keep you, on to the chapter and I hope you like the changes I've made. Not everything that happened in the episodes will be the same if I see fit and it doesn't change the plot line too much. You should like the changes though. Allons-y! –Melody

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty-Five – The Black Lotus<strong>

"**There is no satisfaction in vengeance unless the offender has time to realize who it is that strikes him, and why retribution has come upon him."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet**

**Lexi's POV**

We took a cab to the National Antiquities Museum. Sherlock's scarf hid most of the bruises that were starting to form around his neck and my shirt covered my own developing bruise. Sherlock was talking more normally now, but his voice was still a bit hoarse. My stomach ached, but I had stopped coughing. I did an inventory on myself. The kick to my stomach hadn't broken anything and wasn't bad enough to have to worry about internal bleeding. The worst part would be the foot sized bruise that I would have to hide from John and most likely Mycroft unless he knew already. I rather doubted that he did though. I would have heard from him already if he had found out anything. Most likely he was in a meeting that was taking up most of his time. When we arrived at the museum Sherlock and I got out of the car both frowning at each other as we winced. We talked with one of the security guards inside, asking to talk to whoever Andy was. I had to use my acting skills and say we worked for Scotland Yard again, but in the end Andy came to meet us over by the display of Chinese tea pots we were waiting by. We explained to Andy, more like I explained to him, that we came to talk to him about Soo Lin. I noticed that he paled as soon as I mentioned her name.

"When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock asked Andy as he paced by the display. I eyed him, waiting for any signs that he was more I injured than I had initially thought. One sign that he wasn't okay and I was taking him straight back to the flat. He had been nearly strangled to death.

"Three days ago, um, here at the museum," Andy said as Sherlock focused briefly on the glass case with the clay teapots in it that I had noticed. Most of them were dull but one was shiny. From what I knew about the clay pots, you had to keep making tea in them or the clay would crack. "This morning they told me she'd resigned just like that," Andy continued as Sherlock looked at another case containing some jade figurines, and then at a piece of artwork. I looked at him and shook my head fondly. He just couldn't stand still for a few minutes. "Just left her work unfinished," Andy concluded and I shared a look with Sherlock as I tilted my head to the side.

"What was the last thing she did before she left?" I asked Andy curiously. We knew that the last thing Van Coon had done was find the threatening message. If our killer was in her flat, she might have found her own message. Andy looked at me for a long moment before he had the three of us follow him downstairs to the museum's basement archive. He turned on the lights as he led us in.

"She does this demonstration for the tourists – a-a tea ceremony. So she would have packed up her things and just put them in here," Andy told us as he led us to the open stack and started turning a handle at the end to widen the gap. John went to stand behind him and looked into the stack, but Sherlock and I looked beyond him. I frowned as I noticed something far more interesting in the shadows further along the room. We walked closer to it. On a stand was the life-sized statue of a nude woman… and yellow paint had been spray pained across the front of it. An almost horizontal straight line was right across the eyes, the same as the painting, and over the body the upside down eight with the almost horizontal line above it. Andy and John turned to see what we had found, both me gasping. This was what caused Soo Lin to run. She had received a threat as well. Most likely she had fled. The only thing odd about this cipher was that it read one and then fifteen while the other two bits of graffiti had read fifteen then one. It probably was no more than a human error however or because the only way the cipher would fit on the statue was if it was painted this way. It probably meant nothing at all.

"Well, now we know what Soo Lin saw. She was threatened as well," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before taking his phone out and snapping a picture of the statue. "She must have seen it when she put her stuff away and ran for it like Van Coon and Lukis did," I continued as Andy and John walked closer to us.

"I'm sorry, who?" Andy asked me sounding slightly jealous that I was mentioning two other men. Ah, that explained it, he liked Soo Lin. I could understand being worried about someone if they didn't come into work, but once it seemed like they had resigned it seemed odd to keep worrying about them. No it all fit. She was a little more than just a friend to him.

"The banker and the journalist who were found murdered in their flats. They received the same message," I explained to Andy gesturing to the statue as Sherlock inspected it for any clues or any evidence left behind by our friend. Andy paled immediately and John gave me a look that told me that was a bit not good to tell him. "She's alright, or I think she is. We've already been to her flat and she hasn't been there so she's probably doing the smart thing and hiding," I told Andy who nodded in relief. I gave John a look that asked 'better?' and he nodded.

Andy showed us up to Soo Lin's work station and Sherlock and I looked through her desk, finding nothing that might tell us where she had gone. She seemed like a smart girl. I didn't know how she was involved in all of this, but she had lived right next to the Lucky Cat, the drop off point for a group of smugglers. Maybe that was just coincidence or maybe she was also a smuggler like Van Coon and Lukis had been. She had been smarter than Van Coon and Lukis thus far. She had known not to return to her flat after she received the threat so maybe she knew our killer better than Van Coon and Lukis did and knew that a locked door and a flat on the second floor wasn't going to keep her safe. We wrapped up our investigation at the museum and when we left night had already started to fall.

"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao," Sherlock told us as we walked out of the museum. I nodded at him in agreement. It was highly likely that she knew something that could lead us to our little friend who tried to kill Sherlock. Van Coon and Lukis were both dead, but as long as she was alive, she could be our key to solving this case.

"If she's still alive," John remarked just as someone shouted Sherlock's name behind us. The three of us turned around just as Raz ran over to join us. "Oh, look who it is," John said tetchily. Apparently he still was in a bit of a mood over what happened.

"Found something you'll like," Raz told Sherlock, winking at me before he trotted off. Sherlock and I immediately followed after him. I turned to find that John had followed us albeit a bit more slowly. My hand found its way into Sherlock's as we hurried on after Raz before slowing to a walk as we reached the Hungerford Bridge, heading towards the south side of the river.

"Tuesday morning, all you've gotta do is turn up and say the bag was yours," John started and I groaned. I told him I had taken care of it for him. Did he really have to do this now?

"Forget about your court date," Sherlock snapped at him and I looked back at John. I noticed a woman wearing dark sunglasses standing, seemingly watching us. She looked Chinese, but as soon as I looked back at her she was gone.

"I told you I got it taken care of. Mycroft already waved the charges and the court date," I told John and he looked at me in surprise for a long moment before nodding, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh…thank you," He told me and I grinned back at him before turning and continuing my walk with Sherlock. We continued on in companionable silence and Raz led us to the South Bank Skate Park. He led us across the under-croft where a boy had just done some kind of clever jump on his pushbike.

"Dude that was rad!" A girl told him as I nodded in the group's direction as I followed close to Sherlock.

"If you wanna hide a tree in the middle of a forest, this is the best place to do it, wouldn't you say? People would just walk straight past, not knowing, unable to decipher the message," Sherlock remarked as Raz pointed to a particular area on the heavily-graffitied walls.

"There. I spotted it earlier," Raz told us. Amongst all the other paint there were slashes of yellow paint forming Chinese symbols. Some of them had already been painted over by other artists' tags and pictures. The symbols were still unmistakeable though.

"They have been in here," Sherlock told me as I looked them over. I couldn't decipher the numbers because most of them were gone, but it was the Suzhou numbers. "And that's the exact same paint?" Sherlock asked Raz who nodded at him.

"Yeah," Raz told him and I shared a look with Sherlock.

"John, if we're going to decipher this code, we're gonna need to look for more evidence," Sherlock told us. Raz gave his farewell to is, winking at me again before we were left alone. I looked back at my Baker Street boys as we formed our plan of action.

"Most likely there might be other symbols around the area. It was around places like this that I found them for Mycroft. I suggest we split up and see if we can find anything," I told the boys who agreed with me. When we went to split up to begin searching I convinced Sherlock to let me go with John this time. It wasn't that hard to tell him that we had a better chance of finding something since there would be one consulting detective in each group.

John kept me close to him as we spilt off from Sherlock and walked through an underpass. He reached for my hand and I put it in his as we looked closely at the graffiti and posters on the walls as we walked. "So, what's up with you and Sherlock?" John asked me suddenly and I jumped in surprise before looking at him furrowing my brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I asked him and he raised an eyebrow at me. I generally was confused by what he was asking me.

"You and Sherlock. First you we acting strange yesterday after I came back to the flat and today I don't know… you're just acting weird like you're up to something," John told me and I rolled my eyes at though, though I sighed inwardly in relief. He hadn't figured it out yet.

"We're not up to anything. We haven't been acting any differently," I told John and he shook his head at me, smiling a bit.

"Forget about it," John told me and I nodded, my eyes furrowed in confusion for a second before I shook my head and deleted that conversation. We found our way out to the railway lines. John took out a torch from his pocket which I had been quite surprised to find that he had. He admitted to me that since our first case together he had taken to carrying a torch in his jacket just in case he ever needed it on a case. His torch picked out splashes of yellow paint on the sleepers and on the rails and he raised his light to a brick wall, which looked like it belonged to a maintenance shed. The wall was fifteen feet wide and we steeped back our mouths open in surprise as we realized that the entire wall was covered with large yellow Chinese symbols.

John and I immediately took out our mobiles, John snapping pictures of the wall as I rang Sherlock. His mobile just kept ringing and I looked up at John. "He's not answering," I told him and John sighed in exasperation.

"Of course he isn't. Why would he answer his bloody phone?" John asked me as he tried to ring Sherlock while I sent him several texts. "He's still not answering," John told me as he lowered his phone from his ear. "He couldn't have gotten too far from around here," John told me, taking my hand again. We set off trying to find Sherlock, returning to the skate park and heading down the way Sherlock had gone. I surprised John by tracking down Sherlock who was looking at the side of a parked rail freight container when we found him. It was easy enough to track him if you followed his footprints and the occasional piece of hair or lint. We found a discarded spray paint can on our way which I had deduced Sherlock had found before he headed off in a different direction. "Answer your phone! We've been calling you! We've found it," John called to Sherlock as we trotted up to him, hand in hand. Sherlock's eyes fell on our intertwined hands and I saw his eyebrow shoot up slightly. He turned around and joined us, taking my other hand. I ran with my Baker Street boys as we headed off into the night side by side, Sherlock and my coat billowing behind us. In my head I could just hear the Batman theme tune. Maybe Mycroft could get us the Deductionmobile! Oh my God that would be so brilliant. We went back the way we came, leading Sherlock back to the wall. We both gasped in surprise, John's mouth dropping open in surprise again, but this time it was for a completely different reason. The entire wall was blank. We dropped hands as John and I walked to examine the wall.

"It's been painted over!" John cried in despair as I reached out and touched the wall, my fingertips coming back covered in paint. Sherlock shined his flash light around the area as John continued to stare at the wall in disbelief. I looked with him, not entirely worried about the wall now. "I don't understand. It-it was here ...," John said as he stumbled backwards. "...ten minutes ago. We saw it. A whole load of graffiti!"

"Somebody doesn't want me to see it. I don't know why, Lexi's already seen it," Sherlock said as he suddenly turned and grabbed the sides of John's head in both his hands.

"Hey, Sherlock, what are you doing...?" John asked Sherlock quickly as I looked at the two men, walking over to them, slightly amused by the look on John's face.

"Shh, John, concentrate. I need you to concentrate. Close your eyes," Sherlock directed John and I knew what he was doing. Why he couldn't just ask me I didn't know, but this was entertaining. I pulled out my phone and started recording.

"No, what? Why? Why?" John asked Sherlock as he lowered his hands to hold John by the upper arms. I bit my lip to stop from laughing at John's expression. "What are you doing?!" John demanded and I shook my head. Well he isn't trying to kiss you if that's what you are thinking John, I thought as Sherlock started to slowly spin them around on the spot, staring intently into John's eyes.

"I need you to maximise your visual memory. Try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?" Sherlock asked John as I followed them around in the circle so I could catch every glorious moment on film.

"Yeah," John answered him as I also raised my hand to indicate that I could picture it too. "Can you remember it?" Sherlock asked John and I nodded.

"Yes, definitely," John told him as I muttered, "Two for two."

"Can you remember the pattern?" Sherlock continued, still spinning them. Good thing neither of them were drunk. Shouldn't they be getting dizzy about now? I was just looking at them.

"Yes!" John told him exasperatedly as I said, "And three, we have three over here. How about four? Does someone have four? Going once, going twice." Of course I was ignored by both men.

"How much can you remember it?" Sherlock asked John and I sighed. Could always ask me, I did have a photographic memory. No need for whatever this was.

"Well, don't worry...," John told him as Sherlock continued to spin them. I was totally sending this to Mycroft and possibly Greg.

"Because the average human memory on visual matters is only sixty-two percent accurate," Sherlock continued and I nodded my head, definitely sending this to Greg. He need to see this shit.

"Yeah, well, don't worry – I remember all of it," John told Sherlock as I shook my head at the boy's antics.

"And four we have four, sold to John Watson," I said, earning me a slight look from Sherlock. Oh good, they were still aware that I was here.

"Really?" Sherlock asked him disbelievingly. Ye of little faith Holmes, ye of little faith. My Watson was brilliant.

"Yeah, well at least I would...," John told Sherlock as he finally managed to pull himself free."...if I can get to my pockets!" He continued as he rummaged around in his jacket pocket. "I took a photograph," John told Sherlock, taking out his phone and pulling up the photo he had taken of the wall which showed all the symbols clearly. He gave his phone to Sherlock who took it and looked embarrassed as John sighed and turned away. "And why couldn't you ask Lexi. She's the one with the photographic memory," John said suddenly, gesturing back to me as I stored my phone back in my pocket after sending a copy of the video off to Lestrade and Mycroft. Sherlock looked over at me and I waved at him.

"Oh," Sherlock said and I rolled my eyes fondly before I walked over to my boys and linked arms with both of them.

"Let's go home. I'm cold," I told them as I stuck my frozen fingers against the warm inner skin of John and Sherlock's wrists. Sherlock jumped and tore my fingers away as I pouted at the loss of warmth.

"Woman, get your cold fingers off of me!" Sherlock told me as John laughed beside me, his hands now covering mine in an attempt to warm them.

"Meanie, look, John's nice about it," I pointed out and John looked very smug as he looked back at Sherlock. "I told you I have poor circulation. My extremities freeze," I said as we started walking off back to the main road. "If I lose a finger, it'll be on you," I told him pointedly, nodding at him as he rolled his eyes.

"In the current temperature it is impossible to lose a finger," Sherlock told me before shoving his leather gloves at me. "Put these on and stop complaining," Sherlock told me as I slid my hands into his oversized gloves. They were warm which was all I cared about.

"I'm a woman. I will complain as much as I like thank you," I told Sherlock as I stalked ahead of him and John. We made it out to the main road and as luck would have it a cab was approaching. I took off one of the gloves and gave a shrill whistle. The cabbie immediately pulled over to the side of the road and I slid into the back seat, John and Sherlock joining me a moment later. Sherlock and I argued on the way back to the flat, childish things really. It began by Sherlock apparently not liking me sticking my cold nose into the exposed skin of his neck. There had been more complaints from him, amused and despairing looks from John and pitying looks from the cabbie directed at John while he also shot amused looks our way. "If I get a cold it's your fault. You dragged me out in the cold," I accused Sherlock, poking him in the chest.

"You're not going to get a cold," Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes as he closed them and sat back with his head against the headrest. I caught John grinning, but paid him no mind.

"Well you best hope I don't because you will be the one taking care of me," I told Sherlock before I sneezed. "Oh look, it's already started. I have the plague," I told Sherlock theatrically. "You gave me the plague," I complained with a huff as I caught the cabbie biting his lip.

"You don't have the plague," Sherlock huffed in irritation.

"I do, that's it. Mycroft is going to kill you. You take me out and I get the plague," I continued on and Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he glared at me in irritation.

"You do not have the plague and you are not suddenly going to die. Stop these dramatics," He told me and I stuck my tongue out at him childishly before rolling my eyes.

"Says the drama queen himself. You and your brother are more dramatic than I am," I pointed out just as we pulled up at the curbing. I didn't know it was possible for a man of Sherlock's height to climb out of the middle of a cab this small, but somehow he managed to as soon as the cab pulled to a stop. He bolted out of the cab and to the door of 221B before disappearing inside. I opened the door on my side and poked my head out of the cab. "Oi! I'm not done with you yet. Look, my nose is turning red," I shouted after the consulting detective before leaving the warmth of the cab and chasing after him.

**Third Person POV**

John finally lost it as soon as the two detectives were gone back inside of the flat and the cabbie did as well, both of them breaking out into laughter. They quieted down after a few minutes and the cabbie wiped tears away from his eyes. "I'll hand it to you mate, you have a lot of patience," The cabbie told John as he shook his head, looking back at the door to 221B.

"You have no idea," John told him as he reached in his pocket for some bills. "That's Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna for you," John continued as he went to hand over their cab fare.

"No, no charge," The cabbie said waving him off and John looked back at him in confusion. "That's the best laugh I've had in a while mate. They really are the cutest couple I've ever seen. Made for each other those two are," The cabbie said laughing again. John laughed with him.

"Yeah, except neither of them know that," John said and the cabbie shook his head.

"Guy like him should get his eyes checked. That there is one amazing woman. The way they carry on I would have thought they were an old married couple," The cabbie remarked and John nodded in agreement.

"She is, she's great and he's an arrogant prat most of the time except towards her," John remarked as he made to get out of the cab.

"Give it a bit, they'll figure it out," The cabbie told John and John laughed.

"That'll be the day. He's married to his work and I don't even know about her," John told him and the cabbie shrugged.

"Never know, sometimes love works like that," The cabbie told him and John nodded at the very wise words. "Sometimes we can't choose who we love. We just do. And that's all we need. It doesn't have to make sense." **(A/N Something you need to remember with Mary later on John.)**

While John pondered the words of the cabbie he walked up to the flat to find Sherlock printing out the new pictures and Lexi in one of his jumpers on the couch wearing a pair of Sherlock's sweatpants, thick woollen socks and holding a steaming mug of tea to her chest while covered in a gigantic quilt. John shook his head at the sight as Sherlock moved towards Lexi and thrust a marker at her along with the pictures. She eyed him for a long moment before setting down her tea on the coffee table and taking the pictures from him. She started to write out the numerical value of each symbol while John took a look over Lexi. She did actually look a little worse for wear if John was being honest. Her eyes were slightly blood shot and her nose was still red. He didn't want to say she was right, but it looked like she might actually have come down with a little something. He would watch to see what would happen. Lexi handed the pictures back to Sherlock and he moved across the fireplace and he stuck them up around the mirror. Sherlock stood at the fire place looking at the pictures closely, having spotted a pattern.

"Always in pairs, John," Sherlock said his voice rousing John who had taken a seat at the dining table, his back to the fireplace and his head propped up in his hands. He blinked and turned his head, squinting at Sherlock.

"I noticed that too," Lexi piped up from the couch and John looked over at her as she sipped her tea.

"Hmm?" John asked them sleepily. Just a few hours of sleep. That would be nice. It was only almost seven, but they had been running nonstop all day. He would say they stopped to eat but that would be a lie.

"Numbers come with partners," Sherlock told him as John gazed around the flat blankly.

"God, I need to sleep," John muttered as Lexi raised her mug up and saluted him with it.

"I second that," She told John, her eyes closing as she sipped her tea tiredly.

"Why did he paint it so near the tracks?" Sherlock continued, neither the army doctor nor the Irish detective really listening to him at this point.

"No idea," John told him tiredly as Lexi's head started to bob.

"Thousands of people pass by there every day," Sherlock said as Lexi made a grunting noise of agreement. It made no since but Lexi and John were past the point of caring. They found the message. That was good enough for the both of them.

"Just twenty minutes," John said propping his head in his hand again.

"What do you think, twenty minutes? Yeah, twenty minutes. We've got twenty minutes," Lexi told John just as Sherlock gasped. Lexi groaned in exasperation.

"Of course," Sherlock said smiling triumphantly as he took a look at a photo of the full wall. "Of course! He wants information. He's trying to communicate with his people in the underworld. Whatever was stolen, he wants it back," Sherlock said as he ran his finger over the symbols. "Somewhere here in the code," Sherlock said as he pulled three photographs off the wall and turned towards the door. "We can't crack this without Soo Lin Yao,' He said heading off down the stairs.

"Oh, good!" John said as he got up to follow. Lexi threw her quilt off of her and stood up, putting her tea mug down on the coffee table. She moved to the door and pulled her boots back on before pulling her coat on over John's blue striped jumper. She looked like a mess and John definitely knew she wasn't feeling well. She tied her scarf around her neck tightly before tramping down the stairs tiredly with him after Sherlock. This was going to be a long night.

The three made their way back to the National Antiquities Museum before it closed for the day and were able to get back in touch with Andy. They met in the same display room they had met him in earlier. Lexi felt like crap. Her arm hurt, her abdomen was sore, and her throat was scratchy. She wasn't kidding, Sherlock had given her the plague. On top of that all she wanted to do was sleep, but it seemed like Sherlock wasn't going to let John or her sleep until this case was solved or eat for that matter. It was all well and good that he could go without eating on a case but Lexi liked my food. She was only surviving off of tea right now which was not a substitute for regular food whether Sherlock tried to claim it was or not.

"Two men who travelled back from China were murdered, and their killer left them messages in the Hangzhou numerals," Sherlock began before Lexi tiredly cut in.

"Suzhou," Lexi corrected him and he snapped his head around to her and huffed in irritation.

"Suzhou numerals then! What difference does it make?" Sherlock snapped at Lexi and she glared back at him murderously. Oh if he wanted to go there they could go there. He would find out that she was not a nice person when she didn't feel well.

"Soo Lin Yao's in danger. Now, that cipher – it was just the same pattern as the others. He means to kill her as well," John interrupted both of the detectives, seeing that a fight was about to go down if he didn't step in and change the subject.

"Look, I've tried everywhere, um, friends, colleagues. I-I don't know where she's gone. I mean, she could be a thousand miles away," Andy said as Sherlock turned his head away in exasperation. His gaze focused on the nearby glass case displaying the teapots again.

"What are you looking at?" John asked him as Lexi tiredly walked over to the case and looked at the tea pots as well.

"Tell me more about those teapots," Sherlock demanded as he pointed at the display case and joined Lexi in front of it.

"Th-the pots were her obsession. Um, they need urgent work. If-if they dry out, then the clay can start to crumble," Andy started and Lexi nodded before looking back at him.

"Yes, they're very delicate. You have to keep making tea in them. The pot is seasoned by repeatedly pouring tea over the surface. The deposit left on the clay creates the beautiful patina on them over time," Lexi explained as Sherlock bent down to look more closely at the shelf.

"Earlier, only one of those pots was shining. Now there are two," Sherlock pointed out before straightening. The two detectives shared a look and John groaned. It never could be simple with them could it?

**(A/N Sorry for this interruption in the flow but I felt an explanation was in order. Originally Sherlock says yesterday in the episode but for the purposes of this story it is earlier. Why? Because after watching this episode for the fifteenth time (now 23) your author noticed that the same day they met with Andy for the first time was also the day they found the symbols with Raz. It was also on that day they returned to Baker Street and Sherlock took John back to the museum as we saw in the episode. Therefore, it couldn't have been yesterday, it all had to happen in the same day. My exact problem with Moffat right here. Now back to the case.)**

Neither the army doctor nor the Irish detective was exactly happy. They had waited outside for a while until the museum had closed. Sherlock had gotten the idea that Soo Lin might be hiding out in the museum due to the nature of her work and her obsession with it. Lexi agreed it was a good idea, but they waited out in the cold for over an hour. As soon as the museum closed, Sherlock had Lexi use her skills to get them inside. John was impressed when she overrode the security systems in the museum and unlocked the doors with a hair pin. They trio made their way into the dark, deserted museum, carefully making their way through it. Sherlock sent John off to look around the display room while he and Lexi made off for the restoration room. They walked inside to find a small Chinese girl pouring tea into the teapot on the desk in front of her. She picked up the lid and carefully stroked it around the rim as Lexi and Sherlock made their way closer to her. Soo Lin picked up the tea pot and poured some of the liquid into a pair of cups. She poured more tea into the tray on which the cups were standing, swilling the teapot around to cover the outside with the trips.

"Fancy a biscuit with that?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi and him stopped behind Soo Lin. Before he finished his sentence she gasped in fright and turned towards them, the teapot dropping from her terrified hands. Lexi reacted instantly and bent, catching the teapot before it hit the floor. She straightened up carefully holding it in her hands.

"Fancy a biscuit with that? Seriously!? That's all you could come up with?" Lexi asked Sherlock incredulously. She would have smacked him over the head if it wasn't for the fact that she was still holding the teapot. "This pot is centuries old! I can't believe you almost made her break it. I swear, I can't take you anywhere," Lexi chastised him as she handed the teapot back to her. As she took it Sherlock reach out and flicked a switch on the desk, turning on the lights underneath the surface. "I'm sorry about him, hello," Lexi told the girl.

"Hello," Soo Lin said timidly. She wasn't sure who they were, but they were not who she expected to find when she heard someone behind her. The girl was nice enough. "Why are you here?" Soo Lin asked them quickly. "Why are you looking for me?"

"We want to help you sweetie," Lexi said as John entered the room behind us. Soo Lin jumped again before relaxing slightly. "It's okay, that's just John. He's with us, he's nice," Lexi told Soon Lin comfortingly. The four of them sat on stools around the restoration table, John and Sherlock on one side and Lexi and Soo Lin on the other.

"You saw the cipher. Then you know he is coming for me," Soo Lin told them and Lexi nodded slowly at her.

"You've been clever to avoid him so far," Sherlock remarked. She had been cleverer than Van Coon and Lukis had been, returning to their flats.

"I had to finish ... to finish this work. It's only a matter of time. I know he will find me," Soon Lin told them as Lexi took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. That was something that made Lexi entirely herself. John was adamant that she was the most compassionate woman he had ever met. That was Lexi, always. She seemed so broken herself half the time and John knew she didn't tell them everything about her past, but Lexi was also there went you needed someone to talk to and she always knew exactly what to say.

"Who is he? Have you met him before?" Sherlock asked her quickly and she nodded slowly, hesitantly. Lexi nodded her on encouragingly.

"When I was a girl, living back in China. I recognise his ... 'signature'," Soo Lin told them.

"The cipher," Sherlock commented. Ah so that was what that was. It was an artist tag of sorts.

"Only he would do this. Zhi Zhu," Soo Lin told them and Lexi straightened up in her chair and frowned.

"Zhi Zhu?" John asked Soo Lin in confusion. Sherlock opened his mouth to answer him, but it was Lexi instead who did.

"The Spider," Lexi translated as Soo Lin put her right foot up on her opposite knee and unlaced her shoe, taking it off. She revealed the underside of her heal where there was a black tattoo of a lotus flower inside a circle.

"You know this mark?" Soo Lin asked them, looking up at Lexi who had already seemd to know more about the pots than the other detective had. She liked her, she felt like she could trust her more.

"Yes. It's the mark of a Tong," Sherlock answered her as Lexi nodded.

"Hmm?" John asked not familiar with the term.

"A Tong is like a brotherhood or a secret society. They're often tied to criminal activity," Lexi explained to John and Soo Lin nodded in agreement.

"So basically an ancient crime syndicate based in China," Sherlock added, earning a glare from Lexi. John nodded in understanding before he turned back to Soo Lin.

"Every foot soldier bears the mark; everyone who hauls for them," Soo Lin told them, gesturing to the tattoo on her foot.

"'Hauls'?" John asked her, his brows furrowing. Soo Lin looked up at him and his eyes widened. "Y-you mean you were a smuggler?" John asked her as she lowered her gaze again and put her shoe back on.

"I was fifteen. My parents were dead. I had no livelihood; no way of surviving day to day except to work for the bosses," Soo Lin explained as Lexi rubbed her arm and Looked at her, giving her what comfort she could.

"Who are they?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi looked across at them. John could see the sad expression on her face. He didn't like this any more than she did. Soo Lin was young, too young to have gone through all of that.

"They are called the Black Lotus. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds' worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong. But I managed to leave that life behind me. I came to England," Soo Lin said smiling a little at Lexi. "They gave me a job here. Everything was good; a new life," She said sadly.

"Then he came looking for you," Sherlock remarked and Soo Lin nodded.

"Yes," She told him, swallowing before continuing tearfully. "I had hoped after five years maybe they would have forgotten me, but they never really let you leave. A small community like ours – they are never very far away," She said as she wiped her tears away from her face. "He came to my flat. He asked me to help him to track down something that was stolen."

"And you've no idea what it was?" John asked her and she shook her head quickly.

"I refused to help," Soo Lin said sort of proudly that she had stood up for herself.

"So you knew him well when you were living back in China?" John asked her as he leaned forward and she nodded.

"Oh yes," Soo Lin told them as she looked up at Lexi. "He's my brother. Two orphans. We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus, or starve on the streets like beggars. My brother has become their puppet, in the power of the one they call Shan – the Black Lotus general. I turned my brother away. He said I had betrayed him. Next day I came to work and the cipher was waiting," Soon Lin told us, I squeezed her hand and she looked over at me, tears in her eyes. Sherlock put the photos he had taken with him on the table and I held up a hand for him to wait as he went to speak to her.

"Lín zhū, nǐ méiyǒu zuò cuò rènhé shìqíng. Nǐ zuòle suǒyǒu nǐ kěyǐ shēngcún xiàqù, shì ma? Ránhòu, nǐ méiyǒu zuò cuò rènhé shìqíng. Wǒmen méiyǒu lǐyóu gǎndào xiūkuì de shìqíng, wǒmen bìxū zuò wǒmen de guòqù. Wǒ shì yī míng xīdú zhě, xiànzài wǒ shì yīgè zīxún zhēntàn. Wǒmen shēngcún, wǒmen zuò yīgè xīn de shēngmìng wèi wǒmen zìjǐ. Nǐ shì jiānqiáng de, rúcǐ qiángdà de yǒuguò de yǒngqì, méiyǒu gàosu nǐ, xiōngdì. Zhè jiùshì yǒngqì wǒ xīwàng wǒ yǒu. Nǐ néng pòyì zhèxiē shùzì duì wǒmen qīn'ài de? Rúguǒ wǒmen nénggòu jiějué zhège qíngkuàng xià, wǒmen kěyǐ bāngzhù bǎohù nín miǎn shòu cū zhū, ràng nǐ yuǎnlí hēi liánhuā wèi hǎo. Wǒ yǒu yīgè péngyǒu, kěyǐ bāngzhù nǐ, tā bāng wǒ dédào dì dìfāng, xiànzài de wǒ," I told Soo Lin in her native language. Her eyes widened as I started talking as did John's as I spoke rapid fire Chinese. (Soo Lin, you did nothing wrong. You did all you could to survive, yes? Then you did nothing wrong. There is no reason to feel ashamed of things we had to do in our past. I was a drug addict and now I am a consulting detective. We survive, we make a new life for ourselves. You are strong, so strong for having had the courage to tell your brother no. That is courage I wish I had. Can you decipher these numbers for us sweetie? If we can solve this case we can help protect you from Zhi Zhu and get you away from the Black Lotus for good. I have a friend that could help you, he helped me get to where I am now.) Soo Lin nodded at me, a small, watery smile gracing her face before she leaned forward and pointed to the mark beside Sir William's portrait.

"These are numbers," Soo Lin said and Lexi nodded in encouragement.

"Suzhou number yes," Lexi said as Soo Lin pointed to another photograph.

"Here, the line across the man's eyes – it's the Chinese number one," Soo Lin said as Sherlock pointed to the first photo, interrupting her.

"And this one is fifteen. But what's the code?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi looked up at him and raised one of eyebrows disapprovingly. Well, this wasn't the time to baby her along.

"All the smugglers know it. It's based upon a book...," Soo Lin said just as almost all of the lights went out. Soo Lin looked up in dread as Lexi and Sherlock straightened up and looked around sharply. "He's here. Zhi Zhu. He has found me," Soo Lin said softly, her face full of terror.

Sherlock took off, racing across the room as John called behind him softly, but urgently. "Sh-Sherlock. Sherlock, wait!"

Sherlock disregarded the army doctor and charged out of the room. Unbeknownst to Sherlock, back inside the room John pulled Soo Lin and Lexi down behind a desk, keeping the both of them same.

Sherlock raced across a large open foyer with a staircase at each end and a balcony surrounding the floor above. He stopped in the middle of the foyer and looked around. From his right, a figure ran across the balcony and fired a pistol at him. Sherlock turned and ran in the opposite direction, flinging himself to the floor and sliding along it to take shelter behind a statue on a low plinth. The figure fired a couple more times as Sherlock scrambled behind the plinth. While he was fighting to stay alive out in the foyer of the museum, John had looked up at the sound of gun fire.

He turned to Lexi and Soo Lin. "I have to go and help. Bolt the door after me. Lexi, stay with her," John said before he hurried off, Soo Lin's face filling with dread. Lexi took Soo Lin in her arms, hugging her before quietly murmuring that everything was going to be okay. She kissed the frightened girl's forehead and stroked her hair, calming her down.

John made his way cautiously out into the foyer, then ducked and ran for cover as more gunshots rang out. The figure ran back across the balcony and disappeared from view. Sherlock came out from behind the plinth and hared across the foyer and up the stairs. John peered out from behind a column at the other end of the foyer as Sherlock reached the top of the stairs and tore around the corner. He pelted into another display room and the gunman ran out of cover behind him and fired towards him again. Sherlock ducked behind a display cabinet displaying some ancient skulls as the figure fired again.

"Careful!" Sherlock called out as the gunman fired again. "Some of those skulls are over two hundred thousand years old! Have a bit of respect!" Sherlock called out again, he paused for a couple of seconds, breathing heavily. When there were no more gun shots Sherlock sighed. "Thank you!" He called and there was no more sounds coming from the gun man. After a moment Sherlock frowned, then carefully peered through the glass of the case.

Back in the restoration room Soo Lin looked up anxiously. Lexi looked back at the door that was bolted and stood up slowly, Soo Lin clinging to her. "Don't," Soo Lin told her and Lexi shook her head.

"It's okay," Lexi told her, standing and walking hesitantly towards the door as Soo Lin closed her eyes in despair. Lexi muttered comforting words in Chinese as she continued to move towards the door, hoping that Sherlock or John would return now that the fire fight seemed to be over. Why it was over was another concern for her. Sherlock or John could be dead or hurt and she couldn't go to them and keep Soo Lin safe.

Soo Lin took a shaky breath and slowly began to crawl out of her hiding place. On the desk, paperwork was fluttering in a slight breeze coming from the air conditioning vents around the room. Soo Lin crawled to the edge of the table and peered over the top before slowly standing. She could see the girl, Lexi, in front of her, standing in the shadows by the door, barely noticeable unless you knew she was in the room. Soo Lin froze suddenly and tuned around slowly to find a Chinese man a little older that her behind her. She gazed at him in affection.

"亮 [Liang.]" Soo Lin said hesitating for a moment. "大哥 [Big brother.]" She said as she reached out and cupped his face with her hand. "请你 [Please ...]" She pleaded just as she heard another female voice yelling a very loud "Oi" before a gunshot ran out and then another.

**John's POV**

John continued to search for Sherlock when suddenly one gunshot rang out in the distance before another followed closely after it. John turned towards the sound, his face filling with appalled horror as he realized where the shot came from.

"Oh my God," John said before he raced back to the stairs and ran down them, across the foyer, and back to the restoration room, dread filling his heart. If she…if Lexi was…if they both were. He entered the room, slowing down to look around cautiously for any sign of the gunman. Carefully he made his way across the room before stopping as shock filled him. Soo Lin was lying on the floor and Lexi was crouched beside her, her scarf off and pressed to Soo Lin's abdomen.

"Doctor Watson, I could really use your help right now," Lexi said, turning to face John, revealing a large cut across her forehead that was bleeding rather heavily.

**Lexi's POV**

I turned back around when I heard Soo Lin talking, thinking she was talking to me before I realized that she had said big brother. I saw the gun raise as Soo Lin cupped a man's face and I shouted a loud "Oi!" to get his attention. The man, Zhi Zhu, turned his gun on me. Oh lovely, I thought before I quickly fell and ducked as the gun shot rang out, the bullet firing over my head. I popped up quickly and moved towards Zhi Zhu, catching his hand as he brought it up to strike me. He suddenly brought his gun up, hitting me over the head with the butt of the gun. I fell in a daze, feeling the warm trickle of blood over my forehead before I heard another gunshot ring out. I froze in horror before opening my eyes and springing up as the sound of foot steeps reached my ears and I found Zhi Zhu fleeing. I looked down to find Soo Lin bleeding profusely from her abdomen. I quickly crouched over her and swore in Gaelic as I quickly pulled my scarf off and pushed it into her wound, keeping pressure on it.

I was semi aware of the thunderous footsteps behind me before the door opened and John walked it. I heard him walk closer before freezing as he took in the sight in front of him. "Doctor Watson, I could really use your help right now," I said, turning to face John, revealing a large cut across my forehead that was bleeding rather heavily. John immediately fell into action, falling to his knees next to me. "Start CPR while I try and stop the bleeding," I ordered him and John did as I asked him too. John would never forget the commanding tone Lexi had used in that instance which suddenly reminded him of his army days. I became aware that Sherlock had run in and I looked over my shoulder at him as I pressed both of my hands firmly on Soo Lin's abdomen on top of my blood soaked scarf. "Sherlock call for an ambulance and tell them to bloody step on it," I told him and he moved and did as I asked.

The next eight minutes were the longest of my life. Thankfully the medics weren't too questioning about what we were doing in the museum after hours when it was supposed to be locked down. They loaded Soo Lin into the ambulance and asked us a few questions. I told them what I knew and told them about Soo Lin's condition without an examination. They set her up with oxygen and as soon as they hooked her up to the monitors we found that she was still alive, though her pulse was week. The medics told John and me that our immediate attention had been what had saved her so far. An EMT washed my forehead with antiseptic and put a few butterfly sutures over it, telling me to get some rest and take it easy for a bit as they got Soo Lin settled into one of the ambulances. I didn't have a concussion, but I might have a bit of a headache later. They rushed Soo Lin off to the hospital and I washed my hands off with the alcohol and wipes the medics had left behind with me. I had completely lost my scarf, but that was okay. It wouldn't be the first I lost on a case. I sneezed again now that we were out in the cold and Sherlock took his scarf off and wrapped it around my neck tightly. I smiled up at him tiredly before we hailed a cab to the Yard, Sherlock calling ahead and telling him to have officers meet Soo Lin at the hospital.

As soon as the cab arrived at the Yard, I stormed out of it and into Scotland Yard. I was a woman on a mission. We got up to the division and I immediately found Dimmock and stormed over to him, John and Sherlock stopping beside me. The three of us stood a short distance away from Dimmock who had his back to us and was rummaging through paperwork on a desk as if trying to ignore us. "How many murders is it gonna take before you start believing that this maniac's out there?" John asked Dimmock angrily as he turned and walked in between us, heading for another desk, John turned and followed him as did I. "A young girl was gunned down tonight. That's three victims in three days. You're supposed to be finding him," John said as Sherlock walked across in front fo John and I to get nearer to Dimmick. John stepped back and walked a few paces away in exasperation, but I stood exactly where I was glaring at Dimmock.

"Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers – a gang called the Black Lotus operating here in London right under your nose," Sherlock told Dimmock, leaning closer to emphasise his last point. Dimmock finally looked round to him.

"Can you prove that?" Dimmocked asked him looking over at me where I had my hands clenched angrily. Sherlock straightened up thoughtfully and moved back a pace just as I stepped closer to Dimmock and poked him right in the chest.

"That girl that was gunned down was barely even twenty-one," I told Dimmock angrily my Irish brogue coming out as I poked Dimmock threateningly in his chest. "If John and I hadn't been there she would be dead right now and she still might die. John is right, how many murders will it take before you do something? Four? Five? Maybe six? 'Cos that won't happen, not on my watch. You choose this job to be like your father. He was a D.I. too and you wanted to make him proud. Youngest D.I. in all of Scotland Yard. That's very impressive. So make your father proud by stepping up now. Work with us. We can prove that Lukis and Van Coon were working for the Black Lotus," I finished angrily and Dimmock nodded at me slowly.

"Alright…I'm listening," Dimmock told me and I nodded before taking Sherlock and John's hand in mine and pulling them with me to the door of the division. I sniffled a bit and my throat was really starting to hurt but I didn't care. I promised Soo Lin that I would protect her from Zhi Zhu and get her away from the Black Lotus for good. I had failed one of those promises, but if Soo Lin lived, I would make good on the second.


	38. Smugglers and Pathogens

**(A/N) Welcome back! I'm going to try and keep this very brief. So, a new chapter a day early because of my appointment tomorrow. Melody injured herself in the shower due to a fall and her terrible vision so I'm recovering from that as well. For any of you that might be interested, I started selling t shirts with Sherlock and Doctor Who designs. The link to my store is on my author profile if you want to check it out. All money I earn from the shirt sales goes to buying adaptive equipment for the blind so I can continue writing. If you see a design you like but want it on an iPhone case or a bag PM me and I can put it up on the website. Also if you have a request for more Doctor Who designs PM me. It's called Reichenbach Tees so it's mostly Sherlock. There is a Baker Street Boys shirt and soon to be an official design created by me for the story along with several other designs of mine. Now that that shameless plugging is done, onto the chapter. Allonsy!**

**Kim97: Thanks sweetie! Staying positive about it all. **

**Willow Owl: I know wearing glasses is no big deal sweetie. I've been wearing them since I was six.** **I was born with a genetic disease so I lost my peripheral vision by ten. I needed glasses before six but my parents didn't know. For me it's like looking through a telescope. I have tunnel vision and then my vision in my tunnel is considered 20/100 even with my glasses because my vision is so bad glasses can't correct me anymore. 20/200 is considered completely blind so I am partially blind in my tunnel vision and legally blind because I have no peripheral vision. I was only told about that part last year which is why I started writing this fanfiction as a way to cope with the news. I was told I could go completely blind by 20 last year which is hard at 16 to accept. Staying positive though and keep buggering on as Churchill says.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Six- Smugglers and Pathogens<strong>

"**There is no scent so pleasant to my nostrils as that faint, subtle reek which comes from an ancient book."**

― **Arthur Conan Doyle**

**Lexi's POV**

Our proof for Dimmock was currently residing in body bags at St. Bart's Morgue which meant that we found ourselves at St. Bart's next. It had gone past nine already and we still had a long way to go until Sherlock decided to let us call it a night. We managed to convince Dimmock to listen to us and he followed us to the morgue after one silent cab ride latter, John and I too tired to make much conversation. Thankfully Molly was on the night shift which made things a lot easier for us. We went down to the morgue and found she wasn't there so we inquired as to where she was and we were told that she went on break. I was sniffling a lot worse than before and my head was pounding steadily. I would have loved to go back to the flat and curl up on the couch, maybe convince the lanky detective to sit for a few minutes so I could use him as a pillow and sap his body heat, but it seemed like that was far off for us. Sherlock, John, and I stood outside the canteen, Molly visible through the door. I looked back at John who was holding up the wall with his eyes closed.

I knew the feeling. We had been going at the nonstop since this morning. I was slowly becoming the strangest day of my entire life and certainly the most dangerous. In one day we had discovered that Van Coon and Lukis were both smugglers, had almost gotten killed in Soon Lin's flat, found a bunch of graffiti, I had almost gotten killed by a man known as The Spider, Soo Lin was shot and last I had heard she was in critical condition, and now we were at the morgue trying to prove we were right. This case had all started with one email from Sebastian and it had slowly turned into the most interesting case I had worked in a long time, as interesting as our first case together. I was cold, tired, and felt miserable, but I was also excited and even I couldn't find the time to sit still for a minute when the case was getting so interesting. I saw my excitement mirrored in Sherlock's eyes as we made new discoveries and made more deductions. These were the case we ultimately lived for.

Sherlock and I shared a look before looking back at John and we made the decision to leave him out in the hall as we went to talk to Molly. We walked into the hospital canteen together where Molly was looking at the choices in the self-service display. "What are you thinking, pork or the pasta?" Sherlock asked Molly as we walked up to her. She turned in surprise with a little jump and I nudged Sherlock in the ribs for scaring her.

"Oh, it's you!" Molly said, looking between Sherlock and me and smiling nervously as she looked at Sherlock. There was one thing that was very obvious to me if it wasn't to Sherlock. Molly was completely smitten with him. She used to tell me that there was this guy she had a major crush on but didn't seem to even notice she existed. I know knew that that person was Sherlock.

"Hi Molls," I said, greeting the pathologist with a little hug. I enjoyed Molly's company and occasionally we would have a girl's night. More often before I became a recluse writer, but she was always there if you needed some girl time and a good glass of wine.

"This place is never going to trouble Egon Ronay, is it?" Sherlock asked Molly as he smiled at me slightly when I coughed to hide a laugh, then nodded to the display. "I'd stick with the pasta. Don't wanna be doing roast pork – not if you're slicing up cadavers," Sherlock said smiling at me again when I face palmed. Out of all of the things he could have said! Molly grinned nervously at Sherlock, not really noticing that I was there which was to be expected.

"What are you two having?" Molly asked us, smiling at me slightly before she looked back to Sherlock with a devoted look on her face. I felt bad that Sherlock didn't notice that she was so obviously attracted to him, but I was also somewhat relieved that Sherlock didn't notice because it meant he wouldn't end up breaking her heart. Molly was a sweet girl, but I just couldn't see Sherlock with someone like Molly. She was too sweet, that was the problem. I wasn't actually sure who would be right for Sherlock.

"Don't eat when I'm working," Sherlock said and I snorted and rolled my eyes at him before looking at Molly who looked a little confused by my expression.

"He claims that digestion slows him down which is utter rubbish," I told her and she nodded at me with a nervous smile. I knew she didn't understand my exasperation.

No, there were two views of Sherlock Holmes. If you asked Anderson, Donovan, or Lestrade they might tell you that he was hell to live with. That all he did was solve cases and keep eyeballs in the microwave. If you asked Molly Hooper she might idolize him and consider that when he wasn't working cases he was all cuddles and romantic tendencies. Having lived with Sherlock Holmes I can tell you exactly how he is. He is the most stubborn, annoying git I have ever lived with. If waking you up in the morning for no reason at all or bothering you every time you sit down to read isn't enough, he played the violin, loudly and like he was murdering a small animal at all hours of the night and sometimes the flat smelt like something died because of his experiments. It wasn't glamorous, there certainly wasn't any cuddling, but it wasn't all bad. Sherlock had some rather marvellous moments. We played Chess, we talked for hours on end about anything and everything, and the three of us got on exceedingly well.

"So you're working here tonight?" Molly asked Sherlock hopefully. Hello Molly, yes, we are working here tonight. That means Sherlock and I. Sorry, I know you would rather be alone with him. Have him. It means I get a quite night in the flat. I feel a chest cold coming on.

"Need to examine some bodies," Sherlock told Molly as I stepped away from them and started coughing into the sleeve of my jacket. Sherlock glanced at my sidelong and raised an eyebrow and I waved him off as I finally got my coughing under control.

""Some"?" Molly asked Sherlock as I joined them again. It felt like my chest was all, ugh. All this running around in the cold wasn't good for any of us.

"Eddie Van Coon and Brian Lukis," I told Molly, trying to keep this conversation on topic. If I left them to their own devices we would be here forever. Molly looked down at the clipboard she was holding in surprise.

"They're on my list," She told us, looking back up at us and Sherlock turned a puppy-dog look on her. Oh dear lord, please tell me that this wasn't his plan to get Molly to help us?

"Could you wheel them out again for me?" Sherlock asked her as he flicked his gaze over to me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his back as if asking me, "Problem?"

"Well ... the paperwork's already gone through," Molly told us apologetically. Sherlock looked across to me pointedly from the new place I had taken up residence slightly behind Molly.

'_What do I do?'_ Sherlock asked me silently and I snorted which wasn't a good idea because I was all congested it made my nose feel funny. How was I supposed to know what to do?

'_I don't know. You're Sherlock Holmes. Figure it out,'_ I told him, raising my arms in the air in frustration. He gave me a despairing look and I sighed. _'You could always try flirting with her. That method has worked well for me in the past,'_ I offered to him, nodding between him and Molly. Sherlock gave me a look that said 'If I must' before he lifted his eyes to Molly and pointed at her hair.

"You've ... changed your hair," Sherlock said, his voice taking on a softer edge to it like when we were acting for Ms. Wintle. I shook my head and smirked slightly and Sherlock threw an irritated look at me. I was slightly smug that now it was his turn to have to flirt for a case.

"What?" Molly asked Sherlock nervously.

"The-the style, it's usually parted in the middle," Sherlock continued and Molly give him an awkward look.

"Yes, well...," Molly said and I gave Sherlock a look for him to continue.

"Mmm, it's good; it, um, suits you better this way," Sherlock told her and he smiled at her. She returned it before turning away towards the display, looking both flattered and flustered. As soon as she wasn't looking Sherlock's smile dropped and he looked impatiently down at his watch. I slipped around Molly and back to his side, patting him on the arm comfortingly. He huffed before I elbowed him in the side, forcing him to smile again as Molly turned back around. "Well, um, I guess I could wheel them back out for you. Do you need to see them now?" Molly asked us and Sherlock nodded with his smile before dropping it.

"Yes preferably. We are rather busy and Lexi is cultivating germs," Sherlock said, taking a step away from me. I rolled my eyes at him and pointed at him accusingly.

"I told you. I did tell you that you gave me the plague," I told him and Molly looked between the two of us frowning slightly.

"You are like a petri dish," Sherlock told me and I smirked, fluttering my eyes at him and putting a hand over my heart.

"Oh Sherlock, you always know exactly what to say to a girl," I told him and he rolled his eyes as I looked back at Molly who was watching our banter. "I'd appreciate it if you could wheel them out for us now," I told her and she nodded at me quickly.

"Alright, um, just… we can head down to the morgue," Molly told us and Sherlock grunted before Molly nervously darted between us and walked ahead of us, leading us out of the canteen. We picked John up on the way from where he was currently participating in what we would call micro sleep in the scientific community. Molly led us down to the morgue and brought out two steel tables before looking over at the freezers a bit nervously. Sherlock and John had left to go and get Dimmock but I had stayed behind in case Molly needed any help wheeling Van Coon and Lukis out again. She was a small girl and they were rather large men. Odds are she wouldn't be able to get them back out on her own and I was right.

"Need a hand?" I asked her as I walked forward and stopped beside her and she jumped in surprise.

"Oh, um, yes thank you," She told me and I grinned at her. She pulled out gloves for each of us and we pulled them on as she returned my smile. Molly opened the first freezer and I helped her drag the body bag onto the metal table. "I forgot you used to be a pathologist," Molly commented as she wheeled the table into the middle of the room.

"I forget sometimes too," I told her with a laugh as I helped her wheel the second metal table over to the second freezer. I coughed again and Molly looked up at me in sympathy.

"You don't look too good," Molly told me before her eyes widened in surprise. "Not that you look bad," She told me quickly. "You look good, just, um, gosh I'm sorry," She told me before I held up my hands and smiled at her.

"It's okay Molls, I understand. We've kind of been running all over London today without a break and I think I caught a little cold. That and a girl almost died tonight and John and I had to try and save her," I told her and she looked over at me worriedly.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" She asked me and I nodded tiredly.

"Sort of. She's in critical condition. She might live. I'll be fine. This case is a bit challenging though," I told her and she nodded and reached across to rub my arm comfortingly but thought against it quickly as she remembered what we were doing.

"If you need someone to talk to I'm always here. I know, well I know you're busy with Sherlock, but just, if you need to talk to someone, sorry, you probably don't want to. Forget I said anything," Molly told me before she turned and opened the freezer.

"Molly," I told her, stopping her by reaching across to put a hand on her shoulder. "I'd love that. Thank you. It's nice going out on cases with John and Sherlock," I told her, making sure to put John's name first. I knew she liked Sherlock and I knew it was slightly hard for her being friends with me. I lived with Sherlock. I saw him twenty four seven. We solved cases together and when we weren't working on a case we were together. Any girl might get jealous of that, but I wanted her to know that I was no threat to her. I wasn't even sure how I felt about Sherlock. I really hadn't thought about it. Yes, something had changed recently… I would be an idiot to not notice it but part of me didn't want to analyse it for fear of over reading into it. I liked what we had now, it was safe and I didn't want to screw anything up. I was happy the way things were with this life I had. I couldn't go back to the way things were before. "I still need time away from them though. Girl time when I can chat about how they annoy the crap out of me like I used to do when I would tell you about Mycroft or complain about Lestrade."

"I do miss our girl time," Molly told me with a little grin. "Remember when we would watch the chick flicks and you would deduce all the characters. It was nice," Molly told me before we both laughed together.

"Tell you what, after this case I purpose a girl's day. Shopping, lunch, movies, wine, and ice cream," I told Molly and she nodded heartily.

"It's a date," She told me with a grin before we dragged the second body out and rolled him up next to the first. Molly was in much better spirits around me after our little talk. Sherlock and John arrived with Detective Inspector Dimmock and Molly unzipped the first bag we had pulled, pulling the sides apart to reveal the face of Brian Lukis.

"We're just interested in the feet," Sherlock told her as he moved around to the bodies, throwing me a look as he took in my glove covered hands and medical professionalism. I might not have become a Doctor but I studied to be one and I worked as a pathologist for a time. Mycroft always told me that I could have chosen anything else accept for a detective, but I knew that I chose exactly what I wanted.

"The feet?" Molly asked me frowning and I nodded at her. If Lukis and Van Coon were smugglers like we said than they should have the same mark of the Tong on their feet as Soon Lin did.

"Yes. D'you mind if we have a look at them?" Sherlock asked her with a smile at me as he led Dimmock to the other end of the body bag. Molly followed him and unzipped the bag at the end, pulling the sides back to reveal the bottoms of Lukis' feet. On the bottom of his right heel was a tattoo identical to the one which Soo Lin showed us earlier. Sherlock straightened up, a smug expression on his face, and he walked over to the other table. "Now Van Coon," He said and I moved to the second table, Molly and Dimmock following us over. I unzipped the second body bag and pulled it open as Molly had, revealing Van Coon's feet. Van Coon also had an identical tattoo on his right heal. "Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed smugly as Dimmock silently sighed.

"So...," Dimmock asked Sherlock awkwardly as I stripped off my latex gloves and popped them into the rubbish bin. I quickly washed my hands and used a bit of the hand cream Molly had out before I joined them again.

"So either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlour or we're telling the truth," Sherlock told him as I gave Dimmock a 'I did tell you' look.

"What do you want?" Dimmock asked us sighing in resignation.

"We want every book from Lukis' apartment and Van Coon's," Sherlock told him and we shared a look, sharing deductions. It all started with a book with Lukis. The cipher came in pairs as well and now we knew that the cipher was connected to a Tong. We were getting somewhere.

"Their books?" Dimmock asked us in confusion and I nodded at him in confirmation.

"Yes, their books. Preferably try and get them to us tonight. The quicker Sherlock and I are able to crack this case means less murders that you have to clean up," I told Dimmock and he nodded at me slowly.

"I'll see what I can do. Might be an hour or so to get them all brought up to my office," Dimmock told me and Sherlock shook his head as he pulled out his phone and checked it.

"No need. Bring them over to out flat. The address is 221B Baker Street," Sherlock told him before looking back at John and me. "Come," He told us as he swept towards the door while Dimmock spluttered.

"I can't do that. I can't just let you take home evidence," Dimmock told us finally finding his voice. Sherlock turned back to him and regarded him with a little smirk.

"Can't you? You need this case solved, Lexi and I can solve it. You need all the help you can get therefore you are not at liberty to make demands," Sherlock told him before looking across at me and raising one eyebrow before he looked to the empty space beside him. I grinned and walked over to him, joining him by the door as John tiredly regarded us with interest. "As Lexi said, preferably have them brought over tonight," Sherlock told him as he fixed his scarf around my neck. He nodded at Dimmock before sweeping dramatically out of the door.

"My cue to leave before he gets into anything," I told Dimmock before looking over to Molly. "I'll call you when we finish the case and we can plan a day," I told her and the frown on her face turned to a smile. "Come along Watson," I said, walking back and leading John out of the room by his shoulders just as Sherlock called for me. "Yeah, yeah keep your bloody hairnet on!" I shouted back to him as I met him out in the hall way.

We made our way outside of St. Bart's and Sherlock hailed us a cab back to Baker Street. Finally we were going back to the flat! One very quiet cab ride later which found me snuggling against Sherlock's shoulder in an attempt to sneak in a few minutes of rest and we were back at the flat, walking up the stairs. As soon as we got into the living room I pulled off my coat and Sherlock's scarf and hung them up behind the door before I went straight to my room. I pulled off Sherlock's sweatpants and John's jumper and threw them into the hamper as they smelt of chemicals from the morgue and a bit like gunpowder from the museum. Thankfully they were both blood free. I pulled on a pair of long yoga pants that covered my feet almost like footie pyjamas because they were a bit too long for me and a tank top which I layered with a light grey cotton shirt with long sleeves. I padded back into the living room where John was now sitting in his chair while Sherlock remained standing. I passed by the both of them and sat down heavily in Sherlock's chair after moving my case bag to the floor, before curling into a ball and coughing.

"Not just a criminal organisation; it's a cult. Her brother was corrupted by one of its leaders," Sherlock said as soon as I was back in the room. It was obvious that he had been waiting for me to come back.

"Soo Lin said the name," John remarked as I coughed more before sniffling. Suddenly I found a box of tissues in front of my face, offered by a certain consulting detective. I accepted them and sniffled, blowing my nose into the tissue despite Sherlock's disgusted look.

"Yes, Shan; General Shan," Sherlock told him and I nodded.

"I've heard the name before," I told Sherlock and he raised an eyebrow delicately and smirked slightly as John likewise turned to me.

"Ah so that is what you do in your off time. Moonlighting as a Chinese smuggler?" Sherlock asked me with amusement and I snorted. Again a bad move. I had to remember to not do that. Ugh, I hated being sick.

"No, but I've heard the name when doing a little hacking. Apparently Mycroft knows about them. Then again there isn't much he doesn't get his nose into," I told Sherlock and he grimaced.

"We're still no closer to finding them," John said, changing the subject off of Mycroft before we got into dangerous waters.

"Wrong. We've got almost all we need to know. She gave us most of the missing pieces," Sherlock told John, looking at him and waiting for him to agree. He looked across at me and huffed impatiently when John said nothing. I coughed again, holding up a finger to John before I explained what Sherlock meant.

"Why did he have to visit his sister John? What was the point of asking her for her expertise?" I asked him before sinking down and resting my tired eyes as I listen to them.

"She worked at the museum," John breathed, suddenly realizing where we were going with this.

"Exactly," Sherlock said as I lifted my head and smiled at John.

"And the medal goes to John Watson," I said and he threw me a glare. I stuck my tongue out at him before giggling slightly.

"An expert in antiquities. Mmm, of course. I see," John said, finally catching up with us. Yes, Soo Lin was an expert in antiquities. It was probably mere coincidence that her flat was right next door to the drop off point for the Black Lotus who she was trying to get away from. No, he brother sought her out because of the Ancient Chinese relics which could be purchased on the black market.

"Valuable antiquities, John. Ancient Chinese relics purchased on the black market. China's home to a thousand treasures hidden after Mao's revolution," Sherlock explained to John and he nodded as the little light bulb flicked on in his head.

"And the Black Lotus is selling them," John said and Sherlock titled his head before looking at me and sighing heavily.

"Try not to get all your snot over my chair," Sherlock told me and I glared up at him.

"Serves you right," I told him before pulling myself out of his chair and grabbing my laptop. I set it up on the dining table and opened it, typing in the password before bringing up my internet browser.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked me as he moved to look over my shoulder as I typed in the web address for Crispians' website.

"You said they are selling them on the black market. Best way to do that would be to smuggle them in and sell them at auction," I told Sherlock as I searched for all recent auctions, focusing on the auctions of Chinese and other Asian works of art. John got up from his chair and leaned over my other shoulder to see what I was doing.

"Sounds like you've done this before," John said and I stopped scrolling to look up at him. I shook my head, rolling my eyes at them.

"You break into Buckingham Place once and suddenly everyone thinks that you are some sort of criminal," I said and John's eyes widened.

"You broke into Buckingham Place. The Buckingham Place?" John asked me as Sherlock smirked. I grinned back at him and laughed slightly.

"Ambassador Party where I met Mycroft. I can tell you that security tightened after I got in. No, I know this because of the case of the Pink Panther," I told John and he shook his head at me.

"That thief who was utter shit?" John asked me and I nodded.

"Yeah, I caught him. Anyway, he tried the same idea only he wasn't smart about it," I told John as I turned back to the computer and continued scrolling.

"Check for the dates...," Sherlock said before he pointed to a particular auction lot, two Chinese Ming vases. "Here, John," Sherlock told the army doctor who had looked away.

"Mmm," John hummed as he turned back to the screen.

"They arrived from China four days ago," I told Sherlock as he reached over me and ran his finger down the details and looked at the Sale Information at the bottom which included the statement "Source – Anonymous". Very convenient.

"Anonymous. Vendor doesn't give his name. Two undiscovered treasures from the East," Sherlock commented and I nodded. Two undiscovered treasures that magically appeared just after both Van Coon and Lukis took a trip to China.

"One in Lukis' suitcase and one in Van Coon's," John said as I moved to the Quest search site and typed into the search bar.

"Chinese antiquities sold at auction," I narrated as I typed and the result list came up. "Look, here's another one," I told the boys pointing to the screen and John hummed again as he looked closer.

"Arrived from China a month ago: Chinese ceramic statue, sold four hundred thousand," Sherlock said as John consulted Lukis's diary.

Ah, look, a month before that – a Chinese painting, half a million," John said pointing to another auction on the screen.

"All of them from an anonymous source. They're stealing them back in China and one by one they're feeding them into Britain," Sherlock said and I looked up at him.

"They've been doing this for a while then which means they would have to have a foot hold in London," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. Getting ties in a new city would be hard for a smuggling gang so they would have had to have help.

"Huh," John said as he looked at Lukis' diary again and then at the printout of Van Coon's calendar. "And every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon travelling to China,"

"So what if one of them got greedy when they were in China? What if one of them stole something?" Sherlock asked us and I looked up at him with wide eyes. That would explain it. Lukis and Van Coon both didn't answer the messages. Zhi Zhu came to find what was stolen, but obviously they didn't tell him what he wanted to here.

"That's why Zhi Zhu's come," John said as I nodded.

"It's why he went to Soo Lin as well. She worked as an antiquities expert. Maybe he hoped that someone had brought something in for an appraisal or she had heard something about what was stolen," I told them as Mrs. Hudson knocked on the open door of the living room.

"Ooh-ooh!" She said and the three of us turned to her. "Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?" She asked him and I frowned. Last time I checked we weren't.

"What?" Sherlock asked her in confusion, looking at me to see if I knew what she was talking about. I quickly shook my head to tell him I didn't.

"A young man's outside with crates of books," Mrs. Hudson told us and I smiled.

"Ah lovely. Could you tell them to bring them up?" I asked Mrs. Hudson and she smiled at me before shaking her head.

"Just this once dear. I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper," She told me before she headed back down stairs. I shared a look with John, our long night just got a hell of a lot longer.

The next half an hour was filled with two uniformed police offers going up and down the stairs to our flat, carrying up plastic crates of books. By the time they had dumped the last one in the living room I could have made a fort. It was amazing that for two men that seemed to be busy with their work for so much of the time that they owned so many books. You would think they would be hard pressed to find some time to sit down with a book. I had trouble finding time to fit in some reading, especially when working cases. Life stopped as soon as we got a case. Down time between cases was like a waiting period where time seemed to stand still. Cases never lasted for long though.

"It's a book code," I told the boys as I sat on the couch, covered in a quilt as the police officers stacked the crates up around me. Mrs. Hudson said I was looking a bit under the weather and she made me a cup of ginger tea with a bit of honey. It was a bit different from what I normally drank but it felt good on my throat.

"So, the numbers are references," Sherlock said and I nodded from my seat.

"To books," John clarified and Sherlock threw me a looking that seemed to ask me if he actually was being serious.

"To specific pages and specific words on those pages," I explained to John and he nodded.

"Right, so ... fifteen and one, that means...," John said before he huffed in irritation when Sherlock cut him off.

"Turn to page fifteen and it's the first word you read," Sherlock told him and I put my mug of tea down and scooted over into a more comfortable position, wrapping my quilt around me since I was getting cold and hot flashes.

"Okay. So what's the message?" John asked us and I shrugged as I sniffed.

"Depends on the book. That's the cunning of the book code. Has to be one that they both owned," Sherlock told him snarkily and John looked round despairingly at the many, many crates in the room, each either labelled "Van Coon" or "Lukis."

"Okay, right. Well, this shouldn't take too long, should it?" John said before he went over to the nearest crate and flipped open the lid, sighing tiredly as he saw the amount of books inside. I shared a look with Sherlock before I stood up and we both opened our own creates and started taking books out, looking at the covers of each one. John and I had similar ideas and we each took a handful of books from out creates. He carried them over to the dining table as I stacked mine beside me on the couch and started flipping through the books. I looked up as Dimmock walked in and held up an evidence bag to Sherlock.

"We found these, at the museum," Dimmock said as he showed the bag to John and me. I strained my tired eyes and saw that it contained the photographs of the cipher that we had taken to show Soo Lin earlier that evening. "Is this your writing?" Dimmock asked Sherlock and I spoke up.

"Mine actually. I deciphered the Suzhou numerals for Sherlock earlier," I told Dimmock and he raised an eyebrow at this as John reached forward and took the bag from him.

"Uh, we hoped Soo Lin could decipher it for us. Ta," John thanked him and Dimmock nodded at him and turned back to Sherlock who was still unloading his crate as I turned back to my own book. The words seemed to run into each other on the page. Hmm, twenty minutes would be lovely right now. I didn't want to sleep if Sherlock and John were going to stay up and work on the books though. It wasn't fair to be the only one to go to sleep as I let them work on everything for the case alone. Besides, if I laid down I would probably have a coughing fit. I didn't know if I should blame Sherlock or more likely John who had gone to the surgery for the job interview and probably brought germs home with him. It was more likely that he was to blame for my cold than Sherlock.

"Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean?" Dimmock asked Sherlock as I bent over my book.

"Some silence right now would be marvellous," Sherlock told him without looking up from his work as I flicked my eyes up at him briefly before I picked up another one of my books.

"And coffee, cream two sugars," I told Dimmock from my spot on the couch. I looked up as Sherlock turned to me, a slight smile playing around his lips and Dimmock and John also turned to stare at me. "What?" I asked them and Dimmock looked across to John next and John just shook his head apologetically before Dimmock turned and left the room. "I was serious. I really do want a coffee," I said as soon as Dimmock had left the room. John sighed and moved over to the kitchen and I grinned, knowing he was going to make coffee for me. "Thank you John!" I called to him and I heard him grunt back to me. Sherlock turned back through looking through the crates and John returned to the living room and handed me a mug of coffee before he went and took a seat back at the dining table.

Sherlock took out a book from one of the crates and seemed to realize that he already had one like it from another crate. He put them side by side, two hard backed copies of Iain Banks' "Transition" and showed them to me. He opened one of them to page fifteen, and he looked at the first word on the page and then narrated the word in exasperated disappointment for me. "Cigarette," He told me, slamming the book closed before he put both versions on top of a pile on the table in front of John.

"Ah," John remarked as I took a sip of my coffee which was exactly how I liked it before I stood up. I saluted Sherlock with my mug then put it down on the coffee table and cracked open a crate.

"Once more onto the breach," I remarked and Sherlock ginned at me briefly before we both went back to rummaging through the crates as John put his pile on the floor and went back to get more from a crate.

Time passed very quickly or so it seemed as we looked for books that Vann Coon and Lukis both owned. Sherlock found two more identical books from the two men's collections, "Freakonomics. He flicked to page fifteen and the first word on the page to me before looking up at me in frustration. "Imagine." Again he dumped the two books on John's pile and John sighed. At some point Sherlock removed his jacket and John his cardigan and I made us all some tea as we stayed up going through all of the night. Books were scattered everywhere, all over the table and the floor and pretty much every available surface in the flat. I sat on the floor amongst a growing pile of books and tissues. Some of the crates had been shifted about by the boys which meant I had my own little fort. Sherlock ran his fingers thought his hair and then looked around at the crates, sighing as an alarm went off on John's watch. John looked at it and then out of the window as if to confirm that it really was morning. He sighed tiredly before burying his head in his hands.

After staying that way for a few minutes he got up and tiredly lugged himself towards his room. A few minutes later he trudged back down the stairs and walked through the kitchen and into the bathroom. The sound of the water turning on reached my ears and I got up from my little spot on the floor and shuffled into the kitchen. I turned the kettle on before I popped an English muffin into the toaster and cracked an egg in a bowl before putting it in the microwave once I was assured it was eyeball free. I found some ham and cheese and once the egg was cooked I heated it together on a plate. Once the kettle boiled I made a to go cup of tea for John before putting together the egg and ham breakfast sandwich which was as fancy as I could cook this morning. I didn't want him going off to his shift without having eaten anything. Lord knows we hadn't really eaten the day before. The water turned off in the bathroom and a few minutes later John Watson stepped out of the bathroom in a new pair of clothes and slightly damp hair. He looked over at where the smell was coming from and I gave him his mug of tea and his sandwich wrapped in a bit of foil so he could take it with him.

"You are a saint," He told me, lightly kissing the side of my head as I helped him into his coat, holding what he needed me to so he could get his arm inside the sleeve before he took it all back from me. "Thank you," he told me and I waved him off.

"What are friends for?" I asked him sleepily and he grinned before looking over to Sherlock who was sitting in his chair in his mind place.

"Try not to kill him. And eat yourself. How are you feeling?" John asked me looking me over.

"I'm fine," I told him waving him off. "Now go before you are late," I told him and he nodded, waving a hand at me before he headed out of the flat. As soon as he was gone Sherlock bounced up out of his chair and walked over to me, steering me to the couch though the path of books and crumpled tissues on the floor. "Um Lock?" I asked him as he pushed my shoulders down so I sat on the couch.

"Your body's insistent need to be a petri dish for pathogens is interfering with my work. Your coughing and infernal blowing of your nose are disrupting my thinking," Sherlock told me grumpily as he pulled my legs up onto the couch. I looked up at him with one eyebrow raised as I complied and laid down on the couch. He took the quit that was thrown over the back of the couch and tucked it around me tightly as I shivered slightly.

"So, I'm not going to magically get better because a cold is interfering with the thinking processes of Sherlock Holmes," I said thickly, having to shout the last part as Sherlock disappeared through the kitchen and I heard doors opening. He returned with a pillow under his arm and an air vaporizer under the other.

"No, but rest will ultimately make you better faster and the EMT said you needed rest due to your head injury," Sherlock told me as he made me sit up and he put the pillow behind my head before he set up the air vaporizer on the coffee table and turned it on. "Therefore, until you sound better you will rest on the couch. I will not have you slowing down this case because of your insufficient immune system."

"You always say such nice things," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me with a frown before he noticed I was smiling up at him. "If I said tea would make me feel better would you make some for me?" I asked him and he raised an eyebrow at that.

"My brother might fall for that trick, but I certainly won't," Sherlock told me with a smirk and I pouted.

"Sherlock," I whined and he shook his head.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock suddenly yelled, waiting for a few minutes before smiling triumphantly as he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

"What is it dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock as she walked into our flat. "Oh, it's a right mess in here," Mrs. Hudson said, looking around before spotting me. "Oh, you look a right sight dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she pushed past Sherlock and bent over me, putting her hand on my forehead. "You're a bit warm," She said before she straightened up and looked back at Sherlock who was smirking at me. Trust him to prey upon the kindness of Mrs. Hudson who couldn't help from mothering the sick. I laughed before it turned into a cough when Mrs. Hudson suddenly smacked Sherlock on the arm. "Sherlock Holmes, dragging the poor thing all over London in the cold. I would have thought you had more sense than that," Mrs. Hudson scolded Sherlock as he rubbed his arm, pouting as I stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm going to go make some soup for you dear. I'll get you some tea first though," Mrs. Hudson told me as she turned back to me and fixed my quilt. She shook her head one more time at Sherlock before she tottered off to do just that.

"Well, bit unexpected reaction, but it worked to my intentions," Sherlock remarked as he walked over to his chair and sat back down in it, adopting his thinking pose.

"Completely," I told him with a grin and he rolled his eyes at me before he lapsed into silence. Mrs. Hudson brought me some tea before hovering over me. She took my temperature which was 37.8 Celsius, 100.1 for all you Americans, and then she put a cold compress over my forehead. She made good on the promise of soup and brought up some tomato soup for me. She left a bowl for Sherlock which he didn't eat of course and she only returned down stairs after she cleaned up my tissues and got me set up with more blankets, assuring I was comfortable. After being tucked into a cocoon of warmth and reasonably fed, I finally allowed my eyes to droop and I fell asleep.

**Sherlock's POV**

After Lexi nodded off on the couch, Sherlock took some time to observe the Irish detective. It wasn't that Sherlock really was distracted by her being sick, he could think whether she was ill or not, but the very need to make sure she was alright every few minutes was what was distracting him. Every time she coughed violently he wondered if there was something he might do to ease her suffering. He knew it couldn't be easy on her. She had already injured herself with the assassin in the flat, she had then injured herself while saving his life from the very killer they were now tracking down, had almost been killed by him herself and received several stiches, and now her body betrayed her with sickness. Illness was not Sherlock's area and he often avoided being ill himself at all costs. Therefore, the only thing he could do to insure her comfort and a speedy recovery was to acquire the help of Mrs. Hudson who could never say no to mothering the ill or injured. Sherlock continued working on the crates as Lexi slept but decided to try a different tactic.

"A book that everybody would own," Sherlock muttered to himself as he turned to his bookcase and pulled down the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, the Holy Bible, and Syphilis and Local Contagious Disorders. He put them on top of the nearest crate and opened the dictionary to the correct page. Fifteen. Entry one," Sherlock said aloud, becoming frustrated when he found the word was add. He moved to the last book he took down and repeated the process. The word nostrils didn't seem like the first word of a Chinese cipher so he put that book aside and picked up the Bible, flicking to page fifteen which was partway through the Book of Genesis. The first word was I. Sherlock closed the book as he heard a door slam shut and he propped his elbows on the crate and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up slightly as John walked into the room. It was now that Sherlock noticed that he was wearing clean clothes. He vaguely recalled John and Lexi having a conversation before he left for work. Dull. John looked around the flat before his eyes landed on Lexi who Sherlock noticed was just starting to stir from her sleep. Looking at the clock Sherlock noticed that it had been a full eight hours since that morning. It was strange how quickly time flew when one's mind was occupied, but how slowly it dragged on when there was nothing to do.

"Why does she get to sleep?" John asked Sherlock flabbergasted as Lexi's eyes blinked open and she frowned sleepily. Sherlock smirked slightly at the sight of her sleep mussed hair and the way her nose wrinkled, accentuating her freckles as she burrowed back into the blankets.

"Because her immune system has decided to do a nose dive," Sherlock told John before he heard a giggle from under the mound of blankets on the couch before they moved and Lexi's head popped out from under them. She stretched slightly before sitting up her hair all tangled.

"That and he dislikes hearing me complain," Lexi told John before yawning which ended in a slight cough. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction as the sound proved she was feeling better than before. It was a less sever cough and she was sniffling less.

"I need to get some air. We're going out tonight," Sherlock told John, changing the subject before he let his mind wander down the current path it was on.

"Actually, I've, er, got a date," John told Sherlock, smiling smugly and the Irish detective crowed before dissolving into giggles.

"What?" Sherlock asked before looking over to Lexi. "Quiet down woman before I mistake you for a pack of Hyenas," He told her and he missed the smirk she shot him as he turned back to John.

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun," John said, shooting a look over at the Irish detective who was now in the midst of a tiny coughing fit amongst her laughter.

"That's what I was suggesting," Sherlock told John, frowning as both men ignored the woman on the couch.

"No it wasn't ... at least I hope not," John said eyeing Sherlock strangely. What was the difference? Two people who like each other going out and having fun. That was exactly what he suggested the three of them go out and do. Lexi liked Molly and they seemed to have set some sort of date together.

"Where are you taking her?" Sherlock asked slightly out of curiosity. Maybe Lexi would enjoy going out for a bit, do something fun. He could be…fun. He normally didn't go out and do things but maybe he could take her out. Have dinner… go from there.

"Er, cinema," John said and Sherlock grimaced. Was that where people went on dates? No certainly not. Lexi liked movies but she could see them any time she wanted too. A date should be doing something you normally wouldn't. Wasn't that the whole idea?

"Oh, dull, boring, predictable," Sherlock told him as he took a piece of paper from his trouser pocket and walked across to John and lowered his head to hide a smug smile before handing it to him. It just so happened that Sherlock had made a connection about the Yellow Dragon Circus, the flyer of which he had found on his search for the graffiti. It was where he purposed to take John and Lexi, but this could work if John would take his date there. "Why don't you try this?" Sherlock offered as John took it and looked at the piece of paper. "In London for one night only," Sherlock told him and John chuckled, then offered the paper back to Sherlock.

"Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice," John told him before glancing round at Lexi who had settled back on the couch and was just watching them with inquisitive eyes. It always surprised Sherlock how she could remain silent with that calculating gaze of hers, a silent observer of proceedings. "I'm going to go take a kip for a bit," John said before turning and leaving the living room, trudging up to his room. Once the door to his room closed Sherlock turned to Lexi.

"What do you say? Care to go out to the circus?" Sherlock asked her raising one eyebrow. It was hard to know what she would say. Yes, he was going because he believed the smugglers were behind the circus but it was a perfect excuse to go out on a date. Two people enjoying one another's company and having fun.

"You mean the circus that the Black Lotus are more than likely behind?" Lexi asked Sherlock surprising him. "I know you. You wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't for the case. Besides, the name sort of gives it away. Chinese circus only in London for one night, bit obvious really," Lexi said as she got up off of the couch and stretched. "It sounds fantastic actually," Lexi told him with a grin. Sherlock found himself grinning back not even bothering to try and hide it. "I'll convince John to bring his date there. Not that I approve of crashing his dates, but lately the women he has been going out with are far below him or using him because he's nice. We can check out the circus and I can check out his date."

"Agreed. Your logic is very sound," Sherlock said as he took a seat in his chair and she took the seat across from him that John normally occupied. The two detectives grinned at one another before pressing their heads closely together as they formed a plan of what they were going to do. All the while, the British Government watched the small scene unfolding in the flat and was unsure if he should be happy or very, very afraid.


	39. The Yellow Dragon Circus

**(A/N) Alright, let's see how short I can keep this author's note, there are a lot of things to tell you though. Firstly OH MY GOD! We just hit over 250 followers and we're one off from 200 favourites. BLOODY FREAKING HELL! I LOVE YOU ALL! Now that the shouting is done, this story will now be UPDATED ON TUESDAYS AND SATURDAYS. See, I wrote it in caps so you can see it even if you aren't reading my rambling. Haha I told you. I start back at Uni in about a week and these days are better for me to post. Next order on the agenda, MORE STORIES TO COME. I know I said before that once I was done with Lexi's story I was going to not be posting any more on here as I took time to write my novels. I will be starting my novels at some point in the future, but I'm letting them rest for now. For the last year I've been in Uni I've kept to myself and haven't made many friends because I was at a bad point in my life and anxious around people, but I'm doing better and I want to get involved in clubs at Uni. I'm only going to be in college once and I think I need time to develop my stories and character's farther so you will be getting more oneshots and possibly another series, most likely for Doctor Who at some point in time. I know, brilliant right. **

**For those of you wondering how my appointment went, better than I expected. I'm getting contacts because I want to seem more normal now and my specialist thinks she can get me to 20/50 vision with the changes she made. I have to have a pair of reading glasses too, but much better than before. Also, a light bulb kind of came over her head and she is no longer thinking I have the genetic disease. We were never conclusive on that as there are no histories of it in my family but some adoptions on both my parent's sides. We are thinking it might be glaucoma now which wasn't caught when I was younger. I go for an evaluation at the end of the month and we either find it or we don't. The next step would be a neurologist to see if my brain and eyes just aren't working together. I have a lot of the symptoms of glaucoma though so I'm hopeful. It would be good to find out for certain what I have, but it would suck too because I've already lost my peripheral vision and I'll never get it back, but we could stop it before it progresses further and I would know that this is as bad as it should get. I'll keep you updated as I know more about what might be going on. **

**Kim97- Email me sweetie. I would love to get to talk to you more. MelodyMorrison221 gmail dot com.**

**Now, onto the chapter! I just finished writing the Reichenbach Fall and now I'm on the Empty Hearse, I love it! So sad to write but I did some brilliant things with it in my opinion. Enjoy the chapter, we're getting close to Sherlock and Lexi FINALLY getting together. Oh and Owl the code names appear in this chapter for the first time or at least Sherlock and Lexi's. I think John's first appears in the next chapter.**

**XOXO Melody Morrison**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Seven- The Yellow Dragon Circus <strong>

**"My friend's wiry arms were around me and he was leading me to the chair.  
>"You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake say that you're not hurt!"<br>It was worth a wound -it was worth many wounds- to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay beyond that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain."  
>― Arthur Conan Doyle, <em>The Adventure of the Three Garridebs<em>**

**Lexi's POV**

Our plan was to have me convince John to bring his date to the circus so we could show up as well. I agreed with Sherlock that it was highly likely that the Black Locus were connected to it as it was suspiciously only in London for one night. Mrs. Hudson's soup and a bit of rest made me feel a lot better than I had. I didn't exactly feel one hundred percent and I still coughed occasionally but it was more manageable. I believed that was in part to Sherlock setting up the vaporizer in the room. For all his complaining about my immune system, I didn't actually get sick often and when I did, I got over it rather quickly. I got a cold for a few days, I coughed up a lung and then I was all set to go again. I could manage the suppressed coughing and the sniffling, even the sore throat. The only plus about being sick was that it meant Mycroft didn't visit me. He was actually a germaphobe. I rested for a bit longer in John's chair reading a book and sometime while I was reading Sherlock brought me some tea. I reached over to the side table and picked up the mug, bringing it to my lips and sipping on it. I suddenly was met with a burst of peppermint. I smiled and looked across at the consulting detective who was watching me.

"Peppermint, how did you know?" I asked him and he smirked smugly back at me.

"When you can't sleep you always drink peppermint tea. It's also the first thing you bought and John just got more. That means you drink it out of comfort when you aren't feeling well. Obviously," Sherlock told me and I shook my head slightly before taking another sip of my tea which was so bloody perfect I might actually consider kissing the consulting detective. Peppermint tea had always been my go to when I felt like crap. It did wonders when you had a cold as well and tasted far better than ginger tea not that I was complaining, Mrs. Hudson's tea was lovely as always.

"Thank you," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me a smile still on his face as I curled up with my book again. We sat in companionable since for a while before I realized that I should probably take a shower. I wasn't going to get dressed until after John left, but I could really use a change of clothes.

I got up, leaving Sherlock in his Mind Palace as I went to my room and grabbed some sweatpants and a jumper and went and took a shower. I cleaned off the trances of blood that I had missed under my fingernails and the grime of London. I got out of the shower gingerly, happy that the steam had helped to clear up some congestion and shuffled towards the sink after pulling my clothes on. I hurriedly brushed my teeth, cavities didn't stop for crime, and then I roughly yanked a brush through my hair. I decided to actually set about doing something with my hair and I got out the blow drier and waited the ten long minutes for it to finally get dry. Also a bit of an overachiever I found my curling iron and plugged it in before waiting for it to heat up as I put on a slight bit of foundation so I wouldn't look like a zombie. If I got too gussied up John might get suspicious, but that didn't mean I had to look like hell had just frozen over. I put some curls back into my hair before putting everything away and grabbing all of my clothes. I threw them into my hamper on my way back to the living room. Just as I walked in so did John from upstairs. He was wearing his date night attire and he had a big grin on his face.

"Oh, let me see," I told him, forcing him to turn around as he chuckled at my enthusiasm.

"Do I pass inspection?" He asked me and I looked him over once more before nodding.

"You'll do. So where are you taking her?" I asked John, throwing a look over at Sherlock who was acting like he wasn't listening as we had planned.

"Er, well I was thinking dinner and then maybe the cinema," John told me and I shook my head as I plopped down on his seat again. For now it was my chair. "Well, what's wrong with that?" John asked me frowning and I sighed heavily.

"Let me give you some dating advice and Sherlock you can listen to this too," I told him and he opened one eye lazily to look at me before I sat up straighter and gave my full attention to John. What I was about to tell him were secrets that no woman should divulge to a man. "Women like to be surprised. Sure, dinner and a movie is nice, but it is predictable date activities. You need to surprise a woman. It shows you actually made effort because you didn't go and do the obvious thing. You could take her to an untraditional restaurant or go do something she wouldn't expect out of you," I told John and he nodded.

"Well when you put it that way," John said chuckling a little bit. "Do you still have that flyer Sherlock?" John asked the consulting detective who didn't open his eyes as he reached into his pocket and took out the piece of paper, handing it to John.

"Use my card," Sherlock offered John and the army doctor looked in him in bafflement and then looked at me silently asking me if he was being serious. I shrugged at him knowing Sherlock was and John shook his head before taking out his mobile and going into the kitchen. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at me grinning. "Phase one," Sherlock mouthed to me as we sat back listening in as John called and made reservations under the name of Holmes for two. He returned to the living room and we sat nonchalantly as he eyed us suspiciously.

"Alright, I'm going to go meet Sarah. Try not to blow up the flat," John told us and I grinned at him innocently.

"Moi? Blow up the flat?" I asked him and he snorted at me. Yeah, that was a highly likely occurrence around Sherlock and me but we didn't actually plan for that to happen. "Alright, you have a point," I conceded. "Definitely no blowing up the flat," I assured John and he nodded, sparring a look at Sherlock before he shook his head and left the flat. "Phase two!" I said as soon as we heard the door slam shut down stairs. Sherlock and I both bounced up out of our chairs and I went back to my room to finish getting ready as Sherlock got his mobile and the number from the flyer John had left in the kitchen and rang them back to get two more tickets.

I wasn't sure what I should wear. Sherlock and I weren't going out on a date, more like we were crashing John's but I still felt the need to at least dress up a bit. I decided on a green skater dress that went down to my knees and had a modest neckline and a pair of black pumps that were practical and looked nice but weren't too dressy. I brought them into the bathroom to change and I was glad that the three quarter length sleeves would hide my arm. Once I put my dress and heels on I applied a little more make-up, a slight bit of blush to add some colour to my pale cheeks and then just a bit of black eyeliner and tinted lip balm. I piled my hair up into a bun and then I rummaged around in one of the drawers before I found my chopsticks, sliding them into my bun. It seemed appropriate given the occasion. I nodded at my reflection before taking my clothes back to my room and throwing them on my bed to change into later before I met Sherlock in the kitchen. He was wearing a new suit now and his hair looked slightly less rumbled than before. I cleared my throat to let him know I was there and he turned around. His eyes widened slightly and I raised an eyebrow at him before his composure went back to calm, cool, and collected.

"You, um, you look rather nice," Sherlock told me and I grinned at him, curtsying a little. It was nice to get compliments every now and then and as it wasn't usually something Sherlock did it meant even more to me.

"So ready to go Shamrock?" I asked him and he frowned at me.

"Shamrock?" He asked me, his nose wrinkling slightly at the nickname.

"Mmm hmm" I hummed, still grinning at him. "We're on a secret mission to interrupt John's date with Sarah and discover a Chinese smuggling group behind a circus in London for one night. We're like secret agents and you need a code name," I told Sherlock and he rolled his eyes at me.

"I will assume that you are Bond then?" Sherlock scoffed and I shook my head, giving him a pointed look.

"No, I'm Lexington, you're Shamrock. So are you ready to go?" I asked him and he nodded at me. I was just keeping the mood light and cheerful. This was sort of fun, it was like being a spy and infiltrating the enemy. Sherlock and I got our coats on and I used my second scarf, the red plaid, since my green one had been a casualty of war. We left the flat and I was surprised when instead of hailing us a cab Sherlock offered me his arm. I raised an eyebrow at him but offered up no other objection as I took his arm and we started off down the street. We walked in companionable silence down Baker Street and I looked up at Sherlock occasionally. We finally crossed a few streets before he led me to a restaurant called the Royal Asian Fusion. I frowned at him in confusion as he opened the door and led me inside. We got a table for two in one of the back corners and once we were finally sitting I asked the question that was begging to be asked. "What are we doing here?" I asked Sherlock and he raised an eyebrow at me and smirked slightly over the top of his menu.

"John and his date "Sarah" will most likely eat first. That give us roughly an hour and a half to kill before the show stars. You need to eat and you mentioned you liked Sushi. Conclusion, dinner," Sherlock told me as our waiter came over and asked us what we would like to like to drink. "A bottle of your Longfellow 2001 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon," Sherlock ordered for us and the waiter nodded, smiling at us briefly before walking away.

"Since when do you drink wine?" I asked Sherlock arching one of my eyebrows as he folded his hands pensively.

"I drink wine on occasion if it is the right wine and with the right food," Sherlock told me sniffing slightly as if to say so there. I held my hands up in a defensive manner.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, just asking," I told him with a smirk when he rolled his eyes at me.

"That phrase makes no sense," Sherlock told me before continuing. "One cannot get their knickers in a twist."

"Well they could just not in this situation," I told Sherlock shrugging and he shifted awkwardly at the innuendo. "So Shamrock, what's our plan of action?" I asked him changing the subject as our waiter came back with two glasses and the bottle of wine that Sherlock ordered. He popped the cork and poured us two glasses before letting us know that he would give us a few more minutes to decide what we wanted to eat.

"The smugglers will probably have some evidence about their activities lying around. We'll need to find something to support our deductions and find them out," Sherlock told me as I glanced over my menu.

"And then we go wham bam thank you ma'am and take them out. It has promise," I told Sherlock who sighed as our waiter came back over. Sherlock surprised me by actually ordering a teriyaki chicken and rice dish. I assumed he would pull the digestion slows me down card and not eat. I ordered some tuna sushi which I actually was partially too. It was Mycroft's fault for bringing me to Anthea's fancy dinner party.

"I was going for the more subtle approach if you think you can contain yourself," Sherlock told me as he picked up his glass of wine and swirled it around before taking a sip. Did he always have to be so posh?

"I think I can do just fine," I told him, rolling my eyes. It wasn't like I was going to go blundering in there and make a mess of things. More than likely I would have to fix a mess that Sherlock made. Out of the two of us I was a little more suitable for recon work. We made small talk for a while, deducing the other diners, two couples on dates one was going well the other not so much, a man and a woman who were both unhappy in their marriage and trying to rekindle their relationship, and a gay couple who were actually rather sweet together. Our food arrived and all conversation stopped as we ate, Sherlock picking at his dish. Throughout the meal we went through an entire bottle of wine and then another. It was nice to have a break from the case and do something normal. Go out for dinner and just have a reasonably normal discussion with Sherlock. We sat back after we ate and just stared at each other for a moment until Sherlock was the one to break the silence.

"How's your arm?" Sherlock asked me and I looked down at it before looking back up at him and shrugging. It felt better than before. My tolerance for pain was high and it was shallow enough that it wouldn't take long for it to heal.

"Alright I guess. Haven't taken any more pain meds since what you last gave me so that's something. Course, wine always helps too," I told Sherlock with a grin and he smirked back at me.

"Your sniffling seems to have gotten better. Good, you'll be less irritating," Sherlock said and I coughed out a laugh at that.

"I'll have to endeavour to find other ways then," I told him with a mischievous smile and he rolled his eyes at me. I was used to this very Holmes' form of communication. It made me all the more interested to meet the Holmes' parents. If this was how Sherlock and Mycroft were like, how were they, especially with the way Sherlock and Mycroft talked about them? Sherlock had made a few offhanded comments, only to me, but now I was even more curious than before. We sat for a while longer together and out waiter returned with our cheque before long. Sherlock paid the bill not even listening to my protest of 'I am an independent Irish woman and I don't need anyone to pay for me'. We left the restaurant together, waiters passing smiles off to us which I raised my eyebrow at even as I accepted the arm Sherlock offered me. I shrugged it off as we stepped outside and Sherlock hailed us a cab this time. I made him get in first with a simple, "I'm wearing a dress. Eyes front solider" which made him blush slightly. Once we were both in the cab it pulled off into traffic again and we headed off to complete Phase three of tonight's activities.

**John's POV**

John was feeling very smug and content. His dinner with Sarah at a little Chinese restaurant near the place where the circus was being performed had gone perfectly. He had taken Lexi's advice and taken her somewhere untraditional where you sat on cushions instead of chairs and drank copious amounts of green tea. They were getting on really well and he had kept her laughing throughout all of dinner. He wouldn't say he needed Lexi's help planning a date with Sarah, he could plan a date just fine on his own, but he was glad that he took her advice. Sarah definitely seemed surprised which meant his plan was working perfectly. A small portion of John, and he meant very, very small bit, felt slightly guilty for leaving Lexi alone with Sherlock all night while he went out on a date. Odds were that Sherlock would probably pester her about the case and she needed rest. John had noticed she seemed a little under the weather, but there wasn't much he could do for her. A cold took it's time to get over and it was best to just let it run its course. Medicine only supressed the symptoms, it didn't make you better quicker in fact it could prolong it.

John escorted Sarah up the slope towards the building. "It's years since anyone took me to the circus," Sarah remarked with bright eyes.

"Right, yes! Well, it's ... a friend recommended it to me. He phoned up," John chuckled nervously with his hands behind his back. It was a better lie than saying his flatmates, one of which was another woman, gave him the advice. John knew enough about women to know that mentioning you had a female flatmate on the first date might not be a good idea. There would always be questions about that such as if you liked her and jealousy. John only liked Lexi as a friend and thought of her as a sister. He never got to be a brother towards Harry as she really wouldn't let him but Lexi acted like the younger sister towards him. That was one of the reasons why John was so concerned over the new development between the consulting detectives. He didn't know what they were but they argued like an old married couple. That and they were as thick as thieves. It was slightly disconcerting leaving them alone together and John would be lying if he didn't admit he was slightly worried about how he might find the flat when he got home. Maybe if things went well on his date he wouldn't have to worry about it until morning.

"Ah. What are they, a touring company or something?" Sarah asked him curiously and John frowned.

"I don't know much about it," John told her truthfully. They paused and looked at a number of red Chinese lanterns that were strung up outside the hall.

"I think they're probably from China!" Sarah laughed and John joined her with an awkward chuckle.

"Yes, I think ... I think so, yes," John told her before speaking quietly to himself. "There's a coincidence!" John knew. He just knew that Sherlock and Lexi had been up to something back at the flat but he had let it go right over his head. First Sherlock had recommended that he bring Sarah here and he had done the right thing and refused. Then Lexi had told him that he need to take Sarah somewhere unexpected and he had bought right into it. He would have expected this from Sherlock but not from Lexi. It would appear that Sherlock had acquired her help with whatever grand scheme he had of getting John to go to of all things a bloody circus. John took Sarah inside to the Box Office where the manager was giving a customer her tickets.

"That's wonderful. Thank you very much," The woman said as Sarah and John waited in line. He could still make the most of this. It wasn't as if Sherlock or Lexi were suddenly going to turn up and ruin his date.

"Okay," The manager told her and the woman turned and walked up the nearby stairs as John walked over to the office as Sarah looked around.

"Hi. I have, er, two tickets reserved for tonight," John told the manager, smiling slightly.

"And what's the name?" The manager asked him sounding slightly bored.

"Er, Holmes," John said rummaging in his jacket for his wallet. The manager turned and rifled through the reservations before turning back to John with an envelope.

"Actually, I have four in that name," The manager said and John frowned. Four, he had only booked two. They must have made a mistake.

"No, I don't think so. We only booked two," John told him firmly. Surely…no. They wouldn't. He was going to kill them.

"And then I phoned back and got one for myself and Lexi as well," A voice suddenly said behind him as the sound of heels against the floor reached his ears. John looked up in disbelief and turned as Sherlock and Lexi walked over to them. John couldn't believe what he was seeing. Not only where they there but Lexi was in a dress and heels and her hair was pulled up into a bun. She was also wearing more makeup than he had ever seen her wear before and she was smiling as if Sherlock and she had just been having a pleasant conversation before they walked up. John of course didn't know that they had, the subject on blood splatter analysis had come up and then a very comical discussion about Anderson. Sherlock offered his hand out to Sarah as Lexi stood beside him her hands clasped behind her back.

"I'm Sherlock," Sherlock introduced himself as Sarah glanced at John momentarily, she turned back to the two consulting detectives and shook Sherlock's hand a little nervously. John looked away from them in complete and utter exasperation. One night, they couldn't give him one bloody night.

"Alex. You of course must be Sarah. John was telling me about you. All good things of course," Lexi introduced herself with a grin, offering out her hand and Sarah took it a little less nervously and shook it. Alex? John mused over that for a second. Mike had said that she only introduced herself as Lexi to people she decided she liked but others called her Alex, Alexia, or even Lex. It would appear that she introduced herself given her level of comfort with each person. So she at least liked Sarah. John had noticed that Sherlock had introduced her as Alexandria to Sebastian and that prediction had been right. Well, not like he needed her approval over who he picked, but it was nice to know she would at least be civil towards Sarah.

"Er, hi," Sarah said awkwardly, eyeing Lexi a bit. John groaned inwardly. Here came the discussion about him having a female flat mate and two flatmates that didn't understand the concept of boundaries.

"Hello," Sherlock said, giving Sarah his fake smile before he instantly turned and walked away leaving the three of them standing there. John glared at Lexi and she only smirked back at him which infuriated him more.

"Why don't you go find Sherlock, John? I'm just going to pop to the loo," Lexi said her Irish accent coming out slightly, almost like she had been drinking. That was another thing John had noticed. Oh yes, John was making a list now. He could be just as observant as they were. Lexi's accent only got bad on four occasions. When she was tired, when she was pissed, when she was drunk, or when she was around other Irish people. Well she had slept a good part of the day, she wasn't pissed because she was smiling, and there certainly weren't any other Irish people around here so that left only one other option.

"I think I'll join you. Could use a trip myself," Sarah said smiling slightly at Lexi and John sighed as both women left in each other's company. Why me, John thought. Why did he have to be the one to deal with Sherlock and Lexi? Why couldn't they just let him have one night without cases or having to see their faces? John stormed off to go and find Sherlock to find out what the bloody hell was going on.

**Lexi's POV**

After my initial introduction with Sarah I wasn't sure how I felt about her. She was nice enough but I wasn't sure if she was exactly what John needed. She was pretty, intelligent or at least she would have to be if she was a doctor, and I could see the charm that John saw in her but I just got a slight vibe off of her. John just, he needed someone who wasn't boring. Sarah was nice but she was predictable. She went to work every day and went home and maybe went out and did something spontaneous every now and again. John wasn't just John Watson though. He was Doctor Watson, but he was also Captain Watson and he had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. They were many different types of addicts. Caffeine addicts were the most common and their addiction wasn't seen as an unhealthy problem. Then you had you typically thought of addicts like I had been. Typically we were called the junkie. Then you had a subclass of junkie, the adrenaline junkie who needed danger in their life. John fell into this subclass. His time in the military had changed him. Where once he was fond of the quiet life now he craved the danger. It was why he went on the first case with us, why this had all started.

"So um, how do you know John?" Sarah asked me as we entered the bathroom and she went to use the loo while I washed my hands and fixed my hair. I really didn't need to use the loo, I had just used it as an excuse to get a few minutes to deduce Sarah without John and to give John time to go and find Sherlock and say whatever he needed to say to him before we got back.

"We're flatmates," I told her, not really paying attention to the question or how bad it would sound.

"Oh…you're flatmates," Sarah said as the flushing of the toilet brought me out of my thoughts. Oh crap. Yeah, that was going to go over well. John would kill me if I ruined his date for him more than we already had by showing up. Damage control!

"Yeah, he's really great. Like the brother I never had," I told Sarah as she came out of the stall and joined me at the counter to wash her hands.

"That's nice," Sarah said with a genuine smile. I sighed in relief. Mission accomplished, get it out of her head that there is anything going on between John and I accept being friends. I hated that women and people in general could be so Victorian. Men and woman could live together without shacking up. "So are you and Sherlock like a thing?" Sarah asked me as she tried her hands.

"We're friends," I told her and she nodded at me with a slight confused expression on her face before she shook her head.

"How long have you know them? You seem pretty close," Sarah asked me as she fixed her makeup and I leaned up against the counter staring at the little potted orchid that was meant to spruce up the dingy, tiny bathroom.

"Umm, over a month now," I told her after thinking about it. "A friend of mine Mike introduced me to John when we ran into him, they're old friends. We were both looking for a flatmate and then Mike introduced us to Sherlock who was also looking for a flatmate. We all kind of hit it off," I told her with a shrug. It was rather interesting how we met. One friend who knew the three of us bringing us all together.

"Sounds like destiny," Sarah laughed and I laughed with her. Actually it did. Destiny and fate it seemed had always been working to pull the three of us together.

"Maybe," I told her shaking my head as I smiled slightly in amusement. Maybe it was.

"You're Irish," Sarah suddenly said and I looked up at her and barked out a laugh.

"Aye. I am," I told her, thickening my accent on purpose and she grinned at me. "My full name is Alexandria MacKenna."

"Sorry but, Alexandria isn't really Irish is it?" Sarah asked me as we left the bathroom together and I laughed again.

"No, it isn't. My Mum was from Scotland and she wanted to name me a proper British name. So, Alexandria it is," I told her with a grin. I actually had two first names my second being my grandmother's name, Amelia. Mycroft rarely ever mentioned my other first name except when being exceedingly annoying.

"I think we should go see where our boys got off to," Sarah said and I nodded in agreement and shared a laugh with her.

"You never know what they'll get into," I laughed as we linked arms and went to find the consulting detective and the army doctor. I didn't know what John was worried about. I thought this was all going rather well.

**John's POV**

John finally found Sherlock a few steps up the stairs and he crossed his arms as he glared at the consulting detective who was staring at everyone who made their way past them. John uncrossed his arms and turned to Sherlock angrily, struggling to keep himself in control and keep his voice down as people made their way past them. "You couldn't let me have just one night off?" John asked him pointing at him angrily.

"Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day. It fits and Lexi agrees with me. The Tong sent an assassin to England…," Sherlock told him before John cut him off.

"…dressed as a tightrope walker," John scoffed before lowering his voice to a whisper and hissing at Sherlock. "Come on, Sherlock, behave!"

"We're looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope. Where else would you find that level of dexterity?" Sherlock asked him, pausing for a second and looking back before looking round at John again. John noticed that this was the second time he had done that. He keep looking back as if he was waiting to see Lexi. "Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all Lexi and I need to do is have a quick look round the place...," Sherlock said before John cut him off again having heard more than enough.

"Fine. You two do that; I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint," John told Sherlock pointing his thumb towards the door. Best bet was to just leave. Just leave and let them do whatever it was they bloody came to do.

"We need your help" Sherlock told him sternly and John looked at him in exasperation.

"I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!" John told him, trying to keep the level of his voice down.

"Like what?" Sherlock asked him and John blinked, staring at him in disbelief.

"You are kidding," John said shaking his head. This was coming from the man who was on a bloody date himself.

"What's so important?" Sherlock asked him and John blinked back at him again. Was he just playing stupid?

"Sherlock, I'm right in the middle of a date. You are too!" John told him raising his voice slightly. John had "deduced" a few things. Firstly Lexi had a few drinks before coming here and secondly she had dressed up. There also came the new development between the two detectives and John concluded that Sherlock had brought Lexi out on a date.

"I'm not on a date," Sherlock said immediately looking confused. "Who would I be on a date with?"

"Lexi," John deadpanned and Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Why would I be on a date with Lexi? Two people going out and having fun, I guess you could say we are on a date though she might disagree with the title for our little excursion," Sherlock remarked losing John completely.

"D'you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to...," John said changing the subject but breaking off the rest of his sentence.

"What?" Sherlock asked him raising his voice slightly.

"...while I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" John said losing his patience and talking much louder. It was at that moment that Lexi and Sarah had to reappear around the corner, arms linked together. John turned to Sarah and smiled at her awkwardly. "Heyyy," John said before he noticed that Lexi and Sherlock's eyes were locked and they seemed to be doing that thing again. Lexi unlinked her arm with Sarah's, John noticed that of course. He was slightly worried about how they now seemed to be best buddies in all of a few minutes. That was one thing John could never understand about woman. They went to the bathroom in groups and when they came back it was like they had known each other their entire lives. Just what where they keeping in the woman's restroom? Lexi smiled at John as she passed him and walked up the stairs, taking the hand that Sherlock offered her before Sherlock rolled his eyes, and then they turned and headed up the stairs together. It was the strangest thing John had ever seen and it all happened in the span of a few seconds. "Ready?" John asked Sarah sighing heavily before smiling as he tried to save his date.

"Yeah!" Sarah remarked brightly before they followed Sherlock and Lexi up the stairs. This was going to be a long night. "They're really sweet together," Sarah suddenly remarked and John looked round at her in surprise.

"Who?" John asked her and Sarah smiled at him gesturing up the stairs.

"Alex and Sherlock. She's says they're just friends, but they can't be, not with the way they look at each other," Sarah said giving John a knowing look.

"They're just friends as far as I know. Dating isn't really Sherlock's area. He says he's married to his work," John told her and her smile grew larger, exposing her teeth.

"Well, I think they're both wrong," Sarah told him as they reached the top of the stairs and a man took their tickets from them. Everyone, even John had to admit there was something going on between the detectives. What it was, that was for them to figure out and certainly not something he was going to worry about tonight.

**Lexi's POV**

Of course Sarah and I found John and Sherlock just as John said, "...while I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" very loudly. He smiled at Sarah awkwardly before saying, "Heyyy." I looked up at Sherlock and smirked at him.

'**Smooth Watson rather subtle,'** I remarked as I unlinked my arm with Sarah and I could see the amusement in Sherlock's eyes.

'**Mmm, he does need a few lessons. Maybe the Master of Subtlety can teach him,'** Sherlock quipped and I raised my eyebrow a hair as I passed by John on the stairs and smirked at him, taking the hand that Sherlock offered me.

'**Oh, were you talking about yourself?'** I asked Sherlock and he rolled his eyes at me as our fingers linked together before we turned and headed up the stairs together. Sherlock handed our tickets off to the man at the top of the stairs and we scanned the room we found ourselves in.

In the performance area was a stage on the side of the large hall, the curtains closed. It seemed as if the stage was not going to be used as a circle of candles had been laid out in the middle of the floor, about thirty feet in diameter. The room was dimly lit and the other patrons were gathering around the circle but there were no seats. Apparently the number of tickets had been limited as there was room for everyone to stand around the circle with a clear view. Sherlock and I started walking around the room in a circle together, scanning the room and the other patrons. When we made it one full revolution we stopped behind where John and Sarah were now standing.

'**See anything?'** Sherlock asked me flicking his eyes over to me briefly.

'**No, you?'** I asked him and he shook his head slightly.

"You said circus. This is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is...," John said grimacing with distaste. "...art," He finished, talking quietly over his shoulder to us, turning his head away from Sarah so that she couldn't hear him.

"This is not their day job," Sherlock responded equally quiet over his shoulder.

"No, sorry, I forgot. They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers," John said tetchily. Well, technically they were, but that didn't mean they couldn't be a circus as well.

The performance began with someone tapping out a rhythm on a tiny hand drum. Sherlock and I turned to face the same way as John and Sarah and John looked over his shoulder at us. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at him before flickering his gaze over to me and we shared a look. An ornately costumed Chinese woman with a heavily painted face, traditionally known as the Opera Singer in these sort of performance, walked into the centre of the circle and looked imperiously out at the audience before raising a hand in the air. The drummer finished his riff and the Opera Singer walked across the circle to a large object covered with a cloth which she now pulled back to reveal an antique-looking crossbow on a stand. She picked up a long thick wooden arrow with white feathers at one end and a vicious metal point at the other and showed it to the audience before fitting it into place in the crossbow. Straightening up, she pulled a single small white feather from her headdress and again showed it to the audience. On the rear of the crossbow was a small metal cup and she gently dropped the feather into it. Instantly the arrow was released and whizzed across the room. Sherlock and my heads whipped around to follow its flight while John and Sarah were still gasping at the sound of the arrow's release. By the time they looked round a moment later, the arrow was already embedded in a large painted board on the other side of the circle. Sarah turned to John and laughed, dramatically putting her hand over her heart. Alright over dramatic. I had even blinked. Some instrumental music began, and the audience applauded as a new character entered the circle, wearing chainmail and an ornate head mask. He held his arms out to the sides and two men came over and started to attach heavy chains and straps to him, strapping his now-folded arms in front of him and then backing him up against the board and started to chain him to it.

"Classic Chinese escapology act," Sherlock commented softly and John and Sarah turned to us.

"Hmm?" John asked Sherlock and I answered him with a smile.

"The crossbow is set on a delicate string as the Opera Singer demonstrated. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires," I explained to John and Sarah as the Opera Singer loaded another arrow into the crossbow. The men attached more padlocks and chains and one of them pulled a chain tight, yanking the warrior's head back against the board. The warrior cried out, but the men ignored him as they looped the chains through solid rings attached to the board and secured the warrior, who cried out again. Once they finished, they stepped away. The music began building in intensity and cymbals suddenly crash unexpectedly. Sarah jumped, clutching at John's arm.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry!" Sarah apologized, laughing in embarrassment, taking John's arm with her other hand as well. John laughed with her, then smiled delightedly as she let go with her more distant hand but continued to hold onto his arm with the other. I looked at Sherlock and we rolled our eyes. I shook my head as the Opera Singer picked up a small knife and displayed it to the audience.

"She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl," Sherlock told John and Sarah as the Opera Singer did just as he predicted and reached up to a small sandbag hanging on a long cable and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the sack.

Sand began to pour out, and the warrior repeatedly cried out with effort as he tugged at his chains. The sandbag's cable was looped over a pulley and a metal ball was attached to the other end. As the sand continued to pour out of the bag the weight lowered towards the bowl at the back of the crossbow. The warrior got one hand free and I was impressed by how good they were given this wasn't their day job. John was watching the weight lower, and Sarah looked nervously at it as it crossed paths with the sandbag on its way up. They turned to look at the warrior as he got his other hand free and started tugging at the chains around his neck. The weight was now only a few feet above the bowl and Sarah clung tightly to John's arm, grimacing. The warrior cried out again as he pulled at his chains and the weight got ever closer. As it almost reached the lip of the bowl the warrior loosened the chains around his neck and struggled to free himself. Sherlock's hand was suddenly in mine and I squeezed it, looking up at him in excitement as the weight touched the bowl and the arrow streaked across the room. With a split second to spare, the warrior pulled free of the chains and ducked down and the arrow thudded into the board. The warrior cried out triumphantly as the audience begins to applaud.

"Thank God," Sarah gasped in relief as John exclaimed "My God!" In these sort of acts there were risks taken but in any good show there were safety measures in place. Sherlock suddenly squeezed my hand and I looked up at him and he pointed to the closed curtains. I nodded at him and while everyone was still focusing on the performance and applauding the warrior we made our way over to the stage. We found a way to sneak on stage behind the curtains, finding that the stage was being used as the performers' dressing room. There was a dressing table with mirrors, free-standing clothes rails, and many other items all around. It was a little odd that they had so many costumes for a one night performance that probably only ran for about an hour. Sherlock and I started looking round at everything and I jumped when it looked as if another warrior was standing nearby only to find that the chainmail and mask was hanging on a stand. Sherlock smirked at me and I stuck my tongue out at him as we continued our search back stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, from the distant moonlight shores of the Yangtze River, we present for your pleasure the deadly Chinese bird-spider," We heard the Opera Singer say behind the curtain. Sherlock and I walked over to the curtains and he parted them slightly so we could look out at the performance. We looked on with interest as the acrobat floated around. Bird-spider and an acrobat? Say hello to our little friend.

"Well, well," Sherlock remarked, raising an eyebrow at me before a door to the right of the stage suddenly opened. Sherlock grabbed my hand and pulled me with him as we ran to take cover, pushing through the middle of the clothes on the clothes rail and then quickly spreading the items out again as the Opera Singer came onto the stage. She went over to the dressing table and picked up a mobile phone, checking it, but looked round sharply as one of the hangars on the rail fell to the floor, my hair having gotten caught on it as Sherlock pulled me with him. Sherlock pulled me down as the Opera Singer headed towards the rail and Sherlock and I crouched even lower but she continued on and left the stage. Sherlock and I sighed in relief. That could have been very not good. Sherlock and I looked down and found a bag on the floor near our feet. He reached forward and flipped it open, revealing several spray cans inside. He picked up one of them and read the label, showing it to me. It was labelled "Michigan". A yellow band across the bottom of the can denoting the colour of the paint was yellow. "Found you," Sherlock said in a soft, sing song voice as he helped me up.

He pushed through the clothes on the rail and walked over to the mirrors on the dressing table, shaking the can up as he went. I watched him from the cover of the clothes in case anyone came back as Sherlock bent down and sprayed a single almost-horizontal yellow line across one of the mirrors. As he looked at it I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the warrior's costume behind him had started to move. He must have noticed the same thing in the mirror because he frowned and turned around noticing at the same time I did that the costume was no longer on a stand and there was now a man inside of it. Suddenly the man charged forward at him, lashing out at him repeatedly with a large knife. Sherlock ducked backwards to avoid the blows as the warrior pressed forward. Fuck! What the hell do I do?! I looked around for something, anything I might be able to use. Sherlock used the can he was holding as a bit of a weapon, using it to block a blow from the warrior, ducking below the next swing of his knife, then clouting the can across the man's elbow. The warrior responded by kicking him hard in the stomach. What was with them all being stomach kickers, I thought as I groaned, knowing the feeling. Ah, think of something. So far I hadn't been noticed yet which was a good thing, but leaving Sherlock to get pummelled wasn't good.

The warrior grabbed Sherlock by the throat but thankfully dropped his knife in the process. Sherlock lashed the man's hand away from the neck and then sprayed the can directly into his masked face before bundling into him and shoving him away firmly. The warrior fell onto his back but used his momentum to raise his legs and then rolled forward and flipped to his feet again. Great, ha ha, Chinese bloody acrobats. Thank God I took gymnastics. The warrior took a flying leap at Sherlock, spinning as he went and his feet hit him in the chest. Sherlock was propelled backwards through the curtains and straight over the edge of the stage as I shouted a very loud "OI!" Sherlock fell onto the floor a few feet below. He crashed onto his back and struggled to get upright again but was too winded and couldn't move much as the warrior came flying out of the curtains and onto the floor in front of him. I looked around desperately and my eyes finally landed on of all things a broom. Oh yeah, I thought as I darted forwards and quickly took the duster part off of it leaving me with the stick. John was thankfully on the move straightaway, and when I looked up he was running towards the warrior as he raised a knife and prepared to plunge it downwards. Not on my watch. I quickly took off one of my heels and lobbed it at the Warrior. It bounced off his head and onto the floor below as I shouted, "My Sherlock!" John charged straight into him at that moment, pushing him back against the edge of the stage but the warrior lashed out with one foot, sending John stumbling across the room.

The audience fled, not offering any help up of course and I wasn't surprised when I saw Sarah running out with them. Some date she was! Well leave it to me, I thought as the acrobat took off his mask, took one look at the fight, and then a look up at the stage where I was standing. I waved at him with a glare and reached down taking my other heel off. He seemed to decide he that he wanted no part in this fight and he ran off but not before my other heel made contact with his retreating back. Sherlock was still down for the count, lying winded on the floor, and John was stumbling across the floor trying to catch his balance. The warrior had a wide- bladed sword in one hand and well, I had a sort of reputation when it came to assassins and swords. I took a few steps back before running at the edge of the stage, jumping off of it and landing in a roll which wasn't easy to do in a dress, I should have won a gold medal for that, before popping up quickly. The warrior raised the sword above his head, his concentration focussed on delivering the killing blow to the man at his feet, Sherlock of course. I raced across the room and yelled loudly as the warrior brought his sword down only to be met with my broom as I ducked under the falling blade and bent backwards over Sherlock, stopping the overhead slice. I was rather flexible when I needed to be.

The warrior seemed surprised to find a girl in between him and the man he was about to kill. I used his momentary surprise to my advantage and yelled at him in Gaelic before I used the fact that his sword was wedged into my broom as leverage to push off of and land a kick right to his unmentionables. Like any man he let go of his sword and stumbled backwards and that was when his sword decided to clatter to the ground. I took my broom and advanced on the warrior just as he jumped up. I managed to block his fist for the first few blows but he managed to land a particularly nasty one on my jaw. I circled back around him and then I yelled again, before landing a quick succession of blows on him before snapping my broom in half over my knee and using both shortened sticks in a series of well thought out moves, spinning around him and catching his leg between my sticks as he tried to kick me. I grinned at him, letting his foot fall and he stumbled slightly while I took advantage of his lack of balance to hit him over the head with my sticks as I had out intruder in our flat. He cried out in pain before he came crashing down to the floor in front of Sherlock, knocked out. I flung my sticks away from me and straightened up breathless before I suddenly noticed that my arm was bleeding and it was starting to soak into the sleeve of my dress and my coat. Oh bloody hell, I liked this dress and Mycroft got me this coat! Sherlock finally got off his lazy arse and sat up, leaning forward to the warrior's right foot and pulled off his shoe to reveal a Tong tattoo on his heel. John finally managed to turn around, though he was almost doubled over in pain and was still trying to catch his breath. Sherlock scrambled to his feet and John grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the exit.

"Come on," John told me barely audibly as Sherlock took my other hand and the three of us raced out of there.

"Come on! Let's go!" Sherlock shouted and we ran outside to find that Sarah was waiting out front unlike everyone else who had run for it.

"Oh my God! You're alright!" Sarah exclaimed as she rushed over to John. I let go of his hand and stepped back towards Sherlock, dropping my face into his chest as I caught my breath. He stiffened under me for a second before he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back. His eyes scanned quickly over my face and he brought one of his hands up and rubbed his thumb over my jawbone. I winced and he looked at me sympathetically.

"Alive yes. In one piece, maybe not," I told Sarah harshly. She officially was not on my list of people I liked. She hadn't cared that John might get hurt or need help, no she had just run off with the rest of them and she was a bloody doctor! I could care less about her wanting to help me but if she really did care about John she should have stayed behind.

"You're bleeding," Sarah said suddenly in horror and I huffed looking down at my arm as Sherlock did the same. John's head snapping round from me as he left off trying to comfort Sarah.

"Obviously," I snapped at her and Sherlock smirked as John hurried over to me to check me over.

"Are you okay?" He asked me worriedly as he helped me get my jacket off and then lifted the sleeve of my dress to see what was bleeding. "And could you be a little nicer to Sarah," John hissed at me quietly so she wouldn't hear.

"Eoin, ar ndóigh, tá mé ceart go leor. Bhí orainn ach duine éigin a briseadh isteach ar an árasán agus iarracht a dhéanamh dúnmharú dúinn mar thoradh dom a bheith stabbed praiticiúil ag a chlaíomh an. Sherlock mé suas ach tar éis a shábháil ar do shaol fuair mo greamanna ceirteacha tarraingthe amach. Creidim go fiú mé buíochas a ghabháil leat, ní liopa. Ach yeah, tá mé ceart go leor," I told John in Gaelic rolling my eyes. (John, of course I am okay. We only had someone break into the flat and try to murder us which resulted in me practically being stabbed by his very pointy sword. Sherlock stitched me up but after saving your life my stitches got pulled out. I believe I deserve a thank you, not lip. But yeah, I'm okay.)

"The only thing I understood in that sentence was Sherlock," John told me as he revealed my bleeding stitches which had been pulled as I expected so I was bleeding all over again. "Bloody hell Lexi," John said with a sharp intake of breath. "What happened?" He asked me and I looked at Sherlock and we shared a look as Sarah came over to see what John was looking at. She gasped when she saw my arm and I just shrugged.

"Training accident with the sword," I told him and he looked up at me in exasperation. I knew he would figure out it was a knife wound so my best bet was to spin a believable lie and sell it like I owned it. He already had told us that the swords were dangerous.

"I told you that this would happen!" John told me and I sighed. Sure tell me that. That would make everything better.

"Yes I know. I should have listened," I told him before I continued on. "Do something about it now or leave it until we get back to the flat. It currently is cold and I have no shoes now and I do have a cold so I would appreciate it if we figured out what we are going to do now," I told him and he looked up at Sherlock.

"Have the police been called?" John asked Sarah and she shook her head quickly.

"I don't think so. No one wanted to stick around and I didn't think about it," Sarah told him and I snorted. Oh she was brilliant. Let's not call the police when someone with a sword tries to murder someone, especially when that someone is Sherlock or really anybody for that matter.

Sherlock rolled his eyes before he took out his mobile and called Dimmock telling him to send some cars down to check out the hall for any signs of their criminal activity or where they might have been headed. After that we walked down the street and John managed to get some napkins from a restaurant we passed and he pressed them to my wound as we stood out on the curbing. Sherlock hailed us a cab and the four of us squeezed inside. I was sitting half on John's lap and half on Sherlock's which was fine with me as I warmed my feet on top of their legs. John told me that he could redo my stitches back at the flat and asked me who had done them the first time. I told them that it was Mycroft's doctor so he wouldn't be mad at Sherlock and he bristled a little bit and told me I should have told him sooner and he could have looked over it for me. I gave him the excuse of not wanting him to find out because I didn't want the 'I told you so' speech. It had just enough truth to it that he bought it and we arrived at the Yard without raising any suspicion over my injury. My jaw hurt and the first thing I was doing when I got back to the flat was putting ice on it after I had stopped my feet from being ice. We got up to Dimmock's division and to say he was not in a good mood was putting it lightly. He stormed into the office followed by the three of us and a rather bewildered Sarah. It was evident that John had divulged his second job to her.

"I sent a couple of cars. The old hall is totally deserted," Dimmock said stormily as we walked through the office.

"Look, I saw the mark at the circus – that tattoo that we saw on the two bodies: the mark of the Tong," Sherlock told Dimmock as he reached his desk and turned round to face us.

"Lukis and Van Coon were part of a-a smuggling operation. Now, one of them stole something when they were in China; something valuable," John continued with the explanation.

"These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back," Sherlock told him as I concentrated on trying to slow down my heart rate so I would bleed less quickly until we could get back to the flat and John could restitch me.

"Get what back?" Dimmock asked us and Sherlock bit his lip, looking away angrily.

"We don't know," John told him hesitantly and I sighed heavily.

"You don't know," Dimmock repeated and Sherlock still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Mr. Holmes...," He continued as he sat down. "I've done everything you two asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something," Dimmock said as Sherlock finally lifted his head and gave him a faint but proud smile. I reached across and put my hand in his, squeezing his hand gently and he squeezed mine back in return. I knew it meant more to him to hear the praise. It was important to me to, but he needed this. "I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I'll have something to show for it – other than a massive bill for overtime.

"Alright listen here laddie," I said as I took my hand back from Sherlock and leaned across Dimmock's desk, my Irish accent thick. I cut him off as he went to interrupt me. "I've had a real shite night so far, well, dinner was rather nice," I said, glancing back at Sherlock and grinning at him before turning back to Dimmock and reverting to my previous expression. "But I just went and fought with a bloody guy in the middle of that old hall. Tis nothing better than kicking some arse but I tore my bloody stitches so I'll tell ye this, we'll find you your evidence. This investigation would go a right shot faster if you listened to us. Lestrade thinks our advice is worth something because we've worked with him long enough. Between Sherlock and I tis seven years' worth so I'm going to go home and get some bloody rest, you are going to have your little raid, and then we are going to wrap this case up savvy?" I asked Dimmock and he eyed me like I was mental. He finally nodded and I straightened up grinning at him. "Good lad," I told him before turning around and walking right out of the division. Sherlock caught up with me a second later and we walked out together, John and Sarah following after us.

We got into the back of another cab and when were finally alone John, Sherlock, and I burst out laughing as Sarah eyed is in confusion. "You called him laddie," John laughed and I giggled as I felt the deep vibrations of Sherlock's baritone laugh through my back as I was sitting more on him now than I was on John as the army doctor tried to warm my feet in his hands. "What was it you even did back there with the sticks?" John asked me when we had managed to get a hold of our laughter.

"Bataireacht," I told him and he snorted looking up at me in surprise.

"Come again?" He asked me and I laughed, it did sound like a rather odd word and in my Irish brogue it was difficult to understand what I was saying.

"Bataireacht. Irish stick fighting. Granddad taught me. Our clan has our own style," I explained to John as I settled back against Sherlock's warm chest and sighed in contentment, careful to keep my bloody arm off of him. I was going to have to have Mycroft dry clean my coat. It seemed like the bleeding had slowed down at least.

"Your clan?" Sarah asked me and I nodded.

"Aye. My father is Chief of the Name," I told her bitterly. He was Lord MacKenna, head of the clan. I didn't inherit any title at least unless my father died, but he was trying to cut me out of as much as he possibly could. "Lord MacKenna."

"Your father is a lord?" John asked me dumbfounded and I hummed and nodded slightly and I snuggled against Sherlock who was surprising staying quiet. In this position I couldn't look at him to see what he was thinking.

"Aye," I said with a note of finality that meant I would take no more questions on the subject. I shifted a little so I could look up at Sherlock and he and I shared a look. It meant many things. I'm sorry that you had to live like that, I know how it feels, but most importantly I'm here now and you never have to be alone again. I'm here now. Nothing else mattered but that. In that one second of time Sherlock and I both made a silent promise. No matter what happened we would never leave each other alone again.


	40. Let The Games Begin

**(A/N) Haha Geronimo! So, I'll keep this very short, excellent last few days, brilliant in fact and you are all FANTASTIC! Made my day with all of your reviews. So now, for the conclusion of the Blind Banker. If I sound a bit like the 11th Doctor I've been watching all my favourite Doctor Who episodes all day which was brilliant. I'm rather excited for the new season. So, next case if the Leviathan with a bonus chapter and then we are onto the Great Game! Yes. So far the Empty Hearse is writing up fantastically. See you all here again on Saturday. All my love sweeties! XOXO Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Eight- Let The Games Begin<strong>

**"****It has always seemed to me that so long as you produce your dramatic effect, accuracy of detail matters little. I have never striven for it and I have made some bad mistakes in consequence. What matter if I hold my readers?" ****  
><strong>**― ****Arthur Conan Doyle**

**Lexi's POV**

John decided that he didn't want to wait until we got back to the flat to redo my stitches and it was Sarah's idea to open the surgery for us so we found ourselves in John's new place of work. I would have much rather done this back at the flat but John was going on about how I could already get an infection and he wanted sterile conditions. That was how I found myself sitting on the bed in John's new patient room as he got everything ready to restitch me. Sarah acted as his nurse and her smiling and attempted at light hearted humour to make me "feel better." What was making me feel better more was my silent conversation with Sherlock and the ice pack he had found for my face. The only difference was this time around I had a general antistatic to take some of the pain away.

"How did Mycroft's doctor do this the first time?" John asked me as he cut away the sleeve of my dress and then the rest of my stitches and pulled them out so he could re do them. My dress was ruined but my coat was salvageable. Bit of club soda and dry cleaning and it would be taken care of. Mycroft told me he had tested the coat's material before he gave it to me to see how stain resistant it was. He already knew about how my line of work could mean I ruined it. I looked over at Sherlock and told him to just go with what I said and he nodded slightly and unnoticeably.

"Um, well, in the flat," I told John and he shook his head and sighed heavily. The disapproving Watson sniff.

"Was he careful to kept things sterile?" John asked me as he threaded the needle now that my arm was numb enough. I looked at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow slightly. Yeah, we kept it sterile.

"Of course, besides I do now how do stitches. I could have done it myself if I needed too," I told John as he started stitching me up. Sarah eyed me as I sit still. I could still feel the pull of the needle of course but even the occasional twinge of pain wasn't nearly as bad as doing them without anything. I wasn't going to tell John that though.

"Wait are you a doctor too?" Sarah asked me in surprise as she handed John a pair of medical scissors and he cut the thread after securing the last stitch.

"Mmm, yes and no. I do have a Doctorate in Medicine but I never practiced," I explained to Sarah as Sherlock helped me hop off of the table as I held the ice pack to my jaw which was throbbing. It was probably going to leave a mark. "Nice job Watson," I complimented John as I looked down at my stitches.

"I should think so," John told me cheekily as he cleaned up everything. I shook my head and let Sherlock help me back into my coat and scarf. "Back to the flat?" John asked us and I nodded.

"Yes," I said, for the first time in my life valuing something as simple as shoes. I was surprised when we all started walking out and Sherlock suddenly bent down and lifted me up into his arms. I squeaked in surprise and flailed around for a second before I was able to right myself. I wrapped my arms around Sherlock's neck slightly as he looked down at me and I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"You don't need to step on something and get tetanus," Sherlock told me as he carried me out of the surgery and Sarah locked the doors behind us as John stepped up to the curbing to hail us a cab. I huffed but rested my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes and just listening to the inhale and exhale of his breath. He smelt very Sherlock, like chemicals and tea and London rain. I buried my cold nose into his shoulder, hiding my face in his collarbone. He shivered slightly and I grumbled an apology, knowing my skin was like ice. A cab finally slowed and pulled up to the curbing and Sherlock got in first before I climbed in, sitting on his lap again with John in the middle where I usually sat and Sarah in John's typical seat. John swore when he felt how cold my feet were and he rubbed them to try and bring some warmth back into them.

"How exactly did you lose your shoes again?" John asked me as I curled up against Sherlock, stealing some of his body heat as I hid under his coat. I didn't care about personal space right now. I was cold and that was only going to make me more ill. He didn't seem to mind as he rubbed my back to try and warm me up.

"She used them as projectiles," Sherlock muttered to John sounding slightly amused as I tucked my feet into the small spot between Sherlock and John's legs and sighed in contentment at the warmth. We arrived at Baker Street and everyone climbed out of the car. John reached in and paid the cab as I got out only for Sherlock to pick me up again.

"I think I can walk now," I told him raising an eyebrow. It was one thing when we were waiting for a cab and at the surgery but I doubted Mrs. Hudson would have any rusty nails lying about Baker Street.

"Just until we get inside," Sherlock told me as John unlocked the door to 221B. As soon as we crossed the threshold he gingerly set me down on his feet and I followed him over to the stairs, ascending them with him, John and Sarah following us up to the living room of the flat. As soon as we entered the living room Sherlock immediately started at the pictures over the fireplace as he took off his gloves and coat before helping me out of mine and throwing them over one of the crates.

"They'll be back in China by tomorrow," John said as I followed Sherlock's path through the crates.

"No, they won't leave without what they came for. We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous," Sherlock said as he walked closer to the photos, staring at them intently. John also gazed at the pictures while Sarah hovered in the background.

"Sherlock's right. They wouldn't leave without it. It's hard enough getting into London from China. They would have needed help which means they probably struck a deal with another party, maybe a party interested in what they are trying to recover. They killed Van Coon and Lukis so that means they are serious about trying to get it back. They wouldn't just leave off the search now, not if it was especially valuable either," I told John as Sherlock ran his fingers over the main picture of the painted brick wall.

"Somewhere in this message it must tell us," Sherlock said before the three of us fell silent. Somewhere in the message it should tell us what they were looking for, but where? I had seen marks like this before which meant that the Black Lotus had been dealing in London for a while. I had never gotten close to cracking the cipher though. I knew they were Suzhou numbers and I know it was a book code now because we figured out that they came in pairs but unless we could find the book that was being used the cipher was useless.

"Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it," Sarah said suddenly and I hummed a little which meant by all means as I stepped closer to the pictures and looked at them more closely.

"No, no, you don't have to go...," John said as Sherlock simultaneously said, "Yes, it would be better to study if you left now." John looked round at Sherlock as Sherlock looked round pointedly at Sarah. John threw a dark look at him, "... does she?" he asked him before he turned back to Sarah. "You can stay," He told her and I sighed. "He's kidding. Please stay if you'd like. Lexi, tell her," John said and Sarah looked nervously towards Sherlock as I turned around but he already had his back turned to the photographs.

"If you'd like," I told Sarah and she smile awkwardly at me as I turned to the pictures again. I knew this wasn't about me, but I just fought of a warrior at a Chinese circus. I would have thought John would have realized just how serious this case was and stop worrying about if Sarah might shag him later. This case wasn't going to solve itself and Sarah was starting to piss me off.

"Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?" Sarah suddenly asked us in what I'm sure she thought was an attempt to act friendly. How could she be hungry again? I mean granted I was slightly hungry, but I had been the one kicking arse.

"Ooh, God," Sherlock said sighing and closing his eyes in exasperation. I reached across to him and touched his arm and he opened his eyes and looked across at me. _'Why must I indulge in the whims of the cerebrally challenged? Have I not suffered enough?' _Sherlock asked me and I sighed, stepping closer to him and putting my head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

_'__I know. Just a bit longer. For John,'_ I told him comfortingly and he sighed again as John told Sarah to make herself comfortable while he went to the kitchen to get some snacks. Sherlock huffed, turning his face into my hair for a second and taking a deep breath before we broke apart and he went and sat at the dining table which was covered with photos, notes, and drawings of various pictograms. I sat down next to him, pulling up another chair and I picked up my sketch book and started drawing out the other messages I had seen before. I heard John open the fridge in the kitchen before he sighed loudly. Sherlock rummaged through the papers on the dining table as Sarah stood nearby us. I flicked my eyes up to her and found her looking at all the picture stuck to the mirror with interest.

"So this is what you do, you two and John. You solve puzzles for a living," Sarah said and I looked up at Sherlock and we both rolled are eyes in exasperation. Solved puzzles for a living? That made us sound no better than the Sunday morning crossword solvers. Cases were not the same things as puzzles. Puzzles were easy to solve, cases on the other hand were intricate webs, delicate information.

"Consulting detectives," We told Sarah tetchily in unison without looking around.

"Oh," Sarah said as I heard John searching through cupboards. What was he looking for? He had just gone shopping. Surely he bought something he could feed Sarah. Oh wait, I lived with two men. I heard him exclaim a loud "OH!" and I sighed as Sarah walked over to Sherlock and me and looked over our shoulders. She pointed to the paper he was looking at and then at what I was sketching. "What are these squiggles?" Sarah asked us and Sherlock looked up at me, his face set as if he was trying very hard not to kill her.

"Juste un peu plus," I reminded Sherlock in French and he sighed, calming himself. (Just a little longer.) I knew he wanted to work and he saw Sarah as a distraction. It probably didn't help that she had run off either. He might have had slightly more respect for her if she stayed behind to help us.

"They're numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect," Sherlock told her without looking round at her. I looked up at Sarah and tried to explain so that maybe she would leave off asking him questions. I could only keep Sherlock from having an outburst for so long.

"There Suzhou numerals or huama, like Sherlock said they're an ancient Chinese dialect. They're mostly only used for displaying prices in Chinese markets or on traditional handwritten invoices," I told Sarah and she nodded before shaking her head slightly.

"Oh, right! Yeah, well, of course I should have known that," Sarah said as I heard soft voices in the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson and John by the sound of it. I leaned back slightly and saw I was right. Mrs. Hudson was more like a mother to us than a landlady. Sarah suddenly leaned forward and picked up the photograph of the brick wall which Dimmock had brought back to us in the seal evidence bag. Sherlock glared at her in utter fury and turned his head away, teeth bared. I quickly reached out under the table and put a hand on his knee, squeezing it tightly. "So these numbers – it's a cipher," Sarah said oblivious to his rage.

"Exactly," Sherlock told her tightly. I could see he was attempting to calm down for me.

"And each pair of numbers is a word," Sarah stated and Sherlock lifted his head up slowly as I snapped mine around to her.

"How did you know that?" Sherlock demanded of her as I raised an eyebrow. Book code, surely she wouldn't know what it was from just a picture, unless somehow she knew it. But that would be crazy unless everyone we kept meeting worked for the Tong.

"Well, two words have already been translated, here," Sarah told us as she put the picture down on the desk and pointed to it. Sherlock snatched yp the photo and stared at it as I looked over his shoulder.

"John," I called, turning my head back towards to kitchen as John responded with and "Mmm?" as he looked round from the kitchen table.

"John, look at this," Sherlock said as we both stood up. Sherlock ripped the photo out of the evidence bag as John came out of the kitchen. "Soo Lin at the museum – she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it!" Sherlock said as I saw that a word had been written across each of the first two sets of symbols on the photograph in fine pen. ""NINE" "MILL"," Sherlock read aloud, showing it to me.

"Does that mean 'millions'?" John asked us as he squinted at the picture. Of course. When I got up to go to the door to check on Sherlock and John she had moved towards her desk. It was because she had started to translate the cipher for us. It's the only reason she came out of her hiding palace.

"Nine million quid. For what?" Sherlock asked me thoughtfully as he turned and went over to where he dumped his coat and scarf. "We need to know the end of this sentence."

"Where are you going?" John asked him as he pulled on his coat and I moved towards him, helping him put it on.

"To the museum; to the restoration room," Sherlock said grimacing at me. "Oh, we must have been staring right at it!" He told me in exasperation and I nodded.

"At-at what?" John stammered in confusion.

"The book, John. The book – the key to cracking the cipher!" Sherlock told him as he brandished the photo at John. "Soo Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk," Sherlock said before he turned to me. I knew what he was going to say before it even left his mouth.

"I know. Go. Try to be careful though. I don't think I can save you if you are clear across the city," I told Sherlock smirking slightly and I froze when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed the top of my head before turning quickly and hurrying out the door. "I want you home before midnight mister!" I called back to him and I heard him chuckle as I smiled fondly at the empty doorway before turning back to where Sarah and John were staring at me. "I think I'll go and take a shower," I told John and he nodded as I made for my room.

"Be careful for your stitches," John called after me and I grunted to let him know I had heard him as I went back to my room to give Sarah and John some privacy. I grabbed a pair of Sherlock's sweatpants to go with my off the shoulder shirt that said 'Très Bon' on it and had an image of the Eifel Tower in the background. I took my stuff to the bathroom and set about trying to make myself presentable as I was covered in blood and a bit pale. I wasn't worried about Sherlock in fact, going out would be good for him. I was more worried about myself. There was only so much I could take two. I deserved a bit of a quite night in with a good book and for John I would attempt to get along with Sarah.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock ran down the stairs in a slight state of shock as he registered the fact that he had kissed Lexi before leaving the flat. What would possess him to do something like that? It was for this reason that Sherlock burst out of the door of 221B, running towards the curb to hail a passing black cab. "Taxi!" He shouted as he swept past a man and a woman, tourist obviously as they were bent over a guidebook. He brushed past them hard enough to break the man's hold on the book, which fell to the ground. The man yelled back at him indignantly in German.

"Hey, du! Siehst du nicht wo du hingehst? [Hey, you! Why don't you look where you're going?]" Sherlock turned back and picked up the book, handing it back to the man.

"Entschuldigen Sie, bitte. [Forgive me, please,]" Sherlock apologized sincerely. Ah, he needed to focus and get Lexi out of his head. Not like that was easy to do what with the fact that she kept getting hurt constantly.

"Ja, danke! [Yeah, thanks!]" The tourist said snarkily, snatching the book back. He turned away, putting his arm around his wife and still bitching in a way that would have already had Lexi yelling right back at him in German. "Und dann sagen die, dass die Engländer höflich sind! [And they say the English are polite!]"

Sherlock turned and raised his arm to the cab again but it had already driven past. He grunted in exasperation and walked down the road, looking over his shoulder to check traffic coming from behind him. After a few yards, he stopped and turned back again, grunting angrily a second time as no cabs magically materialised for him. He looked up and down the road and he saw a Chinese couple, possibly father and daughter, standing at the corner over the road and consulting an A-Z as they too tried to work out their route. Sherlock's eyes narrowed, and he flashed back in his mind to walking across Lukis' living room and looking at a pile of books and papers on a table. The London A-Z was the top book on the pile. He flashed back further into the past and remembered seeing a pile of books in Van Coon's living room. The third book down on the pile was the London A-Z. Then he remembered turning around from the crates in his own living room and staring at his bookcase. London A-Z it was one of the books Lexi had brought with her when she moved in. She had told him that she bought it when she first moved to London so that she wouldn't get lost in the city.

"A book that everybody would own," Sherlock said to himself as his memories moved on to him and Lexi when Lexi was yelling at him for scaring Soo Lin before she handed her the teapot in the restoration room. On the table was a London A-Z. Sherlock's mouth opened in startled realization and he broke into a run, chasing back towards the German couple. "Please, wait! Bitte! [Please!]" H shouted to them and the tourist turned back and frowned in confusion as he hurried toward them.

"Was wollt er? Was will er? [Translates roughly to What did he want? What does he want?]" The man asked his wife as Sherlock ran up to them and snatched the A-Z from the man's hands and turned away, looking down at the book.

"Hey, du! Was macht du? [Hey, you! What are you doing?]" The man shouted at him angrily and Sherlock turned back to him momentarily.

"Minute! [Wait a minute!]" Sherlock shouted back to him.

"Gib mir doch mein Buch zurück! [Give me my book back!]" The man demanded but Sherlock ignored him and turned his back on the couple again and opened the book. The man waved his hand in exasperation at Sherlock before he put his arm around his wife and they walked away, giving up their book to the crazy English man.

**John's POV**

John heard Lexi's bedroom door open and then close and then the bathroom door open and close before the shower turned on. Sarah and John had relocated to the kitchen and John was seated at the side table and Sarah was standing nearby. How had his date turned into this? Sherlock had almost gotten killed by an angry Chinese man and Lexi had stepped into save him and gotten hurt herself. Her jaw was already starting to bruise. It didn't matter how good she could fight with the sticks, John still felt guilty that she had to have been the one to step in and save him and Sherlock. He was an ex-soldier for God's sakes. How was it that an Irish girl that weighted hardly anything could do more damage than he could? It was good that she could handle herself but the mere fact that she had to keep defending herself made John feel guilty. Lexi was like a sister to him. He wanted to protect her and so far he hadn't done a real good job of it. Then there came the fact that she had hid the fact she was injured from him. He wasn't going to lie, it hurt that she hadn't told him and let Mycroft of all people take care of her. He understood that Lexi and Mycroft were closer than Sherlock and Mycroft were, but John still didn't exactly trust him. Well, the worst that could have happened on his date with Sarah already happened. It could only go up from here.

"Yeah! No, absolutely. I mean, well, a quiet night in's just-just what the doctor ordered," Sarah said as she leaned her hand on the side table and John laughed softly at her joke. "Er, I mean, I'd love to go out of an evening and wrestle a few Chinese gangsters, you know, generally, but a girl can get too much," She said and John nodded in agreement

"No, okay," John said and they smiled at each other before Sarah looked away laughing in embarrassment. A part of John's brain was telling him that she really didn't fight any Chinese gangsters. In fact it couldn't really qualify that he or Sherlock had either. Lexi had done all of the fighting. He had distinctly heard Lexi yell, "My Sherlock" at the warrior before she threw here first heel. She was, well, she was rather something. "Hmm. Um, shall we get a takeaway?" John asked Sarah remembering that she said she was hungry. Lexi could use some food too now that John thought about it. No doubt Sherlock hadn't fed her before dragging her off to crash his date, but then she had been drinking unless that was because she was injured. He just didn't know anymore. Besides, Sherlock didn't seem the type to remember that normal people ate.

"Yeah!" Sarah told him and John nodded and got up to find a menu. He searched in the drawer, looking for the menu to the takeaway place that Lexi liked. Maybe some of her favourite sweet and sour chicken would make her feel better. Maybe some soup too, that would be good for her cold. Speaking of cold, walking barefooted around London was going to do nothing to help her get better, in fact, it was probably going to set her back. "Do you think Lexi would join us?" Sarah asked him as John turned back with the takeaway menu and handed it to her.

"Er," John said not knowing what to say. He wanted to be alone with Sarah but he also didn't want to leave Lexi by herself in case something suddenly happened to her. She already had a head injury and then she had lost blood. "If you ask her she might," John said brightly. There good answer. It was open ended. He wasn't saying no but he wasn't saying yes. He was leaving it up to her.

"I'll go ask her," Sarah decided handing the menu back to John. "Anything you want to get," She told him before she headed back towards the bathroom and John pulled out his mobile and ordered their usual order. Sarah returned a minute later with a smile on her face. "She said she'll join us after her shower," Sarah told him as she took his now vacated seat at the side table. That was good, Lexi was trying to get along with Sarah. This was going to be a long night.

**Sherlock's POV**

On the street, Sherlock was flicking through the pages of the A-Z. "Page fifteen, entry one. Page fifteen, entry one...," He muttered to himself as he turned to the correct page and looked at the first entry on the index page. It read "Deadmans Lane NW9". Sherlock lifted his head in surprise. "Dead man. You were threatening to kill them," Sherlock said as he flashed back to the message that was sprayed across Sir William's office, across the library shelf, and the statue in the museum. In every image he saw Lexi standing next to him. "It's the first cipher," Sherlock murmured as he took the photograph of the message sprayed on the brick wall out of his coat pocket and unfolded it. With the first two words already translated, he looked at the third pair of symbols where Lexi's translation of the numbers was written in black marker, her elegant script the first thing he noticed, and then he started flicking to the correct page in the book. "Thirty-seven, nine; thirty-seven, nine...," Sherlock said as he found the appropriate entry on the page which read "Fore St EC2". Sherlock got out a pen from his coat and wrote "FOR" over the relevant symbols on the photo. "Nine mill ... for..." They were finally getting somewhere.

**John's POV**

Sarah took her jacket off as John picked up the jug of punch Mrs. Hudson had brought up to him and he filled three glasses for the lot of them as the shower cut off. Good, he was just about to see if Lexi needed a hand with anything since she had been in the shower for a rather long time. Not that John wanted to be the one to have to help her and he wasn't sure how she would feel accepting Sarah's help since they had only just met. John looked up when someone suddenly knocked on the front door downstairs.

"Ooh, blimey, that was quick. I'll just pop down," John said as he handed her one of the glasses and he walked towards the kitchen door.

"Do you want me to lay the table?" Sarah asked John and John turned back and looked round at the kitchen table which was covered with Sherlock and Lexi's paperwork and experiments.

"Um, eat off trays?" John asked Sarah and she nodded quickly having come to the same conclusion he had.

"Yeah," She told him and John gave a yeah of agreement before he went to the door and started down the stairs. It was best not to touch any of Sherlock and Lexi's experiments. You never knew what body parts you might find under the mess and something that looked suspiciously like eyeballs had already taken up residence on the top shelf of their fridge.

**Sherlock's POV**

On the street, Sherlock was still translating the symbols. "Sixty, thirty-five," Sherlock said after consulting Lexi's translation on the photograph. On the relevant page, the appropriate entry read "Jade Cl. E16". "Jade," Sherlock said aloud as he wrote on the photograph as he said the word again. "Jade."

**John's POV**

John opened the front door and smiled at the man standing on the doorstep, who was wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up. "Sorry to keep you," John said as he rummaged in his trouser pocket for his wallet. "How much d'you want?"

"Do you have it?" The man asked him and John looked around blankly.

"What?" John asked him, thinking he hadn't heard him right.

"Do you have the treasure?" The man asked him again and John shook his head, suddenly getting a bad feeling.

"I don't understand," John said before the man suddenly coshed him on the left side of the head with a pistol. John fell to the floor, the last thought before he passed out was dear God don't let something happened to Lexi or Sarah.

**(A/N Your author would like to add here that she is a little confused as to how the world's only consulting detective who was standing on Baker Street could completely miss John, Lexi, and Sarah getting carried away by Chinese people. Also, if you actually translate the Suzhou numerals, he wasn't evening using the proper translation to decipher the cipher. I'd like to think they had a script change and forgot to go back and fix the pictures. Surely they wouldn't do the idiotic thing of getting the script all wrong even though they called it Hangzhou numerals instead of Suzhou. Anyway, enough of my ranting. On to more badass Lexi.)**

**Lexi's POV**

I turned off the hair drier and set it down on the sink before I quickly pulled my hair up into a high pony tail. Suddenly I heard the sound of someone hurriedly climbing up the stairs before I heard Sarah's voice saying something to John. I frowned when that was followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I didn't hear anything next except for light footsteps in the kitchen. Too light footsteps for John or Sarah and they definitely weren't Sherlock's. Crap. I picked up my hair drier. This time round it would have to work as a weapon against an intruder in the flat. I opened the door cautiously before deciding to go for the element of surprise and just rush out. Stupid me, I found a man lifting Sarah's arms up as he started to drag her off, another man spray painting the same symbols, the threat, onto our windows.

"Oi!" I yelled and they turned to look at me. "On principal I don't let people vandalize my flat," I told them before the guy dragging Sarah dropped her and the other man finished off spraying the numerals and both of them rushed towards me. I blocked the first blow, dropping the hair drier and it went skidding under the counter on the floor as I came up and got knocked in the head by the second guy. I cursed in Russian before I brought my leg up and kicked the second guy sending him flying into the wall. I managed to dart around the other guy, getting the kitchen table in between the two of us. They made to come at me and I grabbed up a beaker full of chemicals on the kitchen table. "Ah, ah Hydrochloric acid. Nasty stuff," I said shaking my hand threateningly. Suddenly one of them pulled a gun out and pointed it at me. Unlike Jeff's gun this one was actually real. "I see, that's how it's going to be," I said, setting the acid down carefully on the table and holding my hands up as one of the men came around the table and pulled my hands roughly behind my back and started pushing me forward. I should have been expecting it after the day I had had but somehow I didn't and I had only a second to say "Fuck" before the man with the gun brought it down against my head and I passed out.

**Sherlock's POV**

On the street, Sherlock turned to the page for the final word. Finding the correct entry, he wrote "TRAMWAY" onto the photograph and then read the whole message aloud. "NINE MILL FOR JADE PIN DRAGON DEN BLACK...," Sherlock said, raising his head and staring ahead of him. "...TRAMWAY."

That was it! That was the cipher, he had finally deciphered it. Lexi would be thrilled. With that thought it mind Sherlock rushed back down the street to the flat, excited to share what he had learnt with the Irish detective. He opened the door, finding it unlocked. Odd that, normally it was locked at this time of night. Unless John unlocked it but why would he do that?

"Lexi! John! I've got it!" Sherlock shouted as he ran in through the kitchen door. The first thing he noticed was that the overhead suspended neon light was swaying gently back and forth, and the beaker of Hydrochloric acid had been moved. Three trays were on the table, each containing a clean plate, cutlery and a glass of punch. Sherlock ran into the living room brandishing the A-Z. "The cipher! The book! It's the London A to Z that they're using..." Sherlock said trailing off before he could finish the last word, staring in shock as he saw that yellow paint had been sprayed across the living room windows.

On the left-hand window was the sort-of upside down eight with an almost horizontal line across it. On the right-hand window was the single almost horizontal slash. Together they spelt out "DEAD MAN". There was no sign of John or Sarah and after listening for a moment, no sign of Lexi either. Sherlock stared at the paint in horror for a moment before darting back to Lexi's room and throwing open the door to find it empty. The light in the bathroom was still on though and the shower had recently been used. Sherlock followed the path from the bathroom to the kitchen and looked around, spotting the hair drier under the kitchen counter. Lexi had fought back against the intruder. The paint chips on the floor by the wall suggested that someone had slammed into it. Whether it was Lexi or the intruder he couldn't be sure. There had been more than one intruder though. That was why she had failed to protect herself. Black tramway. That was where their hideout was. Sherlock straightened up and walked towards the stairs stormily. He was going to save Lexi and John and if anyone had hurt them… if they dared to lay a single hand on them, they would have him to answer to. It was in that instant, that moment of shear panic Sherlock felt at finding Lexi gone, the girl who had tried to save his life by throwing a shoe at an assassin, that Sherlock Holmes realized that he was no longer falling for her but loved Lexi MacKenna.

**John's POV**

John regained consciousness and found himself sitting on a chair somewhere dark. A fire was burning in a dustbin behind him and he could feel the heat of it. He slowly raised his head, wincing in pain as he moved his jaw which was slightly sore. He could feel a bleeding cut on his left temple. The last thing he could remember was getting hit in the head by some guy at the front door. As he grimaced in pain, the voice of the Opera Singer came out of the dim tunnel in front of him.

""A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket,"" The woman said and John winced again as he turned his head to the left and saw Sarah sitting on another chair with a gag in her mouth. She looked round to him, terrified. He heard another sound to his right and he turned to find that Lexi was sitting on the other side of him and she was just starting to wake up. She had a long cut against her forehead and like his it was bleeding. Ahead of them was the Chinese woman who he saw photographing him and who was watching him, Sherlock, and Lexi on Hungerford Bridge. Despite the darkness she was still wearing her dark sunglasses. She walked towards him and John finally realized that they were in an abandoned tunnel. There were two Chinese men standing behind the approaching woman, and a couple of other fires were burning to illuminate the area. A few feet ahead of where John, Lexi, and Sarah were tied to their chairs by their hands and feet was a large object covered with cloth. The woman raised her sunglasses to the top of her head and looked down at John. "Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes."

John looked at her, startled. "I ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes," John said in confusion as Lexi groaned beside him. Why would they think he was Sherlock Holmes?

"Forgive me if I do not take your word for it," The Opera Singer said smiling humourlessly. She reached down and pulled his jacket open, rummaging in his inside pocket.

"Ow. Ow," John panted as she forcefully took out his wallet and opened it taking something out.

"Debit card, name of S. Holmes," She said and John flashed back to when Sherlock was sitting in the living room with Lexi after he returned without the shopping. He had told him to take his card.

"Yes; that's not actually mine. He lent that to me," John said groggily as the sound of Lexi coughing reached his ears. He looked over at her and saw she was blinking her eyes open and she winced and in took a sharp breath, obviously feeling her injuries.

"A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes," The Opera Singer continued as she looked through his wallet and John remembered taking the cheque from Sebastian.

"Yeah, he gave me that to look after," John told her taking a deep breath and letting it out. He know just how bad this looked for him.

"Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes," The woman continued smugly and John nodded as Lexi shuffled in her chair beside him but didn't say anything.

"Yes, okay… I realise what this looks like, but I'm not him," John told her trying to convince her that he wasn't Sherlock. He turned to Lexi and saw her staring back at him. Why wasn't she saying anything? He saw her eyes doing that thing like she was observing everything.

"We heard it from your own mouth," The Opera Singer told him and John frowned in confusion as Lexi raised one eyebrow.

"What?" John asked her blinking up at her as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

""I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone ..."" The Opera Singer said and John grimaced as he remembered what he said when he shouted through the letterbox before Lexi disappeared, "... because no-one else can compete with my MASSIVE INTELLECT!"

John stared ahead of himself in disbelief. "Did I really say that?" He asked her and he chuckled weakly then lowered his head in pain. "I s'ppose there's no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression," John said but before he could finish the sentence, the woman raised a small pistol and pointed it at his head. John cringed away from it, blowing out a panicked breath. The woman grinned.

"I'll have to ask that you refrain from pointing a gun at him though I know that the temptation is hard to resist," Lexi finally said and the woman looked over at her in interest as John turned slightly and saw Lexi just staring straight at her looking rather calm. "General Shan I presume," Lexi said raising one eyebrow and John turned back to the woman and stared up at her.

"You're ... you're Shan," John said in disbelief and the woman turned back to him and stared down at him.

"Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?" Shan asked and John paled that she knew who Lexi was. She lifted her other hand and cocked the pistol. John cringed back, turning his head away and whispered, "Don't, don't," as he struggled against his bonds. Shan looked down at him and her expression became ominous. John breathed out heavily as her finger tightened on the trigger. John stared into the barrel of the gun, his face full of terror as she pulled the trigger all the way. The gun clicked and John grunted in shock, and Shan smiled smugly. "It tells you that they're not really trying," Shan said and John breathed heavily trying to get control of himself as he looked over at Lexi and for once he could read her expression like Sherlock often did. _'Everything is alright, I'm here.' _John had gone into battle, he had fought beside many good soldiers but there was no one he would rather have by his side than Lexi MacKenna.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock hurried over to the bookcase in a state of panic. "Tramway," He muttered to himself, losing control of his usual razor-sharp brain in his fear for his friends. He started at the books on the shelf for a few long moments as he tried to find what he needed. "Oh, Christ," He said faintly, under his breath as he finally found and pulled out a folding map of London that Lexi had recently been studying. He quickly turned back to the dining table and unfolded the map, spreading it out. He ran his finger over it until he stabbed it down, finally finding what he was looking for. "There," He said in triumph before he turned and headed out of the door. Lexi, he was coming for her and John.

**Lexi's POV**

Shan slid a clip into the pistol and then cocked it again before pointing it at John's head a second time. John cringed away from it as I racked my brain for a way to help him. My bonds were right tight which probably was because they were worried about me getting out. I had already proven that I was a little bit more of a force to reckon with.

"Not blank bullets now," Shan said as I calculated what I could do.

"Okay," John said breathily and I could hear the terror in his voice.

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, Ms MacKenna, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive," Shan said as she looked at John sternly before looking back at me and rounding the gun on me. Hello, not exactly my choice for first introductions. "Do you have it?" She asked me and I raised an eyebrow at here.

"Do I have what because that isn't really specific enough for me? I have a lot of things," I asked her and I heard John groan. He should be happy I was biding us time.

"The treasure," Shan told me irritably and I nodded my head before shaking it.

"Yeah, no I don't know what you're talking about," I told her shaking my head again and she turned away from me.

"I would prefer to make certain," She told me as she looked at her men one of whom pulled the cover off the large object to reveal the crossbow which was used at the circus. An arrow was already loaded in it. I looked across to John who stared at it and sighed deeply as Shan turned back to him. "Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life...," Shan said and John turned and stared at Sarah before realizing that Shan wasn't looking at her and was looking at me instead. "...information," Shan finished with a smile as John turned back to me. The two men walked over and picked up my chair and I gave a loud "OI!" as I was almost tipped sideways as they carried me towards the crossbow.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," John told me in anguish under his breath as the men set my chair down on the other side of the crossbow, putting me facing the arrow tip and directly in line with it. I stared at it, passively. It was no use struggling against bonds that wouldn't come undone. I needed to think. I closed my eyes and blocked out all other senses except for sound.

"Where's the hairpin?" I heard Shan demand John. Given the angle of the crossbow and where my chair was sitting a direct hit was the certain. If I could move slightly I could miss the arrow altogether, but it would most likely hit John in that position.

"What?" John asked her as I heard him tugging at his own bonds in spite of the pistol that was no doubt still aimed at him. I frowned. Hairpin, ah, that was what Van Coon or Lukis stole. Small enough to knick, but too valuable to go unnoticed when it went missing.

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching with Ms. MacKenna," Shan said and I nodded slightly even though they weren't paying attention to me. They might be wrong in thinking that John was Sherlock but at least they hadn't confused me with Sarah.

"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. We haven't found whatever it is you're looking for," John tried again and I sighed. Yes, they were going to buy that he wasn't Sherlock. At this point I doubted that they really cared.

"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan said loudly and I rolled my eyes.

"No, please. Please," John shouted desperately and I really wished I could look round at him and convey that everything was going to be okay. For once, I wasn't entirely helpless and number two I wasn't dying here. After my little run in with the serial killer I let my friend Joanie train me for any situation, even if I was tied up. Joanie had a very specific skill set that came in very useful in my line of work. My feet were tied, but I had been slowly working on loosening the bonds.

"Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely," Shan said as she walked towards me. Shan smiled as she took out a knife and reached up to the sandbag suspended over a pulley hanging from the ceiling. She stabbed the knife into the bag and sand began to pour out as I heard Sarah begin to whimper and cry behind me. John sighed out an appalled breath but I only snorted as Shan smiled again and looked around at her "audience." "Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act.

"Please!" John pleaded as Shan walked over to me and placed a black origami lotus flower in my lap.

"You've seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends," Shan told me with a sneer as I stared back at her, glaring. I knew she wanted me to beg, to plead for mercy, but I wasn't going to give her what she wanted.

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John shouted frantically and Shan straightened up and looked at him.

"I don't believe you," She spat at him and I grinned as another voice suddenly came echoing through the dark tunnel.

"You should, you know," Sherlock said and Shan spun around as a familiar silhouette appeared at the far end of the tunnel. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him," Sherlock continued as Shan raised her pistol, cocked it again, and aimed it towards him. He immediately dodged to the side of the tunnel, disappearing into the shadows. One of Shan's thugs started to hurry towards the end of the tunnel. John sighed out a half-relieved, half-exasperated breath as he spoke from the darkness. "How would you describe me, John, Lexi? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" He said, clicking the 'c; on the last word.

"Late?" John asked him tetchily as I laughed and looked down the tunnel.

"I believe exactly on time is how I would describe you," I shouted down the tunnel and I heard Sherlock's chuckle bounce back to me and I grinned. There was one other plan I had from the beginning and that involved Sherlock. There were two things I would always be sure of, I stood with John Watson and I believed in Sherlock Holmes.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second," Sherlock called from the darkness as Shan still aimed her pistol towards the shadows.

"Well?" Shan asked him as I heard the sound of metal being picked up.

"Well...," Sherlock said as one of the thugs who had moved me reached a large storage container standing at the side of the tunnel. Sherlock suddenly ran out from behind it and thwacked the man across the stomach with a metal pipe. The man grunted and collapsed to the ground before Sherlock immediately ducked back into the shadows. "...the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you,' ASherlock told her rapid fire. He burst out of the darkness and ran to the nearby burning dustbin, kicking it over. I flicnhed at the loud crash and Shan's eyes widened as she realises that it was now even more impossible to see that area of the tunnel. I looked back and saw John peering into the darkness, trying to see how close Sherlock was. The consulting detective suddenly reappeared just behind me and he squatted down behind me, starting to untie my bonds. I grinned at him as my green eye met his nebula blue. I looked over his head as I spotted something but before I could tell him to look out the other man – who turned out to be Liang, Soo Lin's brother – rand over to him and looped a long red scarf around his throat a couple of times. Sherlock cried out and stood up, tugging at the part of the scarf around his neck as Liang pulled it tight. As they struggled, I looked at them for a moment and then I turned back to stare at the arrowhead pointed directly at me. I lifted my gaze to the sandbag, which was just passing the counterbalanced weight on its way down towards the metal cup on the crossbow.

Behind me, Sherlock had shaken off Liang for a moment and again crouched behind me and started working on my bonds. "Don't bloody worry about me!" I shouted back at him as Liang hurried forward and swung another loop of the scarf around Sherlock's neck and again started pulling him away.

As the men continue to struggle, John seemed to realise that Sherlock wasn't going to get free in time. Not that I was complaining. I just had to figure out another way out of this. John struggled to stand, which was almost impossible with his hands tied in front of him and attached tightly to the underside of the chair, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. Nevertheless he managed to stumble forward a couple of paces, half-carrying and half-dragging his chair with him, before he lost his balance and fell onto his side.

"John! Are you alright?" I asked him as he groaned and I looked back to see Liang swinging yet another loop of the scarf around Sherlock's neck. I quickly gazed up at the descending metal ball as the men behind me continue to struggle and John thrashed on the floor. I closed my eyes and started taking deep breaths as I worked on getting my feet free as John flailed and groaned with the effort as he managed to squirm around on the floor but he was nowhere near being able to do anything with his feet bound. I concentrated not at the arrow being pointed at me before getting free, my feet finally broke free of their bonds and I snapped my eyes opened listening to the sound of Sherlock struggling to my left and kicking upwards and pushing the crossbow up. It shifted position, twisting slightly to the left just as the ball connected with the cup. The arrow fired and soared across the tunnel before I heard a sickening sound as it connected with flesh. "Sherlock!?" I asked hoping that my attempt to help him and save myself at the same time hadn't resulted in me hurting him or worse. I looked over my shoulder to find the arrow embedded in Liang's stomach. He grunted then straightened up, his face full of shock. He groaned breathily for a moment, the slowly toppled to the floor.

Gasping for breath, Sherlock stood up and looked around. In the distance I could hear the running footsteps of General Shan leaving the building. He looked in the direction of the sound as if considering following, but Sarah's anguished muffled sobs which I finally registered distracted him and he unlooped the red scarf from around his neck and then dropped to his knees beside her.

"It's all right," Sherlock told her soothingly as John groaned on the floor and struggled to get onto his elbows. Sherlock untied Sarah's gag and took it from her mouth as I settled back into my chair and took deep breaths. Once again I found myself in the cold without bloody shoes on. "You're gonna be all right. It's over now. It's over," Sherlock told her stroking his hands comfortingly down her arms before he bent down to untie the ropes. She began to sob as John looked up at her from the floor and he smiled wearily.

"Don't worry. Next date won't be like this," John told her and she continued to sob as Sherlock straightened up and stood behind her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He looked over at me next and moved towards me but I shook my head quickly.

"Help John up first," I told him and he nodded before grinning as he looked down at John and picked his chair up from off of the ground, righting him. He unbound his hands and ankles as Sarah continued to sob. She was starting to severely piss me off now. The only thing that happened to her was that she was kidnapped and tied up. No one pointed a gun at her or put her in front of a deadly cross bow. She was just along for the ride because she was there and a witness.

"You took your bloody time," John said tetchily and I sighed heavily.

"Well, it's not like he knew where we were," I told John as he got up as soon as he was free and hurried over to Sarah, kneeling beside her and cupping her face in his hand as he looked her over before he tried to comfort her. Sherlock moved over to me and knelt behind me, starting to undo my hands. "Hello Lock. We really have to stop meeting like this," I said and Sherlock grinned at me as my hands came free. I brought them in front of me and rubbed my wrists before springing up from my chair and laughing. "Barefooted again. They were very rude, wouldn't even let me grab my coat," I joked and Sherlock shook his head before he bent down and picked me up, tucking me under his coat so I was pressed up against his warm body. I sighed in contentment as I tucked my feet under it.

"I've already called Dimmock, he should be arriving soon," Sherlock told me before he looked back to John. "John, we should go," He said before he started off down the tunnel with me, coming back the way he had come in. "Are you alright?" Sherlock asked me as we walked ahead of John and a still crying Sarah.

"Peachy," I told him with a grin. He shook his head at me as we appeared outside of the tunnel which I realized was a tramway. We heard the loud sirens and we didn't have to wait long before Dimmock showed up along with an ambulance.

Everyone got out and two EMT'S rushed out of the ambulance towards Sherlock and I as John and Sarah came out of the tramway behind us. Sherlock refused to hand me over to them and he carried me over to the back of the ambulance and sat me down beside Sarah as another EMT wrapped a shock blanket over her shoulders. I didn't protest as they wrapped one around mine as well, it was warm. I sat still and let them clean my cut up and put some butterfly sutures over it. I now had a matching set, one on either side of my head. They checked out my jaw as well which was very bruised by now and they gave me an ice back for it before checking me for a concussion. Thankfully I didn't have one and neither did John. Sherlock stood near me talking with Dimmock and explaining everything that happened and telling him about the cipher. I listened to him with interest, smiling fondly at how brilliant he was at finding out how to decipher the cipher. He walked back over to me when he was done and I shook my head, wrinkling my nose and grimacing as I lifted up a bit of the orange shock blanket.

"What is with them and shock blankets? I'm not in shock," I asked Sherlock as I shrugged my blanket off, ignoring John's protest as I hopped off the back of the ambulance. I raised my hand to the EMT that rushed over and I fixed him with a look. "Back off buddy. I'm fine," I told him and the EMT sighed, shaking his head before he walked away. Sherlock offered me his hand and I took it before he bent down and picked me up again. I slipped my hands around his neck and tucked myself back under his jacket. Dimmock was waiting beside a police car just outside the tunnel as John put his arm around Sarah's shoulders and walked her away. Sherlock stopped with me to talk to the inspector one last time.

"We'll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report," Sherlock told him as Dimmock looked me over. Hey, it was cold and I didn't have shoes. I was taking advantage of Sherlock carrying me around.

"Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna...," Dimmock said and I grinned at him.

"I have high hopes for you, Inspector. A glittering career," Sherlock told him and I nodded in agreement.

"Your father would definitely be proud," I told him and he looked proud of himself.

"I go where you point me," Dimmock told us and Sherlock smiled slightly as he began walking away, holding me tighter.

"Exactly," Sherlock told me as we walked to the end of the road. John hailed his own cab and told Sherlock and I that he was going to take Sarah back to her flat and stay with her for a bit until she was alright. Sherlock and I hailed our own cab back to Baker Street and I sat beside him on the way, my head on his shoulder as he kept and arm around my waist, hugging me to his side. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out his sent comforted by his presence. He carried me back inside of Baker Street before setting me down on my feet. Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and started tittering over the both of us. When we walked back up to out flat the yellow paint was no longer across the window and Sherlock glared at them which told me that Mycroft had paid a little visit to our flat.

Mrs. Hudson made us both tea and Sherlock and I sat up together, he in his chair and I in the chair normally occupied by John. He set a fire in the fireplace for me and I warmed my feet under the quilt Mrs. Hudson had set over me before she told Sherlock that he best take better care of me before she left us and went back down stairs. Sherlock picked up his violin and started playing and I watched him, his face eliminate by the fire as he played a slow haunting melody with his eyes closed as he lost himself in the music. I watched him in rapture as the notes rose and fell in his own composition. I started to nod off before John came home and I vaguely registered Sherlock stopping playing before I was lifted up, quilt and all, my head snuggling into the consulting detective's chest. Before he even brought me to my bed and tucked me in I was fast asleep with a smile on my face.

**Third Person POV**

In the kitchen, John was sitting at the table while Sherlock stood next to him and poured him a mug of tea from a teapot. John had returned to the flat very late the night before after making sure that Sarah was settled in. He found Sherlock in his chair playing the violin, but no sight of Lexi. Sherlock had informed him that she had gone to bed a while a go and as to John's inquiry of how she was doing she was just fine.

"Ta," John said as he looked over at the translated message. "So, "Nine mill"...," John said as Sherlock poured two other mugs of tea.

"Million," Sherlock said as they both heard a door opening down the hall.

"Million, yes; "Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway."" John said as Lexi shuffled into the kitchen her hair slightly falling out of her ponytail. Sherlock handed her over one of the mugs and she accepted it sleepily and saluted him with her mug before taking a sip of her tea.

"An instruction to all their London operatives," Sherlock told John and he hummed and agreement. "A message; what they were trying to reclaim."

"What, a jade pin?" John asked him as Lexi leaned up against the kitchen counter beside Sherlock. She looked alright except for the very large black and blue angry looking bruise along her jaw line.

"Worth nine million pounds. Bring it to the Tramway, their London hideout," Sherlock told John as he pointed to the picture.

"Hang on: a hairpin worth nine million pounds?" John asked in confusion and Sherlock sighed a bit as he brought his tea mug towards his lips.

"Apparently," Sherlock said, shrugging slightly.

"Why so much?" John asked him but it was Lexi who spoke up as Sherlock took a sip of his tea after putting his other hand into the pocket of his trousers.

"Depends on who owned it. If I can remember it correctly Confucius said that, 'The wise have likened jade to virtue. For them, its polish and brilliancy represent the whole of purity; its perfect compactness and extreme hardness represent the sureness of intelligence; its angles, which do not cut, although they seem sharp, represent justice; the pure and prolonged sound, which it gives forth when one strikes it, represents music. Its colour represents loyalty; its interior flaws, always showing themselves through the transparency, call to mind sincerity; its iridescent brightness represents heaven; its admirable substance, born of mountain and of water, represents the earth. Used alone without ornamentation it represents chastity. The price that the entire world attaches to it represents the truth. To support these comparisons, the Book of Verse says: "When I think of a wise man, his merits appear to be like jade."' Jade is really special in Chinese culture, also as the Chinese saying goes "Gold has a value; jade is invaluable." This jade hairpin would have been more valuable to the Black Lotus than either Van Coon or Lukis realized. To them it would have been just that, a hairpin," Lexi told them and Sherlock looked back at her and smiled and she returned his grin with one of her own before she took another sip of her tea.

"Well, that is that case solved. I believe we have a check to go and collect as Lexi has pointed out the hole in Sebastian's security and the way that our killer got into Sir William's office," Sherlock said putting his cup of tea down on the kitchen table.

"Give me five minutes to go put some clothes on," Lexi said, putting her tea mug down beside his before darting back towards her room, the door closing again. The two men waited for Lexi to return dressed in a pair of black tights, a long red, plaid skirt, and an off white wool sweater with a little black belt around her waist. She wore a pair of black heeled boots and Sherlock jumped up towards the door and started putting his coat on as John slowly got up, following the detectives. Sherlock helped Lexi into her coat which was surprising blood free now, the two detectives sharing a look as they noticed this as well. They shook their heads before Sherlock draped her scarf around her neck and she tied it before reaching over and tying his for him.

The three residents of 221B walked down the stairs and hailed a cab, taking a trip to Shad Sanderson Bank. John watched the two detectives talking about something rapidly before they reverted to French. That was what pissed him off the most. It was fine that they talked to one another and didn't include him, but they didn't have to start talking in another language just to keep him out of their conversation. They arrived at the bank and the three piled out, Lexi paying the cabbie before she took Sherlock's offered arm and the three of them walked towards the entrance to the bank.

"Two operatives based in London. They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin," Sherlock said, speaking in English again.

"Worth nine million pounds," John said with a nod before Sherlock continued.

"Eddie Van Coon was the thief. He stole the treasure when he was in China," Sherlock said and John stared back at him in disbelief as he saw a grin on Lexi's face.

"How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis? Even the killer didn't know that," John asked and Lexi leaned forward across from Sherlock.

"Because of the soap," Lexi said as the three of them walked through the revolving doors. Sherlock and Lexi looked round at John smugly and he stopped and stared back at him blankly for a moment before following him into the bank. It was decided that John would meet with Sebastian alone and explain everything to him as neither Sherlock nor Lexi were particularly pleased to have to see him again. John agreed as he could tell that there was some bad blood between the three of them and he didn't want to get thrown out by security. Sherlock he could understand, but he couldn't figure out why Lexi disliked him. With Lexi you could never figure out what went through her head.

**Lexi's POV**

We went our separate ways and John went to Sebastian's office as we walked upstairs to go meet with Van Coon's P.A. In the cab Sherlock and I had a quick discussion, sharing our deductions with one another and I pointed out to him that Van Coon and his P.A. were having an affair and oddly enough I had remembered that she had a hairpin in her hair. Came to the conclusion that Van Coon had been the one to steal from the Black Lotus and not Lukis. When Van Coon refused to tell them he had been the one to steal the hairpin they had killed him then went to Lukis. Lukis having no idea what they were talking about was also killed. As we walked Sherlock rang up Van Coon's P.A on her office phone.

"Amanda," She answered as I stood near Sherlock so I could hear as well.

"He bought you a present," Sherlock said without giving his name.

"Oh. Hello," Amanda said brightly as if she wasn't surprised.

"A little gift when he came back from China," Sherlock continued as we walked up behind her.

"How do you know that?" Amanda asked into the phone.

"We know because you weren't just Van Coon's P.A., were you?" I asked Amanda and she turned in surprise as Sherlock and I walked around to the side of the desk and he switched of his mobile and put it back into his pocket.

"Someone's been gossiping," Amanda said, putting her own phone back on the receiver.

"No," Sherlock told her and she frowned.

"Then I don't understand. Why...?" Amanda asked us as Sherlock gestured for me to deliver our deductions. I grinned at him wincing slightly as my jaw twinged in pain.

"It was the scented hand soap in his apartment that gave it away. Three hundred millilitres of it and the bottle was almost finished," I told Amanda, interrupting her question.

"Sorry?" She asked me frowning in confusion and Sherlock took over for me.

"I don't think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself hand soap – not unless he had a lady coming over. And it's the same brand as that hand cream there on your desk," Sherlock said and Amanda momentarily looked down awkwardly.

"Look, it wasn't serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn't last – he was my boss," Amanda said and I frowned slightly. She really had liked him.

"What happened? What made you end it if you liked him so much?" I asked Amanda and she looked up at me sadly.

"I thought he didn't appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often – we'd plan to go away for the weekend and then he'd just leave; fly off to China at a moment's notice," Amanda told me and I nodded in understanding.

"And he brought you a present from abroad to say sorry," Sherlock said as we both looked at the small green jade hairpin in her hair. All this time the Black Locus were looking for it and they never thought that he might have given it away. Seemed like a pretty big thing to give to say sorry given the fact it had cost him his life. Van Coon might not have been all bad if he stole something from the horde to give to her. "Can I ... just have a look at it?" Sherlock asked her holding his hand out for the pin.

**John's POV**

In Sebastian's office, Sebastian was signing a cheque for £20,000. He looked up at John who is standing on the other side of the desk having just finished telling him everything that had happened during the case and what Lexi had found out about the hole in their security.

"He really climbed up onto the balcony?" Sebastian asked as he put the cheque into an envelope.

"Nail a plank across the window and all your problems are over," John told him as Sebastian looked at him peeved before he held the envelope out to John. "Thanks," John said as he took it from him. He was starting to figure out just why Sherlock and Lexi didn't like him.

**Third Person POV**

Amanda held her hair in place with one hand while she took out the pin with the other. "Said he bought it in a street market," Amanda told the detectives as she out it into Sherlock's outstretched hand.

"Oh, I don't think that's true. I think he pinched it," Sherlock told Amanda as they two detectives looked down at it.

"Yeah, that's Eddie," Amanda said chuckling ruefully as Lexi and her shared a look.

"Didn't know its value; just thought it would suit you," Sherlock said as he and Lexi looked at each other and Lexi nodded ruefully.

"Oh? What's it worth?" Amanda asked the detectives curiously and they both smirked at her.

"Nine ... million ... pounds," Sherlock told her slowly and Amanda's face filled with shock.

"Oh my God!" She shouted and she stumbled to her feet and staggered backwards as Sherlock and Lexi grinned. "Oh my G...," Amanda said as she turned and ran away. "Nine million!" She shouted her voice high pitched and hysterical as John turned his head around in Sebastian office at the sound of her voice before he turned back and nodded to Sebastian before leaving his office to go and join the two consulting detectives.

The next morning found Sherlock, wearing a dressing gown over his shirt and trousers and Lexi wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. Sherlock and Lexi sat side by side at the dining table while John sits opposite the two detectives. Sherlock was looking at the front page of the Sunday Express with Lexi leaning against his shoulder to look at it was well. The headline read, "Who wants to be a million-hair". He folded the paper in half, put it down and picked up another newspaper as Lexi grinned and sat upright with an ice pack held over her jaw. Her bruise looked worse than the day before but her arm was healing nicely. She hadn't complained once and Sherlock seemed to be waiting on her hand and foot.

"Over a thousand years old and it's sitting on her bedside table every night," John remarked as he ate his breakfast.

"He didn't know its value; didn't know why they were chasing him," Sherlock told him as he folded another newspaper and started skimming through the article about the pin in that newspaper.

"Hmm. Should've just got her a lucky cat," John said causing Lexi to giggle as Sherlock smiled at him briefly before he looked away towards the Irish detective.

"Hmm," Sherlock said as his gaze became distant, the two detectives sharing a long as John studied them closely.

"You mind, don't you?" John asked them as he folded his hands under his chin.

"What?" Sherlock asked as the detectives both looked at John, Lexi raising one eyebrow at him. She hadn't spoken much in the last day as her jaw was sore. Sherlock had gotten slapped for saying that they might finally have some peace and quiet in the flat.

"That she escaped – General Shan. It's not enough that we got her two henchmen," John said as Lexi snorted before coughing violently. Sherlock reached across and handed her a tissue and she took it, blowing her nose. John grinned slightly as the consulting detective grimaced in disgust and Lexi stuck her tongue out at him. Lexi's little stroll in the cold without shoes had set her back in terms of her cold and her voice had gone all scratchy. John had heard her coughing most of the night and he had woken up to find her in his chair with a mug of peppermint tea, Sherlock sitting across from her reading aloud from a book about the Bubonic plague.

"It must be a vast network, John; thousands of operatives. You, me, and Lexi, we barely scratched the surface," Sherlock said as Lexi coughed again and sniffled, her eyes blood shot and drooping.

"You cracked the code, though, the both of you; and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them now that he knows it," John said as Sherlock pushed Lexi's tea towards her. He kept making tea for her all morning and she kept drinking it like an obedient child.

"No. No. We cracked this code; all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book," Sherlock told him as he opened his newspaper and lifted it, beginning to read as Lexi leaned her head against his shoulder again and started reading it with him. It was the most domestic seen John had ever seen and he smiled slightly before his eyes drift over to the window. He frowned and looked closely as a young man in a hooded jacket and wearing a cap walked over to a tall black box on the other side of the road which dispensed parking permits. Putting a bag on the ground, the young man looked around in all directions to make sure he was not being watched, then lifted a spray can in his right hand and sprayed his tag on the back of the box. John watched as the 'artist' finished the tag, picked up his bag and hurried away. As Sherlock and Lexi, oblivious to this, continued to read their paper together. John looked thoughtfully at the image of an eye staring across from him in yellow paint from across the road, an eye that said we are watching you.

In a room somewhere in London, Shan was sitting at a desk and talking to someone over a computer. Her live image was being transmitted to the other person but the space on the screen which should be showing the face of whoever she was talking to was marked "No image available." There was also a text box on the screen which showed that the person to whom she was talking was indicated simply as "M".

"Without you – without your assistance – we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks," Shan said humbly as the other person's response appeared typed on the screen.

**M: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS**

**M: IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS**

The computer beeped to indicate that the message had finished. "We did not anticipate ... we did not know this man…this woman would come – this Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna," Shan said her face filling with concern. "And now your safety is compromised," Shan said before the computer beeped and the new text appeared.

**M: THEY CANNOT TRACE THIS BACK TO ME**

The computer beeped and Shan spoke again. "I will not reveal your identity," Shan told her contact sincerely and the computer beeped again.

**M: I AM CERTAIN.**

The computer beeped signalling the end of the message and unseen by Shan, the red light of a rifle's laser sight appeared in the centre of her forehead. A single gunshot rang out as a bullet smashed through the window opposite en route to its target. Across London in another room a man with slicked back hair wearing a dark suit sat back in his chair taking his hands off of his key board. Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna. Maybe it was time for him to start steeping up his game. He smiled evilly as he stood up and walked over to the window, staring out over London. The city laid before him like a chessboard and all his little pawns were ready to be controlled. Let the games begin.


	41. The Leviathan

**(A/N) Hello my sweeties! I am so sorry this is being posted late. Melody is all sorts of confused today. I still thought it was Friday. The days are slipping away from me. I start back at Uni on Monday. *wipes brow* So I'll keep this rather short, without further ado the first chapter of the Leviathan, the short case before the Great Game! Allonsy and lots of love sweeties- Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirty Nine-The Leviathan<strong>

**"****I fear that if the matter is beyond humanity, it is certainly beyond me." **  
><strong>― <strong>**Arthur Conan Doyle****, ****_The Adventure of the Devil's Foot_**

**Lexi's POV**

We finished the case involving the Black Lotus and I heard from the hospital and found that Soo Lin was going to make a full recovery. I had then sent Mycroft to meet her which he did and she was going to be put into a witness protection program and sent to America. I had talked with her over the phone because I was too ill to visit her and it would never be allowed and she thanked me for saving her life and all I had done for her. She excitedly told me that Mycroft had told her that she would get to work the same job she had here in London. I was exceedingly happy for her and very grateful that Mycroft had helped her for me. Then again if he hadn't I would have never let him hear the end of it. The three of us preceded to have a nice quite night in with takeaway from Angelo's to wind down after the case and after that the first bought of violent coughing started. For about three days it was like I was attempting to cough up a lung, but by the fourth day I started to sound a bit better and I was able to make an appearance in the land of the living. I had made it round to Molly's the day before and we drank wine and ate ice cream as we watched movies. I had apologized to her that I wasn't up to doing much more, but she told me it was more than all right and she hadn't been able to just have time to relax and watch a movie with anyone lately and she was glad for the company.

John and Sherlock had been amazing while I was sick. Sherlock let me sleep while John was out at work and he brought me tea and some jam on toast which was all I felt like eating. When John got home he went in complete doctor mode and checked on how I was doing before forcing me to eat a little something. John's cooking wasn't the best, but it was sweet that he was trying. He said that after all the times I had taken care of him and Sherlock since we moved in together it was time for them to repay the favour. I was injured after all. The bruise on my jaw unfortunately got worse before it got better but at least it now looked more like a sickly yellow with only a few splotches of black and blue. The bruise on my stomach was only yellow now and my sword wound was healing cleanly and I could get my stitches out by the end of the week. I sat up on the couch watching Doctor Who as Sherlock sat reading in his chair as the day passed. Mrs. Hudson brought us up some soup around lunch time and some fresh bread while she let us know that she would be out visiting her sister in Bristol the next day and wouldn't be home until late Sunday night. When John returned home from the surgery he smile tiredly to see me sitting up on the couch.

"You're looking a bit better. How are you feeling?" John asked me as he took off his jacket and threw it over the back of his chair before sinking into it. It was almost John's last day of work and I could tell that it had been a trying day for him already and he was ready for the weekend which was just around the corner. Two patients with the flu, four hypochondriac mothers, and one person vomited on him.

"Better than you. Tea?" I asked him as I got up from my cocoon of blankets and made my way into the kitchen. I found John's favourite tea, Earl Grey, and set the kettle on while I pulled down an English Breakfast for Sherlock and myself.

"Ta," John called tiredly as he set into his chair. I danced around the kitchen and found our respective tea mugs. I made all of our tea the way we liked it before carefully carrying it back into the living room. I handed John his tea and he thanked me tiredly before I went and held Sherlock's tea out to him, letting the smell of it drift over to him. He looked up from his book and lowered it to his lap, taking his tea from me like the good British gentleman he was.

"Thank you," Sherlock told me, talking a sip of his tea as I crawled back into my blankets and curled up with my steaming mug of tea. John and I watched Doctor Who together for a bit while Sherlock went back to reading. Before long John started to get hungry and we got some Greek take away from a place Sherlock claimed was good as, "You can always tell a good Greek place by the curtains."

It was just a quite night in and I turned in early, leaving John and Sherlock to their own devices. When morning rose I felt infinitely better and certainly on the road to recovery. I got showered and got dressed in jeans and a thick wool jumper to fight off the chill. I made my way into the living room to find Sherlock awake and on the couch, lying in his prayer position, his book from the night before on the coffee table. John wasn't awake yet apparently. I padded across the living room and I lifted Sherlock's feet, sitting at the end of the couch and picked up my book. Sherlock readjusted himself slightly but he made no comment as to my disturbing him. This had been our new sitting arrangement. We would join each other on the couch and move whoever got there first so we could sit. Without warning Sherlock suddenly sat up and grabbed his book before swinging his legs around and putting his head it my lap. I looked down at him from over my book as he opened his own and started reading. I had no idea where to put my hand that had been on his legs. This was new. I settled on putting my hand on the top of his head and Sherlock sighed. At first I thought it was a sigh of irritation, but then I saw the contented look on his face. Hmmm? I moved my fingers slightly, carding my fingers lightly through his hair and Sherlock sighed again and pushed his head up into my hand slightly. He was just like a cat. I grinned and started reading again, carding my fingers slowly through his curls, careful not to get them tangled and pull on his hair. We settled in for a bit completely content the way we were.

**Third Person POV**

John awoke to the loud, shrill sound of someone ringing the door bell. He didn't have to get up and go into the surgery until a little longer. It was still early. When the doorbell rang again he grumpily got out of bed and put his slippers on before throwing his robe on and storming out of his room to find out why no one had gotten the door. He walked into the living room and instantly froze at the sight in front of him. Lexi was sitting on the couch reading, a fond smile on her face as she carded her hands through the hair of the consulting detective still in his night clothes and robe who had his head in her lap and looked like he had fallen asleep. The doorbell rang again breaking John out of him momentary shock and neither of the occupants on the couch turned their heads or even seemed to notice that the door bell was ringing.

"Aren't one of you going to get that?" John asked them in exasperation and Lexi at least flicked her gaze over to him before turning back to her book.

"Hmm, no. Mrs. Hudson will get it," Sherlock commented drily and Lexi lowered her book and looked down at the overgrown child in her lap and shook her head at him.

"Mrs. Hudson went to visit her sister in Bristol Lock. She's not going to be back until late on Sunday," Lexi told him, putting down her book and going to move to get up before Sherlock held her down and she fell back into her seat.

"Don't get up," Sherlock told her, putting her hand back on his head. She grinned fondly and started carding her fingers through his hair again and he sighed. "Headache. It makes it feel better," Sherlock mumbled and John stood completely frozen once again after what he had just seen. It seemed like the most unimaginative lie that John could ever imagine and as to why Sherlock would be lying John had no idea. The doorbell once again announced someone's presence breaking the army doctor out of his thoughts.

"I'll get it then shall I?" John asked the detectives tetchily, recieiving no response from either of them as they were seeming lost in their own little world. John didn't want to know what was going on with them. The only thing he had known was that when Lexi had left for Molly's and hadn't come back until late Sherlock had stayed up pouting until she came home and then he had rushed to get her a cup of tea. John stomped down the stairs and pulled open the door, finding a man on the other side. He was in his late thirties and he looked relieved that someone had finally answered the door.

"Good morning," The man said looking slightly nervous. "Do, um, Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna live here? I was referred here by a friend of mine who's heard about them, the consulting detectives. She said I might have to try more than once," The man said and John nodded at that.

"Good advice. Um, come in, they're just upstairs," John offered, standing back and letting the man into the hall.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure who I could come to with my problem," The man said as John led him upstairs. "Bit of a strange one. Can I ask who you are?" The man asked John and John looked back at him as the man eyed him wearily.

"Oh um, John Watson, I'm their colleague," John said as he showed their visitor into the living room where Sherlock and Lexi were still in their spots together. Apparently they weren't bother at all that he was showing someone up to their flat.

"Friend," Lexi commented, finally looking up from her book and dog earring the page before setting it down on the arm of the couch and giving him and their visitor her full attention.

"You would be Alexandria?" The man asked Lexi and she grinned as he held out her hand and she shook it while attempting not to jostle Sherlock too much, the consulting detective childish refusing to sit up and acknowledge their visitor's presence.

"Lexi actually," Lexi said and John was set at ease knowing that whoever this man was Lexi seemed to like him well enough. "And this is Sherlock as I no doubt assume you figured out," Lexi said with a little laugh, gesturing to the over grown detective that was stretched out across her before he sat up and turned. "Tea?" Lexi asked him as she finally managed to get up while at the same time grabbing a chair from the side and putting it in the middle of the living room between his and Sherlock's chair.

"Yes, thank you," The man responded as he took the seat Lexi offered him and Sherlock got up from the couch and sat in his chair, steepling his hands under his chin. John shook his head for a moment before he went and sat down in his own chair, observing the man sitting in their living room as Lexi danced around the kitchen behind them.

"Casterly Rock Security. The world's foremost maker of bank vaults. And you, Mr. Erlich, are the president and head engineer. I am familiar with your work," Sherlock said, finally speaking up and John jumped slightly.

"My friend told me that you were good Mr. Holmes, but not how good," The man, Mr. Erlich, said as Lexi brought out their tea. "Thank you," He told her as he accepted his mug of tea.

"Sherlock and I enjoy many hobbies in our free time, including lock picking. We read up on your work. Crepe?" Lexi asked him as she passed John and Sherlock their tea before she headed back to the kitchen. John snorted into his mug of tea almost choking on it over the completely random question.

"Um, no, thank you," Mr. Erlich told Lexi with a confused look before he turned back to John and Sherlock. John could heard Lexi milling about in the kitchen and the sound of the fridge opening and closing before a pan was set on the oven. "If you know our work, you know that we introduced a new flagship product in 2009. The Leviathan," Mr. Erlich said speaking a little louder so Lexi could hear him from the kitchen.

"Yes. You marketed the safe as impregnable. Didn't you learn anything from the Titanic?" Lexi asked Mr. Erlich as she popped her head back into the living room a bit of flour dusted over her cheek. Sherlock smiled as he looked up, shaking his head slightly and Lexi stuck her tongue out at the consulting detective as both John and Mr. Erlich watched their childish display. Lexi popped back into the kitchen again and Sherlock turned back to Mr. Erlich.

"Your company introduced a supposedly unbreakable safe in 2009, and then paid the price for your hubris when The Leviathan was plundered within the calendar year," Sherlock remarked as the delicious smell of cooking wafted out of the kitchen. John sighed heavily. At least if he was woken up earlier than he needed to be he was getting breakfast out of it. Why was the president of a security company that made bank vaults looking to get help from Sherlock and Lexi though?

"Thank you," Mr. Erlich said sarcastically before sighing. "The four men who robbed that bank, they were brilliant. A once-in-a-lifetime assembly of criminal talent. Now, eventually all four were caught and convicted, but none of them talked. We did what we could to improve the product, but the chance of another four criminals that bright collaborating again?" Mr. Erlich said shaking his head as Lexi came in with three plates and handed one to John and Sherlock both topped with a mound of crepes covered in butter and syrup.

"And yet you came here looking for our help. Me thinks that you underestimated the fact that the criminal classes are getting more and more brilliant by the day and less worried about getting caught," Lexi commented as she brushed off her hand on her jeans before she took a seat on the arm of Sherlock's chair and took a bite of her crepes.

"The Svalbard Diamond Exchange was robbed last night. They're missing $40 million in stones," Mr. Erlich said and Lexi nodded slightly as John's eyes widened in surprise. $40 million quid in diamonds stolen overnight. If he had that much money he would never have to work again. The again John had noticed that the bills had disappeared and that they had suddenly been paid, but whether it was Sherlock or Lexi who paid them he didn't have a clue.

"Stones protected by your vault," Sherlock commented as he put his plate down on the dining room table. Lexi looked at him pointedly and raised one eyebrow as the two detectives seemed to have a silent argument before Sherlock picked his plate back up and cut a large piece of crepe before shoving it into his mouth and chewing it hurriedly before swallowing and huffing.

"There, eat your fancy French pancakes," Lexi told him before she turned back to Mr. Erlich and John who had similar expressions on their face as if they were trying to figure out if they had really just seen that. John just shook his head and dug into his own food. Best not to say anything. "So the diamonds were stolen. That still doesn't explain what you need us for," Lexi told Mr. Erlich and he sighed heavily and said back in his chair.

"The Leviathan has a seven-figure price tag. If somebody finds out that another one's been compromised and we don't know how, we're done," Mr. Erlich said as Lexi stood up and took their empty plates back to the kitchen, the sound of the water turning on in the kitchen.

"Well, the police must be looking into who robbed your vault," John spoke up as he heard a sloshing sound in the kitchen and more moving around. This shouldn't have been something so…normal to him. The president of a large security company was currently sitting in the living room of their flat taking about diamonds being stolen, he was wearing his pyjamas and so was Sherlock, and they had just eaten breakfast in front of him. When did that suddenly become normal? The minute he moved in. The minute he agreed to take the room upstairs and become flatmates with not one but two consulting detectives. It became normal when he worked the second case with them and then the third. It became normal when he became friend with Sherlock Holmes and Lexi Mackenna.

"I take it the "how" is where we come in?" Sherlock asked Mr. Erlich and he nodded as he sat forward in his seat. Lexi returned and sat back down on the arm of Sherlock's chair and the consulting detective raised his hand to the small of her back and kept it there as they both studied the man in front of them. John found it slightly terrifying how in sync they had been recently. Everyone kept mistaking them for a couple and it wasn't hard to unless you knew differently. They were always around each other as if they natural gravitated towards one another and now that John noticed it they were always touching each other in some way. Either their legs were pressed together or they were bumping shoulders. It was strange. If John didn't know any better he would say that they were in love but both Sherlock and Lexi had both claimed that they didn't date.

"I think that there must have been a fifth conspirator. Someone the other thieves never told us about," Mr. Erlich said and Lexi and Sherlock shared a look with one another before turning back to their guest.

"Idiocy. The height of intellectual vanity. If one group of people can figure out to get past your vault, so can a second," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded in agreement before Mr. Erlich protested.

"No, you don't understand. We have six layers of bleeding-edge security, redundancy at every step," Mr. Erlich said and Lexi nodded again but then shook her head.

"Yes and if a second group can, so can a third. Security isn't always everything and I should know. I've broken into some rather secure places," Lexi said and Mr. Erlich gave her a disbelieving look. "The point Sherlock and I are trying to make here is that no matter how good your security is, if one group can figure out how to get past your vault so can second. Now, if you want to know the answer we need to see the diamond exchange," Lexi told Mr. Erlich and he nodded earnestly.

"I have a car out front that can take you there," Mr. Erlich said, rising from his chair and Sherlock shook his head.

"No, we'll follow you in a cab. John, don't you have to get to work?" Sherlock suddenly asked the army doctor who was surprised at suddenly being asked a question. John looked down at the clock and realized he only had an half an hour to get into work before his shift started.

"Oh yes. Sorry. Nice to meet you," John told Mr. Erlich, shaking his hand before he hurried up to his room to get ready leaving the consulting detectives alone with their client.

"As I said, we'll follow you in a cab. We can discuss our consulting fees when we get there," Sherlock told Mr. Erlich dismissively and he nodded. In understanding.

"Yes of course. Thank you for taking the case," He told us graciously as Sherlock moved and picked up his violin. It was his way of saying he was done with the current line of conversation and he need to think.

"We'll see you shortly," Lexi told Mr. Erlich escorting him to the door before he left. The consulting detectives waited until the door shut down stairs before they turned to each other, Sherlock setting down his violin, and let out a loud chuckle and a bell like laugh respectively. Sherlock picked Lexi up and spun her around slightly before setting her on her feet and kissing the top of her head.

"Ah, finally another case! My brain was starting to liquefy in its own putrid juices," Sherlock said just as the army doctor walked down stairs in a checked, button up shirt and his jeans. He looked over at the two detectives and shook his head.

"Thank you for that lovely mental image after I just ate," John told Sherlock who shrugged as John pulled on his jacket. "I'll be home later. Try not to cause too much trouble," John told the consulting detectives and Lexi nodded and saluted him.

"Oui. We'll be out solving cases like normal while you fight off mothers who bring in their sick children," Lexi said with a little laugh and John fixed a glare on her.

"Very funny," John said before shaking his head and walking through to the stairs.

"Make good choices, don't talk to strangers and chew with your mouth closed!" Lexi shouted after John's retreating back only to receive a sarcastic laugh in reply.

**Lexi's POV**

After John left, Sherlock went to change into some real clothes and I traded my thick jumper for a tank top and a light sweater. I was feeling better but I wasn't going to push it even if the weather had turned warm again. Dressed in proper clothes the both of us pulled our coats and scarves on before we headed down to the curbing. I wasn't going to lie. This case seemed really interesting to me. I had read about when the Leviathan had initially been broken into and I had followed the case when it went to trial. That was when I had first heard about Mr. Erlich. Now a second Leviathan had been broken into and instead of wanting us to investigate the who, Mr. Erlich wanted us to investigate the how. I had been wanting to get my hands on a Leviathan for a while. Lock picking was a little hobby of me and the Leviathan was the lock to crack, the impregnable safe. It had all the allure I needed to get interested in this case. We hailed a cab and the two of us slid into the back, sitting next to each other rather than on opposite sides of the cab even though it wasn't required since John wasn't here.

"It's obvious that their belief that another group could do the same as the first is their downfall," Sherlock commented as the cab pulled out into traffic. I hummed in agreement as I thought over everything we knew so far.

"Erlich called them a 'once-in-a-lifetime assembly of criminal talent.' You have to figure. They say they improved the safe after it was broken into the first time but he said it came with a seven figure price tag. How much do you want to figure that they didn't add as much security to it as they claimed to save them money? It was broken into once but they are naive to think only one group could do it," I told Sherlock and he hummed in agreement.

"Exactly, their idiocy. It is the height of their intellectual vanity that they think no one can crack their safe," Sherlock said and I grinned at him. If nothing else this case would be fun just because I got to try and crack one of them.

"Except for maybe us," I told Sherlock with a laugh and he grinned back at me in amusement.

"Yes, except for us," Sherlock agreed. We rode the rest of the cab ride in amiable silence, Sherlock's hand resting over my knee as he looked out of the window. I smiled fondly at the consulting detective who I had found a friend in. We arrived at the Svalbard Diamond Exchange and Sherlock paid the cabbie before we made our way over to the police tape where Mr. Erlich met us and escorted us inside the building.

"So, how much do you think you'll do this for? Name your price," Mr. Erlich asked us as we stood in the main show room. Sherlock and I did a scan of the room. The security was rather primitive upstairs. A few security cameras, but not really anything that would stop a hardened criminal or someone with enough skill. In other words, if I had chosen a life of crime rather than catching criminals I could have robbed the place more than once. Every now and again I liked to remind myself of that fact.

"I think nine times our usual consulting fees will do. This is after all not the sort of case we normally take," I told Erlich and he nodded in understanding. Great because I was getting paid for this case. We consulted for Lestrade for free, but these cases were where we made our money. Sebastian, while I strongly disliked the man, I loved his money. I made sure the bills got paid so John wouldn't feel the need to work if he didn't want to. I had my own money set aside from the jobs I had worked the last few years and I still had a pretty good amount in savings from when I used to take cases and charge people for my services. I didn't want John to think that he had to work to support the three of us.

"That is more than acceptable," Erlich told me and I nodded as he moved away to let us do our thing. I moved closely to Sherlock and we stood back to back as we turned around, calculating every entry and exit point and the route they would have taken to get around the security measures. They were clever.

"Remind me to make up a consulting fee when we leave here. I still haven't done that yet," I whispered to Sherlock and he chuckled slightly before I turned to Erlich and straightened up. "Show us the vault," I told him and he nodded before gesturing for us to follow him.

"Right this way," He told us and he led us into the back and down a lift to the ground floor where the vault was kept in the basement, the only place that was large enough to install it. They called it the Leviathan not just because it was supposedly impregnable but also because of its size.

"The security upstairs is rather rudimentary. I take it anything of value is stowed in the vault, after hours," Sherlock said as a man suddenly appeared behind us and the three of us turned around to see who he was.

"Mr. Erlich. The police said that your consultants can't see the vault till they're done," The man told us and I snorted at that. Honestly, we were consulting detectives. The belief that we didn't know how to conduct ourselves at an active crime scene was laughable.

"Conveniently were also consultants for Scotland Yard, Mister?" I asked the man, wondering who it was I could raise an eyebrow at and he humoured me by answering my question. They always humoured me after all.

"Batonvert, David Batonvert. I'm the floor manager here," The man told us and Sherlock nodded before clapping his hands together and smiling at Batonvert in his sickly false way. Lovely, I was dealing with that Sherlock now. There were many sides of Sherlock and I had seen most if not all of them. Nothing he did really surprised me anymore.

"I can assure you we know how to conduct ourselves at a crime scene, Mr. Batonvert," Sherlock told him and I could detect the hint of sarcasm in his voice and Sherlock looked at me and rolled his eyes.

_'Behave,'_ I told him with a pointed look and he huffed before I turned back to Batonvert. "Your name means "green stick" in French," I told him and I saw Sherlock smirk out of the corner of my eye. Mission accomplished. So I told him to behave and then I was the rude one. What could I say?

"Uh, yeah?" 'Green stick' said before walking away and leaving us to do our work. Good, no more interruptions. This was why were generally only consulted for Lestrade. Taking on clients could be a hassle and irritating.

"So, you have a motion sensor embedded in the ceiling, a light sensor on the wall. Cardboard box can take care of the motion sensor. The light detector they would mask with simple black tape," Sherlock remarked as we walked down to where the vault was kept, checking out the security measures they had down here. They spent far more time securing the area around the vault than they did upstairs, but even the best security could be bypassed as they had found out.

"They made short work of that lock," I said as I pointed to the metal door which had been broken into. They had picked it in a matter of seconds probably. I knelt down and pushed my hair behind my ear as I looked at it. "Easy to pick. Shouldn't have taken them long if they knew what they were doing," I continued as Sherlock helped me back up to my feet. "Body heat sensor in the ceiling could be coated with hair spray, buy a little time, which brings us to the door itself," I said as we walked into the room and the Leviathan stood before us.

"She is beautiful, hmm," Erlich said and I nodded as Sherlock and I did a sweep of the large room, looking for any evidence that the police might have missed. It would seem that they hadn't left anything behind.

"This lock is not pickable," Sherlock commented as we walked up to the Leviathan door. The ten digit access code key pad was the only way to get in and you had to pair the code with a key. In theory you would need to know the code and have the key in order to get into the vault, but obviously they had found a way to do it without either.

"That key is, what, a foot long?" I asked Erlich and he nodded at me as I knelt down in front of the key pad and assessed the vault door. "The tumblers are weighted so they cannot be manipulated with a pick," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me.

"You could, of course, put a tiny camera on this fire extinguisher. If you knew an excellent locksmith, you could provide an image of the key, have it duplicated," Sherlock said as I got up and looked around. There wasn't much in the room that they could have worked with as it was virtually bare save for the vault. The only other thing in the room was a fire extinguisher and a fire axe. Unless they had used either which I rather doubted, they didn't use it in the robbery thought Sherlock was right, they could have gotten an image of the key from a secret camera and had a lock smith make a duplicate. Then they could have easily removed the camera and any sign that they had done so.

"Clever, but we already knew that," Erlich told us and Sherlock and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. I had five possible theories right now and they were all in their formative stages. I was trying to narrow them down on what we knew but the number remained at five.

"Ten-digit access code?" I asked Erlich as I took a second look at the key pad.

"Yes, it's provided by a random number generator that's hardwired into the system. The code changes every two minutes," Erlich told us and I whistled at that. Okay, so that made it a little harder to break into but not completely impossible.

"Who has the code?" Sherlock asked Erlich as he came to stand beside me taking his own look at the key pad and lock. Okay, only three theories now. We knew this had to be a group like the first was. One person alone couldn't have done this, but if people collaborated again it could have been done. Then again, if Sherlock or I could break into it alone so could someone else. I wasn't that vain nor did I think my self better than everyone else. I was smart though, especially when it came to certain things.

"It appears on a key fob that the owner carries. If you want to get in there, he's got to read it to you. He's in Gstaad right now. He's had the fob on him the whole time," Erlich told us and I straightened up and looked over at him, raising one eyebrow.

"You could always attack the random number generator, make it spit out a pattern, so you could predict the code," I told Erlich and he shook his head at my despairingly.

"The number generator is working perfectly," He told me sarcastically and I shot a look at Sherlock and rolled my eyes at him. Of course he thought it was working perfectly. Supposedly this was his impregnable vault. The fact still remained that someone had gotten in so he really shouldn't be too confident on how his vault worked right now.

"Well, then we're gonna need a little time with this," I told Erlich, dismissing him as I sat down on the floor facing the vault. Erlich stood for a moment before I heard him leave and Sherlock sat down beside me. "So to get in you need a key and a ten- digit access code. They key is easy enough to duplicate but according to Erlich the only way to get the code is off of the key fob the owner carries because apparently you can't attack the random number generator. Am I missing anything?" I asked Sherlock as I settled my arm against his shoulder so we were leaning against each other.

"Hmm? No," Sherlock told me as he steepled his fingers under his chin and closed his eyes. Great, thought as much. I took a deep breath and closed my own eyes as I entered what I now called my Mind Palace.

I had done some rearranging and instead of the room of filing cabinets it now resembled the flat only slightly different. Now I had a ground floor with a little padded cell which I kept things hidden away in. If you made you way up a long set of stairs you would come to the flat where everything was categorized nicely in its respective spot. Sherlock and John occupied their chairs and if I continued on I would find Bart's lab where Molly was and Mycroft's office where I kept my thoughts about him. I also had Lestrade's office to stash any information on the D.I. This new method worked better than before and I envisioned myself in the flat. When I arrived I only found Sherlock in his chair, John nowhere in sight. Mind Place Sherlock was plucking on the strings of his violin and he looked up and smiled when he saw me.

_'Do we have a case?'_ Mental Sherlock asked me as he hopped out of his chair excitedly and put his violin down where he had been sitting as I came to stand in the middle of the living room to look at the mirror which already had bits of information stuck to it that I had collected so far about the case.

'_Yup, the Leviathan,'_ I told Sherlock as he came to stand beside me. _'Where's John?'_ I commented, used to the army doctor also being here when I reviewed for a case.

_'I don't know. Only I was here,'_ Sherlock told me his face screwing up in confusion. I patted him on the arm comfortingly and he huffed. _'How should I know woman? It's your brain,'_ Sherlock told me as he walked over to the couch and plopped down onto it. Ah, there he was, my brooding consulting detective.

_'I know. If it wasn't thought you wouldn't be here,_' I told Sherlock with a grin, sticking my tongue out at him when he rolled his eyes. _'Now what do you think?' _I asked Sherlock as I stepped closer to the mirror. I didn't jump when Sherlock was suddenly at my side, looking over the top of my head since I was still a good deal shorter than he was.

_'Obviously this wasn't a once person job so we are looking at a group of people. Most likely everyone had their own particular skill that they used to complete one portion of the job like the first group,'_ Sherlock said and I nodded at him and hummed in agreement.

'_So, how did the second team figure out how to get in as well? Either they are really clever or the first group gave their secret away. Or there was a fifth conspirator as Erlich thinks and he found others to help him,'_ I remarked and Sherlock looked at me and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

_'And the key code?'_ He asked me and I thought about it for a moment before answering him.

_'Attack the random number generator. Like I said, make it spit out a pattern, so you could predict the code,'_ I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. _'It's possible they could also have found out the code by something the keys on the key pad themselves gave away, number used more often than others.'_

_'Very good,'_ Sherlock told me and I grinned as he smiled back at me. _'Now to prove your theory,' _Sherlock said and I nodded at him giving him a little wave of good bye before I surfaced myself from my thoughts. I got up and moved over to the key pad, kneeling beside it as I started to try to input random codes. The beeping seemed to rouse Sherlock from his own mental stupor as his eyes opened and he came to join me by the key pad. We took turns trying to input random codes but none of them seemed to work. None of the keys seemed to be worn down either as if they had been used more often which burnt that theory out. I heard my phone ping and I sighed as I pulled it out.

**Where are you? Got back to the flat and Sherlock and you aren't here. –JW**

**Svalbard Diamond Exchange. –LM**

I put my phone back away after texting John and set back in trying to figure out the damn code. We didn't even turn around as we heard someone enter the room, still trying out codes. "What are you doing down here?" Someone asked us and I looked around to see John standing in the door way having apparently just gotten off of work. Odd that, time seemed to fly when you mind was occupied.

"Just stress testing the keypad. You think there'd be some tell in the keys themselves, but no…can't be that bloody simple," I said as I tried another code. I was starting to get frustrated by this infernal safe. I had bypassed all of the security at Buckingham Palace. Next to that a safe should be easy to crack, not that Mycroft was proud of my criminal skills.

"No, I mean, what are you two still doing down here? I got home and neither of you were back yet. It's been all day," John told us and Sherlock turned back to him and looked at him as I tried another code and grinned as there was a delay before the lights flashed red. Damn it all!

"Has it?" Sherlock asked John before turning back to me. "Interesting," He commented as he tried another code which immediately flashed red before he let out a curse under his breath.

"How stubborn are you gonna be about this?" John asked us and I turned back to him and raised one eyebrow, snorting at the army doctor in a very unladylike way.

"Have you met the Irish?" I asked him and he looked back at me in exasperation as Batonvert walked in behind him. Oh great he was back.

"Uh, excuse me? We're closing now," Batonvert told us and I looked back at him in exasperation and that was when long hours of sitting in a basement with a vault and trying to crack it open finally got to me.

"Green Stick, do you want your diamonds back or not?" I snapped at him and he took one look at me before he scurried away. Like I thought.

"Could you be a little bit nicer?" John asked me as he walked closer to us and I looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought I was being nice," I told John smiling at him slightly before cursing loudly in Gaelic as yet another code flashed red.

"Well I'm not going to leave you two here," John told us as he walked over to one of the pillars in the room and slid down it, grunting slightly as he straightened his leg out into a more comfortable position. Every so often it still bothered him but we had most cured him of his limp. John sat watching us work, and curse profusely, for a while before he nodded off. As he slept we continued to work until I found something quiet clever. I got up and walked over to John, shaking the army doctor awake, eager to share with him what I had learnt. He gasped as he woke up, disoriented.

"Oh, she thinks she's a clever one, doesn't she?" I asked John as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, Sherlock standing up and staring down at me as I knelt beside John.

"Who's she?" John asked me groggily and I gestured back the Leviathan.

"Her."

"What time is it?" John asked me as he looked around, still a little disoriented from sleep.

"She generates an ocean of pure randomness, and she wants you to just lose hope and drown in all those numbers, but I can see the horizon line. I can tread water," I told John as Sherlock put a hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Stop. It is 2:00 in the morning. You've been down here for almost, what, 17 hours?" John said as he got to his feet and stretched out his limbs which were no doubt more than a little sore at this point. I felt bad, knowing his shoulder was probably a bit stiff.

"So?" I asked him as Sherlock remained silent and just stared at me in interest.

"So, I'm not spending the night in a bank vault," John told me and I looked away from Sherlock and at him, flicking my gaze between him and the door.

"So, go then," I told him as I walked back over to the door and I tried another code only to get denied again.

"I'm not gonna leave you down here like this either. Your starting to sound crazy because you are sleep deprived and you need to rest because you still have a cold, so are you gonna admit that you can't think your way past that vault door or am I gonna have to smash the fire alarm and get us all dragged out of here?" John asked me and I looked back at him and Sherlock eyeing them. Sherlock looked rather amused by something and I narrowed my eyes at him though he stood unflinching under my gaze.

"You're absolutely right John. Sometimes I can disappear into the rabbit hole of my psyche. But it's all right, we're all mad here," I told the army doctor with a little grin and he sighed before nodding. Little did he know I had been more sleep deprived than this and I was still thinking rationally thank you very much.

"Okay, good, then you're ready to go," John said as he made a move for the exit. I cut him off before he could leave, Sherlock still standing where he was as if he expected this to happen. It was a little odd that he was just watching me and not saying anything, a bit like the old days.

"Would you mind terribly if I just tried one more idea before we leave?" I asked John and he groaned as I looked back at him expectantly. "It'll only take a minute," I added and he groaned again before sighing in exasperation.

"Fine," He told me and I grinned before walking over to the all where the fire axe was kept behind glass. I brought my army back and smashed the glass with my coat covered elbow so I wouldn't cut myself. I didn't need any more injuries.

"What are you doing?!" John shouted to me as I grabbed the axe from inside of the glass and stalked over to the Leviathan. "Oh, my God, put that down! Put that down!" John yelled at me as I brought the axe back and made quick work of destroying the key pad with it before straightening up and wiping my brow.

"Well, I feel a bit better now," I said as I turned back to find a completely exasperate and slightly red in the face army doctor and a consulting detective who was now staring at me, one eye brow raised as he tried to deduce me and why I had just done what I had. "Before either of you say anything, I would like to remind you both that I'm currently holding an axe," I told them, holding it up as I grinned slightly. Yeah, I might need a bit of sleep. Apparently destroying a safe with an axe is frowned upon, who knew. John sat in silence on the entire cab ride back to Baker Street as I curled up into Sherlock's coat and rested my head against his shoulder. I could feel his smile when he pressed his lips against the top of my head. The things that I did didn't surprise him anymore.

We got back to the flat and John scolded me for a bit before he had gone up to bed. I knew what I did was mental but it had made me feel a bit better. I had stayed up with Sherlock for a bit. We resumed our positions from the morning and curled up with a book, neither or us feeling like sleeping, but somehow the consulting detective fell asleep on my lap as I carded my fingers though his hair. My eyes started to droop and I felt rather comfortable as Sherlock radiated heat and his head became a reassuring weight in my lap. I woke up with a quilt thrown over me and I blearily lifted my head, blinking back sleep as the early morning light filtered into the living room of the flat. I looked beside me to find Sherlock gone even though I distinctly remembered falling asleep on the couch with him…again. I looked up at a suddenly nose to find Sherlock walking into the living room from the kitchen carrying to mugs of tea. I smiled at him, a silent judge of his reaction and he smiled back as he handed me my tea. It would appear that the consulting detective and I had met with an understanding. The two of us sat next to each other on the floor reading files, Sherlock reclining on his elbows while I leaned against his legs. It was in that moment in the quite flat, with a mug of tea and case files in front of me making it a perfect morning already, that I realized I loved Sherlock Holmes.

**John's POV**

John was not happy for being woken up two days in a row before he needed to be, especially since today was his day off. He was awoken by his phone, a certain company very unhappy when they came in to find their vault destroyed because some Irish psycho detective had decided to take an axe to it. Not that John would ever call her that to her face, but who did that? Not that he should be surprised any more. Lexi tended to do whatever she felt like doing. John sighed heavily as he swung his legs out of bed. As annoying, irritating, and exasperating as the two detectives were he still cared for them the bloody gits. He especially couldn't stay mad at Lexi for long. Sherlock was a different story. He was an insufferable, arrogant tit most of the time but Lexi was generally very sweet. In fact, this was the first time she had done something you could consider to be sociopathic activity. That label far from fit her, Lexi was the nicest girl he knew and so full of laughter most of the time. John got out of bed and made his way downstairs were he found Sherlock standing in front of the mirror pictures tapped to it all over again and Lexi was sitting in Sherlock chair with a cup of tea looking rather docile now and a lot less manic than she had the night before when she was wielding an axe.

"Did you give the people at Casterly Rock my cell phone number as your contact info?" John asked the detectives and Sherlock looked back at him blankly, Lexi just sipping on her tea and not meeting John's eyes.

"Hmm? Yes. I didn't want them to call me," Sherlock said as he waved John off and turned back to the mirror. "They're conversation is tedious and dull."

"Yeah, well, they're wondering who took an axe to their vault," John said looking at Lexi pointedly as the girl looked up at him sheepishly and nervously laughed before looking away. "Apparently the repair bill's gonna be huge."

"Cost of doing business with us. They'll get over it when we figure this out," Sherlock said and Lexi coughed loudly, the consulting detective looking round at her until she quieted. Lexi and Sherlock shared a look before Lexi took a sip of her tea almost obediently.

"I apologize for my behaviour last night John. I was a little bit sleep deprived and I wasn't thinking straight," Lexi apologized and John looked at her for a long moment before he nodded, accepting her apology. He honestly hadn't expected one. Lexi smiled at him slightly and he smile back to let her know it was alright, it was all fine.

"We need to figure out who broke into the safe; that's the way that we'll learn how it happened," Sherlock said suddenly, drawing the Irish detective's and the army doctor's attention back to him. Sherlock roughly pulled his fingers through his hair and John saw Lexi shake her head fondly before she got up and stood beside Sherlock.

"Well we know it wasn't an inside job. I checked this morning and everyone at Casterly Rock who knew how to get into that thing has given an alibi," Lexi told Sherlock sighing in frustration as John marvelled at the two detectives. Without seemingly noticing it themselves they were standing, mirroring each other's posture as if they were two halves of a puzzle.

"And I can't see how the original thieves would've needed a fifth conspirator. The four of them had all the tools they needed between them. No, obvious what happened. One of the original team sold the recipe for breaching The Leviathan to an outside party," Sherlock said as he crossed over to the dining table and sat down in front of his laptop, Lexi still staring at the pictures.

"That's obvious?" John asked Sherlock in disbelief. "It isn't obvious to me," John added when neither of the detectives answered him.

"When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, is the truth," Sherlock told John and the army doctor rolled his eyes at how terribly arrogant that sentence sounded.

"And what's impossible here is that you two couldn't break into the safe, but someone else could. In other worlds, you are the smartest man and woman in the world," John said sarcastically as the two detectives completely ignored him again. "Waiting for you to chime in and say that's ridiculous," John told them and Lexi shook her head, sighing in frustration.

"You would think it would be easy to get one of the four original team to admit that they sold the secret on. But Carter Averill, the man who organized the heist died in prison last year, and the other three have yet to respond to our request for a visit," Lexi commented before she walked over to Sherlock and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on. John's mobile rang again and John looked down at it seeing it was from Casterly Rock Security once again.

"You should answer that. Tell them it was a necessary part of our process," Sherlock said offhandedly as John ignored the call. He couldn't deal with this, not today. He had more important things to worry about than trying to clean up their mess. John got up, leaving the two detectives to whatever it was they were doing, not missing when they leaned in close to each other and started murmuring hurriedly.

John went upstairs and grabbed some clothes, a nice pair of trousers and a checked button up shirt, not what he normally wore, before he went downstairs for a hot shower. He turned on the shower before shedding his clothes and steeping into the scalding water. John sighed in relief as the hot water worked itself into his stiff and tired limbs. His shoulder was a bit stiff, it would probably be worse by morning. The weather was starting to get colder and that always made it act up a bit. John stood in the spray, letting the water wash over him for a long moment before he reached for the shampoo and squirted some out onto his palm, scrubbing it roughly through his short blonde hair. John had gotten a call that his mother was in town and she wanted to visit with him. He was supposed to meet her at some café an hour form now for lunch. John didn't particularly want to see her but he didn't have a choice. His relationship with his mother was…difficult to say the least. His father died when he was ten and his mother had raised him and Harry by herself. Harry had always been a bit of a handful and as soon as she was old enough she started drinking and never stopped. Despite all of John's attempts he never could please his mother. She had never approved of his decision to go to med school or join the army in able to pay for his college. So, when John say he definitely understood Lexi when she mentioned her childhood, he did. Of course, he knew there was a lot of stuff she wasn't saying but John got the idea that her childhood hadn't been very nice.

He stood in the water for a few moments longer before shutting it off and carefully climbing out of the tub, drying himself off. He pulled on his clothes and ran the towel through his hair before running a hand over his face. He had a bit of stubble and he probably could use a shave, but he didn't have time for that now if he didn't want to be late. If he was late he would never hear the end of it. John unlocked himself from the bathroom and crossed back through the living room, the two detectives arguing about something. John ignored them as he mounted the stairs back to his room and dumped his clothes into his hamper before he sat on his bed and bent down, retrieving his shoes and putting them on one foot at a time. John sighed heavily and sat for a second, rubbing his hand over the length of his face before he pulled himself up and trudged back downstairs. He pulled his jacket on at the door and he expected for neither of the detectives to even notice he was leaving but Lexi looked up and smiled at him as she held a paper behind her back that Sherlock was trying to get from her.

"You're going out?" Lexi asked John as she shifted the paper to her other hand as Sherlock demanded her to give it to him. She giggled and John stared at the two of them. He really was dealing with children.

"Yeah, I'm meeting someone for lunch," John told her leaving out the part where that someone was his mother. Lexi poked Sherlock before giving the detective the paper he wanted as he huffed and said something about her acting like a complete child.

"Have fun then," Lexi told John with a smile as she picked up her tea mug and walked into the kitchen. John nodded for a moment before he left the flat. He walked down stairs and hailed a cab. For the entire cab ride his jiggled his leg up and down nervously.

"You look like a man going to the gallows mate," The cabbie remarked and John looked up at him as the cabbie looked at him with pity.

"I feel like it," John told him before looking out the window again. The cabbie looked pitying as he dropped John off in front of the café and John paid him, the cabbie wishing him luck as John got out of the cab, already seeing his mother waiting in front of the door. It all went well for a while. He had hugged her, made small talk as he escorted her inside and they got seated at a table. So far she hadn't started in on him and John was starting to relax a bit. Maybe in light of everything that happened with Harry she was trying harder than usual.

"So, I'm in the cab on the way over, and guess who I hear from," John's mother said as his phone trilled his text alert. He looked down at it and gritted his teeth together as he read his text message which had popped up on the screen on his phone.

**Meet us at Pentonville prison if convenient. If inconvenient come anyway. - SH**

"Do you have to take that?" Mrs. Watson asked her son and he shook his head, hitting the button so the message would turn off on the screen.

"No. Go on," John told her, smiling pleasantly as he tried to ignore Sherlock's text message and get through this lunch with his mother.

"Your sister called," John's mother said excitedly. For all that Harry had done, giving their mother a hard time and being an alcoholic, she had always been their mother's favourite. It didn't matter that John had gotten good grades in college and had become a doctor, serving in Afghanistan. "She called me; do you know how rare that is? I haven't spoken to Harriet in, what, two months? She's coming to the city."

"Wow," was all John could say. He hadn't seen Harry in two months either. Not since he had crashed at her place for a few nights when he got back to England. It had been just after Clara left her and she had been mostly drunk or hung over the entire time he saw her. Last he heard she was trying to clean up her act though John wasn't holding his breath.

"She wants to have dinner with us tomorrow night," Mrs. Watson said and John nodded, humming in agreement before he registered what she had said.

"Wait, tomorrow night?" John asked her shaking his head quickly. "I can't have work the next day and I'm helping a friend…" John said before his mother cut him off

"This is your sister, John. I'm sure you can spare one night for her. Besides, it isn't like they would miss you if you didn't show up for work the next day," Mrs. Watson said and John sighed heavily.

"Okay, here we go," John muttered under his breath as his mother continued on with her tirade.

"If it makes you feel better you can bring your girlfriend. I'm sure she won't mind," Mrs. Watson said and John sighed heavily again as his phone trilled another text alert. This time he ignored it because he was in the middle of something.

"I don't have a girlfriend actually," John told his mother before instantly dreading saying that. And he had thought this was all going so well.

"Why not?" Mrs. Watson asked her son and John went to answer her but she cut him off before he got a chance to speak. "I've told you before John. You aren't a young man any more. You need to find a girl and settle down," He mother told him just as his phone rang. He flicked his gaze over to it and saw that it was Lexi calling him.

"You know, I'm just gonna get that, because it's just gonna mmmm," John said as he accepted the call and lifted his phone to his ear. "Hey, everything okay?" John asked Lexi trying to keep his voice light, so as not to give anything away. Apparently it worked because Lexi didn't say anything about it.

"Excellent, actually, except for Sherlock being completely childish. He wanted me to call you to tell you to meet us at Pentonville Prison at 2:30," Lexi told John as he heard her pull the phone away before he heard something that sounded like Lexi yelling at Sherlock.

"Why do you want me to meet you at Pentonville?" John asked Lexi as he heard her return to the phone after a sound that sounded almost like she smacked Sherlock.

"Charles Briggs, the lock-pick from the original team of thieves- he's agreed to sit down with us. We wanted you to come with us to the meeting. Unless you can't make it because of your lunch date," Lexi said and John could tell that she was suspicious of something. Of course she would pick up on something, he couldn't hide anything from them.

"No, I'll see you there," John told her and Lexi agreed before she hung up telling Sherlock, "Put it down!" John didn't even want to know what was going on inside the flat. Despite that thought he would rather be there than where he was currently.

"Pentonville, the prison? Why are you going there?" Mrs. Watson asked John as he put his phone down on the table.

"I'm helping out some of my friends who are consultants for Scotland Yard with a case. Listen, I have to go meet them," John told his mother, trying to make his excuses so he could get away. He would take his escape option now.

"Don't you dare leave," Mrs. Watson said as John got up and collected his phone.

"I'm sorry, but I don't trust them to go alone," John told his mother, pressing a dutiful kiss to the top of her blonde head. "I'll call you later," John told his mother and she glared at him angrily.

"You better and you better be there for dinner tomorrow with Harry," His mother ordered him and John nodded at her before saying goodbye and walking out of the café. When he got outside he took a deep breath before he stepped up to the curb and hailed a cab. He could really use a pint right now. Hopefully this case would keep him occupied for a while. If anything, at least Lexi and Sherlock had saved him from eating a very awkward and painful lunch with his mother. "Pentonville," John told the cabbie as he slid into the cab that had pulled up at the curbing. John watched the city of London pass by him as the cabbie drove across the city. Thank god for consulting detectives.


	42. There Goes The Neighborhood

**(A/N) Quick update! Sorry it's been crazy, just started back at Uni yesterday and already I am realizing why I loved being away. Homework abound, but here is another chapter for you sweeties! Until Saturday, Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty- There Goes The Neighborhood <strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I arrived at the prison before John and we waited with the guard until he arrived. After John had left the flat Sherlock and I started looking into the original group that had broken into the Leviathan. I looked closely at what each of their specialities had been, trying to figure out what skills a possible new group might have needed in order to do the same. While we were working I had gotten a call back from Pentonville prison and I was informed that Briggs was willing to sit down with the three of us at 2:30. After a quick change on my part into a nicer grey jumper we had left the flat and headed straight to the prison. Once John arrived we were escorted back to a visiting room and told to wait. While we were waiting I noticed a slight frown pulling at John's lips, one he was trying to hide. I deduced that something had happened to him on his outing, enough to make him upset. It wasn't his typical date went bad look or even annoyed that we had ruined his date look. This was something entirely different. When I had called him and told him to meet us I had noticed his voice was a bit off from normal but I hadn't said anything about it because it could be because he was with his date. I was starting to suspect that whomever he was with was not a potential girlfriend and someone else, someone he wasn't happy to see. Maybe an old army buddy? I decided to leave it for now and ask him about it later. We sat on one side of the table and Briggs was led into the room in handcuffs and made to sit across from us. I felt safe sitting in between John and Sherlock when they took his handcuffs off. One of the guards left the room, presumably to wait outside by the door while the other guard took up residence near the door inside the room.

"You said you want to know how we got into Leviathan. And you think for some reason, even though I kept my mouth shut during the trial, I'm going to tell you," Briggs said arrogantly as he reclined in his chair, Sherlock adopting his prayer pose as John crossed his arms in front of him. He was on edge, definitely watching Briggs cautiously though I doubted he would do anything. He was in here for robbery, not really as dangerous as a murderer but it was sweet to know he was looking out for us. I looked at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow at him.

_'Do you want me to take this one?'_ I asked him and he looked back at me pensively. He quirked his eyebrow slightly before making a slight moved with his shoulders in an almost shrug.

_'By all means,'_ Sherlock told me and I nodded before turning back to Briggs after getting Sherlock's permission to take this one. I didn't need his permission, but I thought it best to see if he wanted to be the one to question a suspect or not. I found that he often preferred for me to talk to them while he observed them and their reactions. It made for a rather good system.

"Well, you did agree to see us, which implies that you have a price. You're one of the best lock-pickers in the world, and I collect expertise, Mr. Briggs, people to help me with my consultancy work on an as-needed basis. I think I could find a use for a mind as lively as yours," I told Briggs as I folded my hands under my chin and rested my head on them. I did often acquire various people who were experts in certain areas in order to aid me in my work in a similar way that Sherlock had consulted Raz during our last case. I knew actors, computer hackers, history experts, it was good to have someone to consult when you needed more information for a case.

"You want me to work for the coppers?" Briggs scoffed, raising one eyebrow as John shifted in his chair beside me.

"No, I want to offer you a chance to use your brain. The mind is a very bad thing to waste and I suspect that this will be the only offer you get for the rest of your natural life to use your brain for something actually worthwhile," I told Briggs and we stared at each other for a long moment before he nodded his assent. "How did you get past the Leviathan door, and who did you sell your secret to?" I asked Briggs as Sherlock and I watched him closely. Briggs sat forward in his chair and got comfortable before he began.

"I don't know exactly how we got in. We were specialized. I was responsible for getting past the outer door. Averill figured out the code, but never told the rest of us how he did it. After he got sick, he told me someone got in touch with him. Averill said this guy wanted to know how he did it, and he was willing to pay. If you're saying that somebody else broke into one of those vaults, my guess is Carter saw an opportunity to get a little money for his family before he died, told the guy his secret," Briggs told us and I nodded. So this supported the theory of a fifth conspirator, but after the fact. If Averill sold his secret to getting into the vault that might mean that that this person was our thief.

"Who was it, this guy he sold the secret to?" John asked Briggs as Briggs sat back in his chair and shook his head, shrugging slightly.

"I only know an alias. Even if you never find this guy, which you won't is that enough to land me this gig?" Briggs asked me and I nodded in confirmation. Briggs sighed before he continued. "The guy who Averill said got in touch with him, everyone just calls him Le Chevalier. That's all I'm going to tell you," Briggs told us before he motioned to the guard and the guard knocked on the door. The second guard from the hall joined the first and they walked over at put the handcuffs on Briggs before they escorted him out. Another guard came in and escorted us out of the prison now that our meeting was over.

"Who is Le Chevalier?" John asked Sherlock and I as Sherlock popped the collar on his coat and walked with his hands in his coat pockets. He looked like he was deep in thought so I left him to think while I explained to John what I knew.

"He's known as 'The Knight' Lestrade was working the case… maybe five years ago. He's a thief, a notorious thief that has never been caught. I was close to catching him once, but Anderson got in the way of that. He steals precious artefacts, though not many people actually believe he exists. They think he's more like a Chinese whisper, I believe differently. He's stole a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and a collection of ancient Greek coins," I explained to John as we walked out of Pentonville together. Sherlock suddenly breaking out of his mind and taking one of his hands out of his pocket. He offered it to me and I didn't even turn my head away from John as I slid my hand into Sherlock's leather glove clad hand.

"So let me get this straight," John started as the guard behind us closed the fence and we started off down the street to find a cab. "This Le Chevalier guy, he's a thief who's allegedly stolen an original copy of Shakespeare's first folio, a collection of ancient Greek coins…."

"And Van Gogh's Pietà, among things," I added and John nodded before he continued.

"…And no one can give us a description of him? No one knows if he's European, American, or a leprechaun," John said before I looked at him indignantly as Sherlock found us a passing cab and hailed it from the curbing.

"Oi! I resent that statement," I told John and he rolled his eyes at me as Sherlock opened the door of the cab and let me slid in first. The boys got in after me and I leaned against Sherlock's shoulder as he sat beside me.

"You're trying to make a point of some kind," Sherlock said, eyeing me slightly and smirking in amusement. I grinned up at him and shook my head as I rested my head against his shoulder.

"It sounds like a fairy tale," John told us as Sherlock told the cabbie to take us to the Yard.

"Well, some people think so," I told John as I leaned across Sherlock to look at the army doctor. "But every story is based in fact. Every legend is based in truth. It does sound like a fairy tale but all five robberies attributed to Le Chevalier remain unsolved," I told John and he looked at me pointedly and pointed at me.

"And you asked Charles Briggs for the name of the man who bought the secret, and he gives you a legend, a man who might not even exist. You know, this is a snipe hunt. Briggs said it himself. No one's ever even come close to finding him," John told us in exasperation and John and I smirked at each other. I turned my grin of John and he looked back at me warily.

"You're forgetting one thing though, Watson," I told John before looking up at Sherlock who looked rather amused. John looked at me expectantly and Sherlock set his gaze on him.

"We've never gone looking for him," Sherlock told John with a smirk before we sat back, John staring at us dumbfounded. We hopped out of the cab and headed upstairs to my office in Lestrade's division so we could work. We managed to get past Donovan and Anderson without them seeing us and Lestrade raised a hand to us when he saw us enter my office from his own. I saluted him as Sherlock stalked in and took up residence in my chair as I sat on the desk beside him. John joined us a few minutes later, not looking happy and I realized that we had left him behind in our haste.

"Sorry John," I told him as he tiredly went to sit in the vacant chair in the back corner. "How about I take you to the pub later? You look like you need it and it can be my apology for being a bit difficult lately," I offered to John and he looked up at me after running a hand over his face and smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Sure, why not," John said and I grinned at him as I kicked my legs back and forth as Sherlock looked through my old files and found what I had on Le Chevalier before he got up to go bug Lestrade in his office for more case files. We didn't have to wait long for him before he returned with everything the Yard had on the last five robberies. We started looking them over and I delved into the case again. Anderson had contaminated evidence when I was working a case for Lestrade, Le Chevalier's third robbery. Because of Anderson's stupidity I was unable to solve the case and Le Chevalier got away.

"This painting was stolen the same night that the Aster Museum finally unveiled it to the public. Most people think it was Le Chevalier," I told John as I showed him the picture of three men talking in front of Van Gogh's Pietà which had been stolen before I moved to London.

"If he's real, this guy's got style," John said and Sherlock looked up at him despairingly as I looked at the picture more closely. I hadn't followed the case too much until I worked it myself. There had been two other robberies in the four years I had been gone and still no one had even come close to finding out who Le Chevalier was.

"This man is real," Sherlock told John who raised an eyebrow at him. "There is a singular sensibility at work here. You can't just sell these things on the black market. They're too unique for that," Sherlock told him as I held up the picture and looked it over with a magnifying glass to see if it was possible that I could find something.

"Hmm. Who's that?" John asked me as he pointed out the older gentleman in the picture who was standing directly in front of the Pietà. I drew the magnifying glass over his arm and noticed something rather interesting and possibly something rather telling.

"That is Peter Kent. He is head of the Kent Philanthropic Trust and leader of the fundraising drive that led to the acquisition of The Pietà," I explained to John before I pointed to his cufflinks, handing the picture over to Sherlock along with the magnifying glass. "Look at his cufflinks," I told the boys and they leaned in to study them. "They're fashioned from silver tetradrachms. They're Greek coins," I told them as I shifted through the pictures on my desk beside my leg and found the one I was looking for, holding it up next to the other picture. "Now look at the coins Le Chevalier stole," I told them as they compared them side by side.

"They're the same," John breathed and I nodded as Sherlock looked up at me proudly and smirked at me.

"Excellent work," He told me before he pointed to Peter Kent in the first photograph. "That's Le Chevalier and while Le Chevalier may be the stuff of legend, Peter Kent is listed in the phone book," Sherlock said gleefully as he got up and wrapped his coat around him tightly. "And I know where we can find him."

Lucky for us Sherlock knew every single street in London as well as I did. When I moved to London I had memorized every street, where every tube station was, and where many of the most important buildings were. It helped when you were the Irish girl moving to the new city. Therefore, we knew exactly where we were going to find the Kent Philanthropic Trust. We left my office, running into Donovan and Anderson and passing a few pleasantries with them, insults, before we ran out of the Yard. We hailed a cab and the three of us got in, this time with me sitting between Sherlock and John. We rode in silence as I snuggled into the seat, looking up at John and Sherlock from under the collar of my coat. I didn't know what I was going to do about John. He still looked unhappy and that simply wasn't going to do. No one hurt my Watson. Before I could take care of that I needed to work with Sherlock on this case. The Leviathan. I was seriously regretting that the only thing I had done to it was destroy it with an axe. It was infuriating that I couldn't crack the safe. That was why we needed to find this Le Chevalier guy that Averill had supposedly sold his secret to. We arrived at the Kent Philanthropic Trust and I paid the cabbie and slid out of the cab after John. We knocked on the door and we were shown inside by a woman.

Sherlock and I looked her over and deduced her immediately. She was in her late fifties, divorced. She owned two, no three small dogs given by the amount of dog hair on the bottom of her pants and the fact it came from three different breeds. She had one son who she recently had an argument with. No other family or none that she was close to, she had recently gone on holiday, and she had a lover much younger than her. "I'm sorry. I'm a little confused. You're here to speak with Peter Kent?" She asked us as she showed us into Peter's study to wait while she went to get him.

"Yes, tell him it's about Greek tetradrachms. He'll know what I mean," I told her and she nodded at me before leaving. Sherlock started eyeing all of the art in the room as John turned about the room, seemingly looking at everything as well.

"Is that a real Hopper?" John asked us, pointing to one of the pieces and I nodded at him, surprised he had known it. I didn't take John as being a man to recognize a painter after his comment about the circus being art, but then again everyone had secret hobbies. Sherlock raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it.

"Yeah, they're all original," I told John and he looked at the paintings interestedly before whistling slightly.

"You could buy an island with the art on these walls," John said and I giggled at that. Yes, you probably could. We could buy an island and name it Baker Street and we could all escape there. I could just see Mycroft on a beach with a mixed drink.

"Except that," Sherlock said pointing to a picture that was a reproduction of Van Gogh's Pietà. "That's a lithograph, worth maybe £40," Sherlock said as I walked closely and inspected the picture behind its frame. I noticed something off about it. One was that I could see some colour underneath the white border line around the picture that indicated that something was under it and two, the picture was wrinkled a bit as if the picture underneath it didn't exactly fit in the frame and was bunching up.

"He wouldn't be so brazen," I told Sherlock, shaking my head before I picked up a heavy horse statue made of some metal on the mantel piece. I brought it back at smashed the glass of the picture frame before handing the horse statue back to John who looked completely shocked as he held it. Sherlock suddenly handed me a pocket knife and I grinned at him before I poked a hole into the lithograph.

"What are you doing?!" John demanded as soon as he got over his initial shock. I ignored him as I cut a hole in the lithograph before I started pulling the paper away, revealing a second picture underneath which was certainly not a lithograph. In fact it was a painting and it was the exact same picture as the lithograph.

"Gentlemen I give you Van Gogh's Pietà," I told them as I handed Sherlock back his knife which he tucked into his jacket pocket before I stood back and viewed the painting. It was a slight moment of rapture for me. Van Gogh was my favourite artist, my favourite painting being his Starry Nights. As a girl I had loved running out to the crag by my family estate at night and lying on top of the rocks, staring at the starry expanse of the sky. Sometimes I could get lost in the shear amount of stars. Seeing an actual Van Gogh painting up close and not in a museum was breath taking. "Well boys, we found Le Chevalier," I told them as a young man ran into the room and looked between John who was holding the statue, more like paperweight, and then at the destroyed lithograph and the painting revealed behind it.

"What in God's name are you doing?" The man asked us and I looked to Sherlock wondering how he wanted to play this. Technically they had more to answer for than we did. One thing was certain, this man was not Peter Kent unless he had regressed many years or had a very good plastic surgeon.

"You're not Peter Kent," Sherlock said, looking him over, more like deducing him. I gave him a once over but didn't deduce him on purpose. Sometimes when it wasn't needed I tried not to read someone. It was useless information that got stuck in my head because I couldn't get rid of anything. I really didn't need to know who was having an affair or who had the younger lover.

"No, he's my father," The man told us indignantly and Sherlock clapped his hands together and smirked at him as he gestured to the Pieta.

"He's also a thief, as you can see. He stole The Pietà, and two nights ago, he robbed the Svalbard Diamond Exchange," Sherlock said and the man looked at him in confusion. It was actual confusion. Understandable. It was hard to figure your father was a thief, but this was something else entirely.

"Two nights ago?" Kent's son asked us and I nodded in confirmation while raising one eyebrow. We were missing something here. There was always something, but I could tell what it was.

"I know this may come as a bit of a shock, it does for most of the simple minded, but I assure you, that painting is genuine," Sherlock told him as John looked at him in exasperation. He was still holding the paperweight, not sure what he should do with it.

"Sherlock, behave," He hissed at the consulting detective and I smiled slightly at his attempt. He looked at me next and gave me the same warning look and I sighed. Behaving was no fun. Those that behaved rarely got anything done either. That was the whole reason Scotland Yard needed our help solving cases. They played by the rules while Sherlock and I disregarded them completely.

"I don't know anything about that, but I'm positive my father didn't steal anything two nights ago," Kent's son told us before he escorted us upstairs to a bedroom where Peter Kent lay in a hospital style bed hooked up to a heart monitor and various tubes. "My father had a stroke two years ago. He hasn't spoken or stood in more than 18 months."

"I'm very sorry for our mistake. You're right, he didn't rob the Svalbard Diamond Exchange two days ago, but he is a thief. That is in fact the real Pieta downstairs," I told Kent's son and he paled slightly, knowing the implications that would have for him and his father.

"Now we could call our little D.I friend at Scotland Yard…," Sherlock said, trailing off for dramatic effect. We already had a plan in place and ours was to offer him a little deal. We could care less about bringing the man to jail. He was your common thief, not a murderer. It was hardly worth our time to ever investigate him, but I had taken a slight interest in the case. "…or you could be a good boy and give us everything your father stole and we'll be on our way," Sherlock told him and Kent's son nodded in agreement.

"Good choice," I told him, patting him on the arm as Sherlock and I breezed past him. It took Sherlock and me less than half an hour to go through the house from top to bottom and find all five of the things Peter Kent stole. Some of the things were just left out in the open while others had been hidden as obviously as the Pieta. They were nice to wrap everything up for us in brown paper and stick it in a box and find a poster tube for the Pieta. John didn't want to get a taxi back to the Yard because he was nervous about sitting there with everything in the cab. Therefore it only seemed logical that we take the tube. John sat rigidly through the entire ride, but Sherlock and I stood quite at ease, the Pieta under Sherlock's arm. It took us a little bit longer to get to the Yard than a cab would have, but I wasn't really complaining. We exited the underground and started on the short walk from the tube station to the Yard.

"Alright, you were right," I told John, not afraid to admit I was wrong. John grinned smugly and I rolled my eyes playfully. "Charles Briggs sent us on a snipe hunt. I'll tell you what. I won't be using Charles Briggs as a consultant anytime soon," I told John huffing a little bit. "You just can't trust some criminals," I said and John snorted in amusement as Sherlock hummed an agreement,

"I can't believe I got on the tube with a Chopard watch. There are two hundred carats of diamonds on that thing! I don't even want to know how much it costs," John hissed at me and Sherlock and I looked back at him in amusement.

"The watch is £25 million. The Pietà almost twice that, if recent auctions are anything to go by. Got away with it, didn't we?" Sherlock asked John, smirking when the army doctor's mouth dropped in surprise at finding out the worth of what we were currently carrying. That didn't even add in the worth of the other three items Le Chevalier stole.

"Neither of us really wanted to put a stroke victim in jail, and Peter Kent's son doesn't really want the world to know what his father did for a hobby," I told John shrugging. That had been our entire motive behind just taking the stuff and handing it back to the Yard. Sherlock and I weren't completely heartless. Putting a stroke victim into jail would help no one and he was probably going to die soon anyway. Peter Kent's son didn't want the world to know his father was a thief and the Kent Philanthropic Trust did much to help the arts. Sherlock and I, both being musicians, could appreciate that.

"Yeah, it's the best solution for all parties. I'd like to hear you explain that in court. Your Honour, it's true. We abetted in grand larceny!" John hissed, his voice raising causing a very pedestrians to look at us funnily. I just smiled at them and kept walking.

"Court, yes," Sherlock said and he looked at me, really looked, and I understood where he was getting at. Oh! That was brilliant. Really rather brilliant.

"Well done, John. Brilliant!" I complimented the army doctor who had given us our new lead. This was exactly why I wanted to teach John. With enough time I could make a detective of him yet or at least impart some of my knowledge to him.

"What?" John asked us, his face screwing up in confusion. Yes, that was exactly it. A trial, a trial where members of the jury got to see all of the evidence, it was public. Someone could have pieced together a solution from what Averill testified.

"There was a trial. When the first heist team was arrested, three of them took plea bargains. But Carter Averill, the organizer, he tried his luck at trial. All the details of the original crime, they were aired in court, and no one knew exactly how the foursome got into The Leviathan, but it's worth going over the transcripts. There would have been expert witnesses, summaries of fact, someone could have pieced together the solution," Sherlock said before looking back at John who was looking at him in exasperation. I frowned. It really was a good theory. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Sherlock asked John quickly, defensively.

"Because I think the only reason you're clinging to this copycat theory is because you couldn't figure it out," John told us before looking at me as we reached the Yard and we hurried up the stairs together. "For all your hacking and breaking and entering skills even you weren't able to get into the vault," John told me and I rolled my eyes at him. I could get into the vault, but I needed to figure out what exactly they had done. I was missing a key piece of information. It wasn't a random code, it had structure. If I had time to attack the random number generator I might have been able to figure it out.

"I'm playing the probabilities. That's what I always do," Sherlock told John as he opened the door and we walked into the Yard. I stopped John and Sherlock then realizing something vitally important.  
>"Problem?" Sherlock asked me, raising one eyebrow.<p>

"Yeah actually. Gregson's division over saw the investigation on Le Chevalier," I told them and Sherlock cursed under his breath. "No, this might work. Lestrade would ask too many questions about how we found these, but I think I can convince Gregson to not ask. Sometimes when I would find evidence for him before we did it on a don't ask don't tell policy. He didn't ask where I found it and I didn't lie to him," I told the boys and Sherlock looked back at me, raising one eyebrow. He nodded after a second and I took a deep breath before we headed up to Gregson's division. This would have been easier with Lestrade, but Gregson was head of the division that went after Le Chevalier. He was the only one we could give this stuff to. We found him in his office and I went through an explanation about how we were investigating how someone could get into the Leviathan and we were put on the trail of Le Chevalier at which point we obtained what he had stolen. I also added in there that we need the transcripts from Carter Averill's trial and Gregson sent Bell off to get them for us as we talked with him.

"So, some priceless artefacts just came into your possession, and the fewer questions I have about said artefacts the better," Gregson asked me sceptically and I nodded at him as he eyed the three of us wearily, the box un packed in front of him while the Pieta remained under Sherlock's arm.

"Correct," I told Gregson smiling at him slightly. Gregson was good at some things. As long as I didn't give him a reason not to he would just do what I asked him too.

"And this just happened to be on the day that you were looking into Le Chevalier, and this happens to be the stuff that he stole," Gregson said and I sighed, nodding again. I knew that he wanted to know who Le Chevalier was, but I wasn't going to tell him. The less questions he had the better.

"And the culture will be grateful for their return I'm sure," Sherlock told Gregson as he moved to the door. "Lexi, John," He called as he opened the door and headed out, his coat billowing behind him like a cape.

"Mm-hmm. You're not leaving that?" Gregson asked Sherlock and Sherlock turned as Gregson pointed to the poster tube still under Sherlock's arm. I raised an eyebrow at him while John stared at him giving him the 'Don't you even dare' face.

"Oh," Sherlock said, chuckling and playing dumb which was really unconvincing coming from Sherlock. I could tell he was acting and I smirked slightly as John eyed him murderously, a look that thankfully went unnoticed by Gregson. "No, this is just something I picked up for my place," Sherlock told him before looking back to us again. "Lexi, John," He said again before he walked away.

"Like I said, less questions the better," I told Gregson one more time before following after the consulting detective. John walked just behind me, his face set into a hard line. I stopped at Bell's desk with John and he handed me the transcripts. I thanked him before we followed Sherlock outside. As we were standing waiting for a cab, John finally snapped.

"Sherlock what the hell are you doing?!" John yelled at Sherlock as the detective held his hand out to hail an approaching cab which slowed down as soon as it saw the three of us.

"Hailing a cab John, obviously," Sherlock said as he opened the door and slid inside. John turned around and smiled slightly, a look that I came to realize he only had on his face when he was angry before he turned and followed me into the cab. It was a rather tense ride back to Baker Street. John kept throwing murderous looks at Sherlock and the cabbie kept looking at my pityingly as I sat beside the fuming army doctor and the oblivious consulting detective. I didn't know what Sherlock's motive was behind taking the Pieta back to Baker Street but I wasn't questioning him. John and Sherlock were the first ones out of the cab as soon as we got back to Baker Street. I huffed in irritation and paid the cabbie before I ran after them and head upstairs to the flat where Sherlock was standing on the back of the couch, his coat and scarf thrown over the arm of it, as he pinned the Pieta up on the wall. This was not going to end well.

**John's POV**

"I'm not okay with this. Sherlock are you even listening to me?" John fumed as he stood behind the consulting detective. What the hell was even happening? Lexi was just calmly taking her coat and scarf off and hanging them up behind the door before she picked up Sherlock's and did the same with his. How was she okay with this?

"What, you don't like where it's hanging?" Sherlock asked him as he stepped off the couch by walking over to the coffee table and then down onto the floor on his path to get his violin. He picked it up and sat in his chair, pluck the strings, a sound which now grated of John's nerves.

"You stole a £50 million painting!" John shouted at Sherlock in exasperation as Lexi moved into the kitchen and started bustling about. He could hear her putting the kettle on for tea. She popped back into the living room and looked at him as Sherlock continued to pluck at his violin strings.

"We did not steal it at least not technically; we're simply delaying its return," Lexi said with a shrug before she popped back into the kitchen and John heard her pulling pots and pans out and the fridge opening. She returned to the living room bringing two mugs of tea which she passed out before returning to the kitchen.

"If I'm going to spend the evening reading court transcripts, I might as well do it in the company of a masterpiece. It really ties the room together don't you think?" Sherlock asked John as he drew his bow over his violin, eliciting a high pitched nose from it as the smell of cooking came from the

"Well, you're gonna send that back to the Van Gogh Museum…," John said as his mobile started ring. "…first thing in the morning," John finished as he looked at his caller id. Harry. He groaned as he sat down heavily in his chair and answered it. It was better to just get it over with. "Hey, Harry," John answered tentatively.

"Johnny! I'm so excited to see you. I miss you," Harry said, her voice bright and cheerful though there was a slight slur to her words. There went her attempt to quit drinking. Then again seeing their mother often made John want to drink too.

"I miss you, too," John told her falsely cheerful as Sherlock continued playing, going into a light cheerful tune that didn't match what John was actually feeling. He could hear Lexi humming along in the kitchen and John sighed heavily.

"Mom called me and said you were coming to dinner tomorrow and that you were brining your new girlfriend," Harry said chuckling. "Three continents Watson eh?" She asked him, still laughing. Whatever Lexi was cooking smelt good. John realized how hungry he actually was. He had skipped out on lunch to meet Lexi and Sherlock and then they had been running around London with them again. It seemed like every case ended up turning into that. Maybe he should start carrying snacks with him.

"My girlfriend!? No, I well…," John told her quickly trying to fix things, but Harry cut him off. Trust their mother to completely not listen to him. She was lost in her own little world where she ignored the fact that her daughter was an alcoholic and imagined that her son was exactly what she wanted him to be.

"Oh, come on, Johnny. Tell me you'll be there," Harry pleaded with him, her words slurring worse.

"Uh, I… yeah," John said, rubbing his hand over his face and sighing heavily. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be there," John told her mentally slapping himself for agreeing. His mother was expecting him to bring a girlfriend, never mind he didn't have one. Maybe he could call Sarah? He could try Nina, they had only gone on one date and he really didn't like her much, but he could put up with her for one night.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" Harry asked him and John found himself nodding along as he looked over his shoulder and into the kitchen where Lexi was dancing around, plating something up.

"Okay," John told his sister as he sat back in his chair. Why him?

"Love you," Harry said and John inwardly groaned. Great, now he was expected to show up. Why had he said yes? Why couldn't he say maybe? Well, because he was just too damn nice to people.

"Bye," John told her before hanging up as Lexi walked into the living room balancing three plates. She handed one off to him and Sherlock before pulling up a chair and sitting in between them. John looked down at his plate to find a pesto pasta with chicken that smelt delicious. He took a bite of it and sighed a bit as Sherlock only moved his own plate to the dining table and kept playing his violin.

"I know that face and it is not a good face," Lexi said as she took a bite of her pasta and eyed John carefully. John sighed as he took another bite himself. "Harry?" Lexi asked and John nodded. Lexi looked at him with understanding before she stood up and walked back to the kitchen. John continued eating as he heard Lexi cleaning up in the kitchen. She came back into the living room a few minutes later and took his empty plate from him. "Come on," Lexi told him as John stared up at her in confusion.

"What?" He asked her as Lexi disappeared into the kitchen and then returned to the living room and started pulling her coat and scarf back on.

"I'm taking you to the pub, get up," Lexi told him and John found himself complying as Lexi turned back to Sherlock who had put his violin down and had picked up the transcript of the court case which Lexi had thrown onto the coffee table before she went to make tea. "You behave," She told Sherlock who flicked his gaze up to her and raised an eyebrow, showing that he had heard her before he started reading again. Lexi took John down to the Auld Dubliner and over to the bar counter, taking a seat before she said something to Fergus in a very thick Irish brogue that John couldn't understand.

"Why are you doing this?" John asked her as Fergus came back with two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. Lexi opened the bottle and poured them each a drink before sliding one of the tumblers over to him. They each picked up their glasses and clinked them together before drinking it down.

"Like I said, I know that look when I see it. That is the 'help me' look that only comes from talking with family. You were making it earlier too. So, what is going on?" Lexi asked John as she poured them another drink. John sighed heavily and swirled the liquor around in his glass, still feeling the last bit of alcohol giving him a comfortably warm feeling in is chest.

"My Mum came to town and wanted to meet me for lunch today. She's never, well she's never really been there for Harry and I. Dad died when I was ten and Mum sort of acted like everything was perfect. Didn't even notice when Harry started sneaking alcohol. She didn't even acknowledge the fact that her daughter fancied girls. With me, she never agreed with me joining the military and going through med school," John said as before he drank down his second glass of whiskey, Lexi refilling his glass. "Now Harry is coming in to town tomorrow and she wants to have dinner with Mum and I but Mum said I was bringing my girlfriend. Never mind I told her today that I don't have one," John said, taking his third glass of whiskey and feeling comfortably numb now. Lexi was drinking as much as he was in fact she was on her fourth shot of whiskey.

"I can understand that. My father well, I told you he is a Lord. He expected me to marry someone like Mycroft who had ties in government and is posh and well to do and…exactly what I don't want. I love Mycroft but if he was my husband I would end up killing him. My father ignored me most of my life. He lived in his own fantasy that I was the perfect daughter he wanted me to be. My granddad was the one that got me into college when I was twelve. My father never listened to me and when I told him I was going to be a consulting detective he disowned me. The point is, sometimes, sometimes we have to forget about them and do what makes us happy because people like that are never going to be happy with what we do," Lexi told him and John nodded at her, sighing again as he took another drink before Lexi gesture for Fergus to take the bottle away.

"But what am I supposed to do? Sit with Harry who said she stopped drinking but clearly still is and my Mum who expects me to bring my non-existent girlfriend with me tomorrow night while they both have a go at me?" John asked Lexi and she shook her head before smiling at him in that way that made John slightly worried.

"No, you are going to sit with Harry and your Mum and me and I'm going to get you through this," Lexi told John, putting a hand on his shoulder. "John, I know what it is like meeting with family. Sometimes you need a buffer," Lexi told him and John sighed in relief.

"Thank you," He told the Irish detective, pulling her into a hug which she returned before he laughed. "I don't know how you do it," John told her, his brain feeling a bit fuzzy which was why he was suddenly saying what he hadn't but had been thinking for a while.

"Do what?" Lexi asked him, raising one eyebrow questioningly as she swallowed the rest of her last drink.

"This… you. You know when I met you, you were the strangest girl I had ever met, but you were brilliant. What you do, what Sherlock and you do is incredible. And you, you always just know what to say. Doesn't matter to you that my family is crazy, you offered to go with me to meet them," John said shaking his head, baffled at what he had done to meet the Irish detective who had changed his life so much in just a short period of time.

"Hey, everyone's family is screwed up. Look at Mycroft and Sherlock," Lexi said and John and her giggled. "I should get you back to the flat. You really don't hold your liquor well," Lexi said with another laugh as John stared at her for a long moment before frowning, his actions delayed. "How much do I owe you Fergus?" Lexi asked the man at the bar and he waved her off.

"Nothing for you lass. I've seen that look on your face enough to know when you need a strong drink," Fergus told her and Lexi nodded before she took John's arm and led the tipsy man from the pub. Lexi hailed them a cab and managed to get them back to the flat without too much bother. She grinned at him and shook her head as she hauled him up the stairs.

"Ah, Lexi," Sherlock said as Lexi managed to get John up to the top of the stairs. "You're intoxicated," Sherlock pointed out before looking back down at his court transcript which he was already part way through.

"Aye. I'll be down in a minute," Lexi said before she helped John upstairs to his room. She laughed as he stumbled slightly towards his bed, pulling his coat off in the process. John threw himself face down on his bed still in his clothes and groaned. "Yeah, I know mate," Lexi said as she took off his shoes and threw them down on the floor before throwing his blanket over him. "Brits really can't hold their liquor," John heard Lexi mutter as his eyes grew heavy and she started off down the stairs towards the living room. John smiled slightly before he fell asleep, feeling slightly better than before


	43. Along For The Ride

**(A/N)**

**Hello my sweeties****! I'm positing at nearly midnight my time. Check back tomorrow as I will be posting another chapter to celebrate the birthday of the 12th Doctor. Yes, Melody is a Whovian and tomorrow is DW day. I've got DW related snacks, tons of tea, Tardis blue everything, and so much DW stuff that I look like a Companion threw up on me.**

**Well, I had my eye appointment today and it isn't glaucoma which is good news but bad news is, we still don't know what it is. So, now I go for an MRI which is the next step to make sure it isn't a legion, tumor, or something not working right in my brain causing this. Still waiting for people to get off their arses and start working on getting me my contacts and new reading glasses which hopefully should make classes at Uni easier for me. My first week has been brilliant so far and I am staying positive. **

**Please all give a round of applause to the fabulous Mat and John my best mates from Bristol who make this story possible in more ways than you know. Mat has designed a t-shit just for me to cheer me up after today. Mat (aka Mr. Smith, inside joke as he looks just like Matt Smith) congratulations on the promotion and I wish you the best on your move to Cardiff. You and John had better find Torchwood for me. John, you'll make a bloody fantastic Gwen Cooper and good luck and stay safe on your transfer to the Cardiff police. Mat do what we discussed or I will fly over and kick your arse. John, everyone should love you! John has provided me with the correct vows for John and Mary's wedding, thank you, we'll call him the Vicar, for giving them over to John for me. I just finished the wedding scene in The Sign of Three! You know me, adding in stuff that was never in the episode. I bet you're curious now!**

**Kimmy, Owl, I love you two fantastic ladies. Thanks for supporting me. Dobry wieczór Kimmy. **

**And to all of my followers a large thank you. You have no idea how much this story has kept me going the last few months after finding out everything with my vision and learning how to deal with it. You are all amazing people and I believe it to be a great honor that you come back for every chapter that I post. I am honestly humbled by you all. For my fans in the UK, I will be taking my first visit to your beautiful London next summer. Maybe I can arrange to meet some of you wonderful people. I love getting to know you all. This isn't just me, it's a team effort, it's a group, it's the Baker Street Irregulars. We're all fans of Sherlock Holmes and I find it incredible that we all come together over something like this. Writing and reading are starting to become a lost art and one we should keep alive. Words are powerful.**

**You all have really amazed me, honestly. I went from thinking my writing meant nothing to realizing that it's a lot better than even I ever thought it could be. This has,as it always has been from the start, a story for each and every one of you. *Bows* Lexi is my alter ego and the person I strive to be. Thank you all for showing me that through her I can be more than I am. And now for the next chapter in the Leviathan. Don't forget to check back later for the conclusion of the Leviathan. One more chapter on Tuesday before we begin the Great Game next Saturday. Are you ready to meet the consulting criminal? -Melody aka. The Professor, Lord President of the High Council of the Time Lords. Thanks Mat for giving me my Time Lady name. Now stop telling me I'm smarter than you. Gallifrey Stands! Fantastic! Allons-y! Geronimo! Virtual Jelly Babies, Bananas, Jammie Dodgers, and Fish fingers N' Custard for you all!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty One- Along For The Ride<strong>

**John's POV**

John woke up to a slight headache and a dry throat. He groaned as he sat up in bed, still in the clothes he was wearing the day before. He suddenly remembered going to the pub with Lexi and drinking way too much whiskey, not that the Irish girl was affected much by it. John groaned before pulling himself out of bed and shuffling down the stairs. He found Sherlock in his armchair, as if he hadn't moved at all since last night, adopting his prayer pose. Lexi popped her head out of the kitchen as John went and sat heavily down in his armchair, rubbing his right temple slightly before Lexi popped out of the kitchen with a tray.

"Good morning. Coffee, yogurt, and assorted fruits," Lexi said as she place the tray in front of John. She grinned before taking a seat on the arm of Sherlock's chair, looking way too chipper this morning. No one should be that happy in the morning.

"Thanks," John told her, sighing tiredly as he picked up his coffee and took a sip of it, hoping the caffeine might help his headache. Why had he agreed to go drinking with her? How was it she could drink more than him and be fine? She was tinier than he was!

"Seven minutes for you to eat and drink, to shower and get dressed, should get us to the property clerk's office just as it opens," Sherlock said, opening his eyes and staring at John as Lexi played with the arm of her shirt which John noticed was one of Sherlock's button ups which she wore with leggings. What was with her stealing their clothes too?

"Why are we going to the property clerk's office?" John asked them as he got up and stretched, putting his tray down on the coffee table, still drinking his coffee.

"That's where they keep Exhibit C. Exhibit C from Carter Averill's trial. I want to have a look at it. The jury looked at it three separate times while they were deliberating," Sherlock told him as Lexi looked back at Sherlock. The consulting detective looked up at her and John could see that they were doing their weird eye thing again.

"Well, isn't that what the jury's supposed to do, look at the exhibits?' John asked them as Lexi and Sherlock both stood up in unison. Sherlock and Lexi shared a look again and John noticed Lexi raising her eyebrow before she turned back to John.

"This is a scrap of paper from the trash bag that the thieves' landlord gave to the police," Lexi explained to John, sharing what she and Sherlock had found. "It's a simple, handwritten note, a scrawled coffee order with the names of the criminals written next to the drinks that they wanted. Apparently, they made a Starbucks run while they were planning the heist. I would have too in all honesty," Lexi told John and he looked back at her in exasperation as Sherlock and Lexi pulled on their coats and Sherlock helped Lexi into her scarf.

"So? Thieves drink coffee, too," John told Lexi and she sighed rolling her eyes before she reached up and smoothed down the collar of Sherlock's jacket before tucking his scarf inside of it as he pulled on his gloves.

"Not my point," Lexi told him as Sherlock turned back to the army doctor, both of the detectives waiting by the door.

"The prosecution used it to prove that the four men were working together. After that's done, it's hardly a trove of information, is it? Why would the jury need to look at a coffee order three times?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor sighed. Yeah, alright it seemed a bit odd but it was just a coffee order. What could be so important about that?

"Fine, I'll go get my coat," John told them and Sherlock nodded before he took off down the stairs. John trudged back to his room and put his shoes back on and pulled his coat on, never mind changing his clothes. He walked back down to the living room where Lexi was waiting for him by the door and the two of them headed down stairs and outside where Sherlock was already waiting in the back of a cab. John shook his head as Lexi slid into the back next to Sherlock. This was going to be interesting.

**Lexi's POV**

We arrived at the property clerk's office and due to my call to Gregson, the evidence was already waiting for us. It paid to have a friend at Scotland Yard. After I had helped John to bed I had joined Sherlock in the living room and he had told me everything he learnt so far from reading the court transcripts. He had discovered that jury had requested to see Exhibit C, a simple piece of paper with only a hand written coffee order on it. I had been used to prove that the four men were working together, but asking to see it again and again was a bit odd. Therefore, we decided to see it for ourselves and find out what could be so important about a coffee order. We took our evidence into one of the examining rooms and I pulled the slip of paper out of its bag and looked it over.

"That looks like a coffee order," John sighed as I looked over the scrap of paper, Sherlock looking over my shoulder. "Three of them ordered soy. I'm surprised they were so health-conscious," John said sarcastically as I flipped the piece of paper over, inspecting the back of it. On the back of it there was just a bunch of random numbers and letters. "That looks like something your printer spits out when it's trying to test to see if it works," John told me as I held up the receipt and showed him what did in fact look like a bunch of computer nonsense. I grinned at him, having recognized it immediately.

"It looks like sheer nonsense because that's what it is supposed to look like. It's a programming language called "Malbolge. It was designed to be impenetrable. The language's creator named it after the eighth circle of hell in Dante's Inferno. Now, there are few people in the world who can even recognize Malbolge as anything other than gibberish. Fewer still who can write software using it. I know what it looks like, but I don't know how to translate it. I learned about the language from a consultant I used in America when I was working a case. She was the one of the two people who taught me how to hack computers. She should be able to get us a translation soon as I've sent it off to her. The important thing is it's a message and it was hidden in plain sight throughout the trial," I told John and Sherlock, proud that I had recognized it. My consultant in America had taught me as much as she could in my limited time over there. I could recognize the Malbolge, I just couldn't read it myself. If I was lucky she would be able to get me a translation back by the end of the day but I knew she might be busy with her own work for the FBI and then the time difference of five hours didn't help either. It would be around four o'clock in the morning in Quantico so I would have to wait until she came in to work before I heard back from her.

"Do you think someone from the jury recognized it?" John asked me and I nodded as I looked back to Sherlock, sharing a long look with him. That was exactly what I thought, what we thought. If I could recognize the computer code, so could someone else. Few people knew it but the odds were that someone did.

"Why else would they ask to see a coffee order again and again? " I asked John as Sherlock started looking through the files of every one of the jurors quickly, interested only in what their occupations were listed as.

"Here you are. Justin Guthrie," Sherlock said as he handed me over the proper file and pointed to the listed occupation. "Unemployed at the time of the trial, but listed his previous occupation as "software engineer. Shall we see if he's familiar with Malbolge?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded. It was a good start and a software engineer was our best bet.

"So what do we do if this guy Guthrie says he doesn't know what you're talking about?" John asked us as Sherlock and I made to leave, pulling our coats back on, Sherlock helping me into mine.

"Well, then we can start by seeing if he's got any diamonds lying around," Sherlock told him with a smile before he walked out of the room. "Lexi," He called and I looked at John who gave me a withering look before I shrugged and ran to catch up with the consulting detective. We were closer to finding out who broke into the Leviathan and I had a plan to help John with his family troubles. So far the day was going well and it was barely even ten o'clock yet. Now all we had to do was find out how Guthrie was linked to the case and go from there. I slipped my hand into one of the consulting detective's before slipping my other hand into that of the army doctor's who had caught up with us. Both men had smiles on their faces as we walked out together but each for a completely different reason.

Now that we had a lead in the form of a certain Justin Guthrie we had something to finally go on that wasn't a snipe hunt. We also had to wait to hear back from my contact across the pond to figure out the meaning of the Malbolge. I knew she would come through for me. I hadn't consulted her in a while, but she said her computer was always open for business when it came to me. Therefore, due to the fact that we had to wait, I forced Sherlock and John to stop for breakfast first. More like forced Sherlock too, John was quite happy that we were stopping for a bit. John wasn't used to working a case for hours without stopping to eat or rest. It was a routine that had been easy for me to fall into again and Sherlock was already used to it. That was how I found myself an hour later drinking tea as I munched on a large stack of pancakes, John sitting across from me enjoying a full English breakfast. I managed to get Sherlock to eat a few bites of my breakfast as he nursed his own mug of tea beside me, not too happy that I was making him wait. I kept him occupied by having him deduce the other diners for me. I loved hearing his deductions as much as I loved making my own. While we sat waiting for breakfast I had contacted Gregson and got the address to the home of Guthrie. Lucky for us he lived close to the tube station so after breakfast the three of us took a walk over to the nearest tube station to us and rode the rails. As we walked out of the underground and headed down the street to Guthrie's flat my phone finally rang. I smiled as I looked down at the caller ID before I answered the phone, putting it on speaker phone as the three of us stopped.

"Isn't this spooky?" The girl on the other end of the phone asked me, her American accent quite prominent, and I shook my head. John and Sherlock gave me odd looks as I grinned.

"What is?" I asked her and I heard her come closer to the phone on her end.

"That right now you are thinking about me and out of the blue your phone rings," The girl told me as Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me. I ignored him as I laughed. I was more than used to her behaviour by now.

"Hey Baby Girl," I greeted my old friend and I heard her laugh on the other end.

"Penelope Garcia's house of how may I save your ass today. Are we talking PG or NC-17?" Garcia asked me and John looked at me in surprise. I shook my head. Penelope Garcia, my American contact who worked for the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit at Quantico as a Tech Specialist. Originally she was a hacker before she got picked up by the government and then she turned around and started working for the government.

"You're on speaker phone," I let her know and I could hear the eye roll in her voice.

"I do charge extra for groups you know," She reminded me and I nodded with a laugh as John started to go pink around the ears. Sherlock looked merely intrigued by the conversation we were having.

"Hey who's on the line Baby Girl?" I heard someone ask in the background and my grin grew wider.

"Our brilliant, sexy goddess from across the pond," Garcia told the asker and I snorted and rolled my eyes at Garcia's title for me. John was looking at me curiously now and I shrugged, not meeting Sherlock's eyes as he studied me closely.

"Put her on speaker," The man asked before I heard him clearly coming through my phone. "Hey sexy lady, you're on speaker, behave," The voice of Derek Morgan told me and I rolled my eyes again.

"I always behave, it's you I have to worry about," I told Derek and he laughed in response.

"Sure you do. I still remember a certain night that you took Garcia and Reid drinking," Morgan told me and I shrugged. That had been after work.

"Oh don't you wish you had been there to take advantage of me?" Garcia asked Morgan and John cleared his throat awkwardly as Sherlock's eyebrow raised higher into his hairline. I looked up at them and then back at my phone before shrugging. Yeah, they were a little….

"Not that I don't love this Garcia, but what do you have for me?" I asked her and I heard her groan.

"Ugh, you are no fun. Your Malboge was easy enough to translate and I am sending you a copy of the translation as we speak. Want to tell me what this is for because correct me if I am wrong but this doesn't sound like something a writer would need to know," Garcia asked me and it was my turn to groan.

"I'm taking cases again," I told Garcia and I heard her take in an over dramatic gasp of air.

"What? My sexy soul sister is working cases again and didn't think to call me?" Garcia asked me sounding scandalized. This conversation was starting to get awkward.

"I've been busy. I'm not working alone this time," I explained to her and then I realized that I had opened a whole can of worms for her.

"Momma is getting some!" Garcia said and I sputtered as John smirked at me, Sherlock looking rather amused as I blushed.

"Alright Baby Girl, lay off of her," Morgan said, saving me from Penelope. Thank God for her handler.

"Hey is that Lexi?" I heard someone say. I grinned in excitement.

"Hey Spence!" I said and I heard him come closer to the phone. Spencer Reid, a man that had become a good friend of mine. Spencer and I had worked closely together on the case I worked for the FBI.

"This is perfect actually. I was already thinking of calling you. Can I ask you a question?" Reid asked me as he sat closer to the phone.

"Sure, what do you need?" I asked Spencer as Sherlock looked at me curiously again. There was another emotion in his eyes I couldn't place.

"I need to know where this quote came from. Our Unsub left it on a note at the crime scene of our first victim but I can't place where I've heard it before. 'He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall'," Reid read out to me and I thought about it for a long moment before responding.

"Edgar Allan Poe's The Masque of the Red Death. 'And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.' Your Unsub might be using some kind of poison to kill his victims in a similar manner in order to recreate the story," I told Spencer and he mumbled something.

"How did you know the first victim was poisoned?" He asked me and I laughed.

"Good guess, besides, you know how I work," I told Reid and I heard him laugh.

"Hold on, you lied to me. You said you already knew where the quote was from," Garcia said and I shook my head. Reid was in for it now.

"It wasn't a lie," Reid told her quickly.

"Then what was it?" Garcia asked him.

"Second opinion," Reid told her and I laughed. Yeah, second opinion. Reid didn't often ask for one unless he really didn't know what he was doing.

"Your Lexi's bitch now," Garcia said and Reid stuttered, it was obviously a conversation they had had earlier.

"Alright, this has really been fun, but I have to get back to my case and I am sure you have to get back to yours. Thanks for the translation Garcia," I told the spunky blonde. "Say hi to the rest of the team for me," I added as it had been a long time since I had talked to them too.

"Will do baby girl, try to say safe," Morgan told me and I nodded at that.

"Thanks for the help," Reid told me before Garcia dominated the phone again.

"Call me soon. I want to know every sexy detail," Garcia told me and I sighed in exasperation.

"Maybe," I told her with a laugh before hanging up. I looked up at the boys who were eyeing me closely as I shuffled uncomfortably. "So um, yeah, that's Garcia," I told them awkwardly.

"Sexy goddess from across the pond? Care to explain?" John asked me with a smirk and I glared at him murderously. He couldn't just let it go.

"Shut it Watson," I warned him before I sighed heavily. "Back before I left I was contacted by Mycroft. The FBI wanted my help as a consultant on one of their cases because I had been recommended to them by another old friend of mine Joanie who could have translated the Malboge for me too, but I don't know what she's doing right now so it might not be a good time to contact her. Anyway, I agreed and I took the case. The case was of a serial killer who was mimicking Jack the Ripper. I wrote my Criminology Doctoral thesis on him so I was considered a bit of an expert and I had worked with Scotland Yard. I got to work with the BAU on the case. Garcia is their Tech Specialist. Morgan and Spencer are two of their special agents. Spencer and I became partners on the case. He has an eidetic memory like I do. He also was held hostage on one case and was made to take drugs. Only difference was I was an addict before and he became an addict after. I helped him get clean as I tried to help myself. Garcia was the one who taught me a good part of my hacking skills. I have Joanie to thank for the rest of that. Every so often I get a call from them if they need a second opinion. They were impressed with what I could teach them about deductions and they taught me how to profile," I explained as I opened the text Garcia had sent me of the translation. "That's it. Just like I thought. They attacked the random number generator," I told the boys excitedly as I showed them the translation which was an equation.

"That does not say, they attacked the random number generator," John told me and I sighed in exasperation and looked at Sherlock hopefully. The consulting detective was watching me with interest and he hadn't spoken since Garcia's call which could either be a good or a bad thing.

"Please tell me you understand it?" I asked Sherlock and he nodded as we started walking again.

"Obviously," He told me with a smirk and I grinned back at him before looking at John to explain to him.

"It's an algorithm, John. This is how the first team of thieves got into The Leviathan. The vault's software is designed to spit out ten random digits every two minutes. This makes it impossible to predict the access code at any given moment. The genius of the original plan is this algorithm. They hacked the software, fed the equation into it. It spits out escalating multiples of the number pi every two minutes. Pi is infinite, so if you take a ten-digit sample, the numbers still appear random, but if you know the algorithm, you can predict the code," I told John and he nodded in understanding.

"Even after you leave, it still looks like the software is functioning perfectly?" John asked us and Sherlock and I nodded. It was very clever of them. The code still looked random so the software looked like it was functioning properly, but they had still attacked the random number generator. Thus, no one could figure out how they had gotten into the Leviathan in the first place.

"Justin Guthrie must have translated the Malbolge, realized that he had the key for cracking The Leviathan, any Leviathan," Sherlock said and I looked up at him sharing a look. Guthrie figured out what we had. With this information I could even break into a Leviathan.

"So, a guy on the jury planned a $40-million heist?" John asked us sceptically and Sherlock huffed at him as he took one of my hands out of his coat pocket and offered it to me. I took his warm hand and grinned up at him. He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Well, he had help, obviously. But that's exactly what he did. When you've eliminated the impossible, John, whatever remains …," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.

"Yeah, you said that already," John told him shaking his head in exasperation as we made it to the front of the building Guthrie lived in. There was police tape across the door and a Scotland Yard detective was standing in front of it.

"Sargent, we need to get into the building," I told the man as the three of us stopped in front of him.

"Sorry, ma'am, no can do. This is an active investigation," The Sargent told me, halting our progress. Sherlock sighed in irritation as John looked up at Sherlock in exasperation.

"We're consultants with Scotland Yard, and we need to speak to one of the tenants. His name is Justin Guthrie," Sherlock told the Sargent who looked back at us, raising one eyebrow as he looked over the three of us.

"You said Guthrie?" He asked us and I nodded as Sherlock rolled his eyes. I looked up at him pointedly and squeezed his hand slightly to calm him down. There was no sense getting irritated over something like this.

"Yes. Shall I spell it for you? G…," Sherlock started in, talking to him like he was an idiot before the Sargent cut him off.

"No, but considering he's the one we're here for, you might want to talk to one of the detectives. Mr. Guthrie jumped out the window of his apartment a little while ago," The Sargent told us before letting us inside. The three of us shared a look before we headed up the stairs. One of the detectives told us that Guthrie had been found by one of the neighbour's impaled on the fence out in the shared garden behind the block of flats. We were told that Gregson would be arriving soon and we could go up to his flat and look around if we liked while we waited for him.

His flat was rather well kept. He was obviously a man of enough means and he had a baby grand piano taking up much of the space in the living room. We pulled on our latex gloves before we started our investigation around the room, inspecting every inch of it. Sherlock and I discovered blood on the floor right by the window that Guthrie supposedly jumped out of. We shared a look of understanding. Guthrie didn't jump, he was pushed. The couch was a few inches out of place and the rug was slightly scrunched up. An altercation had taken place here. Guthrie knew whoever attacked him though as there were no signs of forced entry. That supported our theory that he wasn't working alone. So someone on his team wanted him dead. I crossed over to the piano and ran a hand over the keys.

"Do you play?" Sherlock asked me noticing my inspection of the instrument and I looked up at him and smiled slightly as I sat down at the piano bench.

"I used to," I told him before I hit the first key, producing a high C note. The piano was perfectly in tune. I ran my fingers over more keys before I started actually playing. "Alistair was this old friend of my Mum's and he was like a second father to me and he taught me how to play when I was a girl. My mum used to play. I got into playing the viola more, but I would still play the piano every now and then," I told Sherlock as I continued playing, John joining us from the kitchen to watch my performance. The melody was slow and sweet and one that I remembered playing often. (**A/N She's playing River Flows In You by Yiruma)**

"It's beautiful," John told me and I grinned up at him. It was nice to know that after so long I could still play. It was like a muscle memory. The three of us looked up as Gregson and Sargent Bell walked into Guthrie's flat as I continued to play.

"So the precinct detective says this is a suicide, but you think that he stole $40 million in diamonds and then got killed behind it? So what's the story?" Gregson asked us, having obviously spoken with the detective downstairs who we had told our theory to about Guthrie. I stopped playing and looked up at Gregson and Sargent Bell as Sherlock answered him.

"Obviously, a violent altercation took place. Blood evidence. Myself and Lexi found it and examined it closely. Spatter pattern indicates it's a high forced event," Sherlock told Gregson who looked at him in confusion not getting his meaning.

"He's saying the blood came from someone who was hit in the nose," John explained, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock as if asking him, 'Was that really that difficult to say?' Sherlock rolled his eyes at the army doctor and I shook my head fondly at the both of them.

"Okay. It's worth looking into. I still don't see the connection to that robbery," Gregson said looking to me, but I gestured to Sherlock to take this one. I was still working on getting Gregson to work with Sherlock and trust his deductions as well.

"I was just thinking about that when you arrived. The answer, of course, lies in those vases. These two have three layers of decorative rock, each one a different colour. This one has two layers, but the mineral residue on the glass indicates that it was full till very recently," Sherlock said as he strode across the room to the table that the vases were on. I got up from the piano bench and joined him, standing by his side.

"Many of the stones stolen from the Svalbard Exchange were uncut diamonds. They happen to look exactly like decorative rocks. Now, if you'd just stolen some, this vase would be an ideal hiding place. We're guessing that whichever co-conspirator just relieved Mr. Guthrie of his share of the diamonds thought the same thing," I told Gregson as Sherlock picked up the vase that had only two layers and started dumping it across the table.

"He was, however, in a hurry. He might have missed one, human error," Sherlock said as he plucked a rock from the mix that was clear and shaped differently from the rest. I was no gem expert but it looked like diamond to me. I grinned at Sherlock as he looked up at me in triumph.

"You're telling us that's an uncut diamond?" Gregson asked Sherlock and I nodded at him in confirmation as Sargent Bell took it from him and put it into an evidence bag. "Let's get some more detectives down here. I want to start a full-scale canvass. Looks like we have a murder on our hands," Gregson called out to the other detectives waiting outside the flat. John looked down at his watch before looking over at me.

"Look, it's almost 6:00. We have to start getting ready," John told me and I looked at my own watch in surprise.

"Oh, right. Dinner with your family," I told him before turning to Sherlock. "You got this on your own for a few hours?" I asked him and he raised an eyebrow at me questioningly as I pulled off my gloves.

"Obviously," He told me and I grinned as reached up on tip toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw line which was the only place I could reach. He looked down at me curiously and I patted his arm before I made towards the door with John.

"We'll see you back at the flat later. Behave," I told him and he rolled his eyes as I sent a wave of goodbye to Gregson and Sargent Bell. John and I made our way out of the building of flats and hailed a cab back to Baker Street.

"Thank you, for this. I know you've got a case on…," John started before I cut him off.

"John, you don't have to thank me. I want to come," I told John, reaching across the cab and squeezing his hand. He grinned back at me sheepishly as we finally made it back to Baker Street. I paid the cabbie even after John's protest and we made it up to the flat. I pulled off my coat and draped it over the back of John's chair with my scarf. "So what is the dress code for dinner?" I asked John as I flicked on the kettle. A cup of tea while getting ready would be nice.

"Knowing my mother, everything short of suit and tie," John told me with a grimace as he leaned against the kitchen counter as I pulled two mugs down from the counter. "Look, um, she might be a bit…rude. I want to apologize to you in advance," John told me nervously rubbing the back of his neck as I poured the water into our mugs and set the tea bags to steep.

"I've had dinners with Mycroft and I've dealt with Anderson and Donovan. Next to them your mother should be a real charm. Besides I survived my father," I told John as I handed him his mug of tea. "Don't worry, she can't scare me off that easily," I told John, squeezing his shoulder before taking my tea with me back to my room.

I chose a black dress with long sleeves that would cover the stitches still on my arm which thankfully only had a bandage over them now instead of the gauze. The dress was modest with a high neck line and it went well past my knees. It said classy, but not overdressed. I pulled it on before I searched and found a pair of black ballet flats in my closet. I was already taller than John, I didn't need to tower over him. Once dressed I crossed over to the bathroom with my mug of tea, the sounds of John moving around upstairs reaching my ears. I plugged in my curling iron and drank my tea as I wanted for it to heat up. I poked at the cuts on my forehead, wincing slightly. Good thing I invested in good foundation as the bruise on my jaw looked very lovely. I quickly curled my hair, stopping every now and then to take a sip of tea before I split my hair in half and braided each side into a fishtail braid. I pulled the hair a bit before twisting both braids into a sophisticated updo and pinning it back. I quickly put on some foundation, happy that it covered most of the bruising. Unless you knew it was there you wouldn't actually be able to notice it all that much. I added just a bit of brown eyeliner and blush with some tinted lip balm and I was ready to go. I returned to my room and grabbed a small handbag from my closet and threw my mobile and my wallet into it before I walked out into the kitchen and set my mug down into the sink. John was already waiting in the living room and he had his back turned to the kitchen as I walked into the living room.

"What do you think? Watson seal of approval?" I asked John with a grin and he turned around to look at me before I saw him grin.

"You look lovely," John told me as he picked up my coat and helped me slip into it. He handed me my scarf and I tied it around my neck before I waited for John to get into his coat. The two of us walked down stairs and we waited as John tried to hail us a cab, failing miserably. I stepped out and whistled loudly at a passing cab who finally slowed down for us. John shook his head at me but opened the door for me like a gentleman and letting me slid in first. John gave the cabbie the address to the restaurant we were meeting his mother and sister at and then we reverted to nervous silence.

I wasn't too worried about meeting Harry and John's mother. I was good with meeting new people and I was making it my mission to finally get John's mother to realize just how important her son was. My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my hand bag and checked it as John looked over at it curiously. I held up my phone to show him the text Sherlock had sent me. "Apparently we're awaiting the results of the DNA tests on the blood," I told John who shook his head at me.

We arrived at the restaurant and John paid the cabbie, not listening to my protests this time, before he helped me out of the cab and offered me his arm as he led me inside. We told the maître d' who we were meeting and he led us back to a table where John's mum and Harry were already sitting and talking. They both got up as we joined them and Harry gave John a big hug with a cry of "Johnny!" After the obligatory hug, John pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek before looking back at where I was standing with my hands clasped in front of me, waiting. I was actively trying to not deduce either of them for John's sake.

"You must be John's girlfriend," John's Mum said as she looked me over with a critical eye. I could see John's cheeks turning red as he looked at me in embarrassment. He was about to step in before I stepped forward and put a hand on his arm to stop him, offering my other hand to Mrs. Watson.

"His friend actually. John is way too good for me," I told Mrs. Watson as I shook her hand.

"Well I wouldn't say that," John stammered and I elbowed him in the ribs covertly as I introduced myself to his mother.

"Lexi MacKenna, it's a pleasure to meet you," I told the older woman and she eyed John questioningly. "And you must be John's sister Harry," I continued as Harry, instead of shaking my hand, pulled me into a tight hug.

"Johnny sure choses his friends well," Harry said winking at me as John cleared his throat awkwardly. I laughed and allowed John to pull my chair out for me. He helped me out of my coat and put it on the back of my chair before I sat, pulling off my scarf and setting it on the back of the chair in the process. John took the seat next to me as John's mother and Harry took their seats again.

"How did you two meet?" John's mother asked me and I looked at John and grinned as he looked uncomfortable. I squeezed his knee under the table and gave him a meaningful look to relax.

"Well, it's actually a rather funny story. See I know Mike Stamford who is an old Uni buddy of John's and we were having lunch together when we ran into John. We got to talking and found out that John like me was looking for a flat mate and Mike introduced us to another man and we all ended up becoming flatmates together," I told Mrs. Watson and she raised an eyebrow at me.

"So you live together?" She asked me as Harry wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"Yes, but the three of us are hardly in the flat anyway," I told her with a laugh as John relaxed beside me as he realized I could handle all of his mother's questions. The waiter came over to take our drink orders and I could tell that John wanted alcohol, but couldn't order it because of Harry. "Later," I whisper to him conspiratorially as we both ordered water. John grinned back at me slightly and shook his head at how I had guessed what he was thinking.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Harry asked me with interest and I looked up at her over the top of my menu which I was perusing. This restaurant was more than a little expensive and I rather doubted that John's Mum or Harry were expecting to pay which meant that they would leave it to John. Well, that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm a consulting detective," I told Harry and John's mother raised an eyebrow at me.

"I've never heard of that before," She said with a sniff and I shook my head quickly, a grin still plastered on my face.

"No, I expect you wouldn't. I'm one of only two in the world. I invented the job," I told her and she shot a look at John who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously waiting for his mother to say something. "Basically when the police are out of their depth on a case they come to me or my colleague and we consult on the case for them," I told Harry and Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Watson stared at me.

"The police don't consult amateurs," She scoffed and John tensed beside me as I just looked back at Mrs. Watson with a little smirk.

"You're right, they don't," I told her pointedly and Harry laughed at that as the waiter chose that moment to come back to take our orders. I ordered the lobster and cheese ravioli in a vodka crème tomato sauce while John got the steak I knew he was eyeing. Harry ordered the lobster while Mrs. Watson decided on the salmon, two of the most expensive things on the menu. They were obviously playing up John's kindness. I got my phone out and texted John under the table and he looked over at me as he subtly took his phone out.

**Dinner is on Mycroft-L**

John looked up at me and frowned in confusion and I grinned back at him and nodded. He shook his head slightly as Harry started the conversation up again. "So what sort of things do consulting detectives do?"

"Well, we solve cases. You might have heard about the serial suicides case a little while back," I said and both Harry and Mrs. Watson nodded at me. "I worked that case with my colleague. Actually John worked that case with us too," I said and John nodded slightly as his mother and Harry looked back at us in surprise.

"Oh?" Mrs. Watson asked as she looked at John. "You didn't tell me about that," Mrs. Watson said and John shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze like a child being scolded.

"No?" I asked her before looking back at John. "Well we've kept him busy lately. So Sherlock, that's the other consulting detective, and I figured out with John's help that all the suicides were actually murders and then John helped us find who the killer was," I explained and John smiled and me embarrassedly as I praised his work.

"I just helped out a little," John said as Harry leaned in closer, listening to every word while John's mother remained unimpressed.

"He was instrumental in solving that case. He also went to the trouble of saving my life. You see, Sherlock and I got into a spot of trouble and we found ourselves kidnapped and in the same situation as the rest of the victims. John showed up and saved the both of us. That was only the first time. He's saved my life three times now I think, the last being recently too," I said as Mrs. Watson and Harry nodded, Harry with actually interest. "John just helped Sherlock and I solve the case of two murders and help us discover a Chinese smuggling group. He even saved a girl's life. Quite a promising detective in his own right," I told Mrs. Watson, my accent slipping out slightly and John looked over at me his cheeks tinted slightly red.

"I'm not a detective. I just, I'm along for the ride for a while," John said and I slapped John's arm playfully.

"You're being modest. That's not the only cases he's helped me solve. I admit I've stolen him away a lot. It's very beneficial to my work to have a doctor with me. Hard to picture what he does, isn't it? Saving lives daily. Solving crimes now," I said with a grin and Mrs. Watson looked at John curiously.

"I've never thought of it that way," She said quietly and I nodded, patting John's arm slightly as his eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"Of course you haven't. You've raised a modest son. He would never say such a thing. He really is very important to my work. Besides having a live in doctor is certainly a necessity in my line of work," I said with a laugh and Harry joined in as even Mrs. Watson chuckled slightly as she watched John.

"Sorry, but are you Irish?" Harry asked me suddenly and I grinned at her and nodded.

"Aye, you caught me," I said pointing at her. "It's always the slip in the accent," I told John, pointing to him conspiratorially. "I moved to London seven years ago. I'm glad I did or I wouldn't have met John," I said, bringing the conversation back around to him. It wasn't about me, it was about John.

Our food finally arrived and that made conversation less awkward since we had something to occupy our mouths with. We made small talk throughout dinner and then we picked up on more conversation while we waited for our dessert to come. I was quite in the mood for a slice of triple chocolate cake. I told Harry and Mrs. Watson about other cases John had worked with us. Harry was very interested in what I had to say while Mrs. Watson only watched with interest. When the cheque came I slipped Mycroft's master card to John. He eyed me uncomfortably and I gave him a pointed look until the waiter came back and he handed the card to him. I pick pocket Mycroft when he was annoying. This card I had nicked off of him when he wanted me to move out of the flat. He could more than well pay for dinner for me. Mrs. Watson gave John a hug before we left and she awkwardly shook my hand before Harry gave us exuberant hugs. Harry also told me to call her if I ever needed a drinking buddy or was looking for a good time which got John very embarrassed. I took it as a compliment though. By the time we got into a cab heading back to Baker Street I could tell that John was emotionally spent.

"Thank you. Um, that went better than I expected it to," John said as we pulled away from the curbing and I looked over at him as I played with the sleeves of my jacket. I grinned at him and shrugged.

"If I can handle the Holmes' boys as you put it I can deal with you mother and sister," I told John and he chuckled before shaking his head ruefully.

"Thanks for paying too," John told me slightly embarrassed and I waved him off.

"Thank Mycroft for loving me so much," I told him, not about to tell him I nicked the card off of Mycroft. "So Harry seems nice enough," I told him and he looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you deduced her," John said and I shrugged. I had actually during dessert along with John's mother.

"Okay yeah, but it could have been worse," I told him and he nodded in agreement. We got back to Baker Street and John paid for the cab before we headed up to the flat. As soon as we stepped inside I could hear loud violin music. John looked at me before we both started up the stairs to the flat. We came into the living room to find Sherlock in his sweatpants and bed shirt with his robe on as he played by the window a very loud Vivaldi piece.

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled above the music and Sherlock turned back to us lowering his bow.

"Ah, you're back," Sherlock said as he deposited his violin into his chair as John helped me out of my coat. "Harry still an alcoholic?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor glared at him as he hung my coat and scarf up behind the door and then his own.

"What have you been doing then?" I asked Sherlock, changing the subject as he picked up a mobile phone off of the coffee table which was not his own.

"I've been curious as to who Justin Guthrie might have collaborated with to rob the diamond exchange. I've been sifting through his phone in my downtime," Sherlock said as he walked up and over the coffee table before lying down on the couch, his hands in his prayer pose with the mobile held between them.

"That's the dead guy's phone? Isn't that evidence?" John asked Sherlock as he sat down heavily in his chair. I went to the kitchen and I got a beer from the fridge for John and I poured myself a glass of Sangria. It wasn't as good as Angelo's but it would do the trick. I used the counter to open the bottle for John before I returned to the living room and handed his drink over to him. "Ta," He said as he saluted me with the bottle before taking a long drink.

"He stored three phone numbers in his notes section. Each one has just a first name next to it: Jeremy, Amelie, Alex. These are the names of three people with whom he served on the jury," Sherlock said ignoring his question as I lifted his head and sat down, letting him put his head back down in my lap. He opened one eye lazily and looked up at me curiously. I just took a long sip of my Sangria and sighed as I reclined into the couch cushions.

"So they kept in touch," John said and Sherlock turned his head, his curls all ruffled up as he turned to look at the army doctor. He looked rather cute with his hair all mussed up. I took another long drink of my Sangria. I was not buzzed enough for those kinds of thoughts.

"Have you served jury service? Did you have any desire to see those people again when it was over?" Sherlock asked him as he jumped up and walked up and over the coffee table again, picking his violin up again. He started playing though less loudly than before. "It's this case, John. It renews one's faith in the profession. It's a life of boundless surprises, detective work," Sherlock turned, finishing his piece before he put his violin down again and crossed over to the mirror where he had Briggs picture pinned to it. "These are the four men who broke into The Leviathan in 2009," Sherlock told us as he gestured to the original team's pictures. "Now, we've already met Charles Briggs, lock-pick and locksmith extraordinaire. This is Vance Paulson. He was the inside man," Sherlock told us as he tapped another picture next to Briggs. "The late Carter Averill, organizer of the crime, genius. He mastered everything from computer coding to surveillance software," Sherlock continued as he taped the next picture up. "And, finally, David Retts, PhD in electrical engineering," Sherlock finished as he pinned the last of the original teams picture to the mirror.

"Your point?" John asked Sherlock as he and I took another long drink. It would appear that Sherlock had been working while we were out. I got up, setting down my half full, I was an optimist, glass of Sangria on the coffee table as I crossed the living room and perched myself in Sherlock's chair.

"We already know that Justin Guthrie's programming skills allowed him to perform much the same function as Carter Averill," Sherlock told us as he pinned Guthrie's picture to the mirror under Averill's. "Now let's meet some of his fellow jurors. Alex Wilson worked as an electrical engineer until his employer forced early retirement on him," Sherlock told us as he pinned Wilson's picture up under Retts. "Jeremy Lopez, son of a locksmith. Paid his way through school by plying his father's trade," Sherlock said pinning Lopez's picture up under Beiggs' before John interrupted him.

"So you're saying that Justin Guthrie committed this robbery with other members of the jury?" John asked Sherlock and I hummed in agreement as Sherlock looked down at me, silently asking for my opinion.

"It probably started as a joke. Jurors spend a lot of time together. Lots of idle chitchat. They might have noted that between them, they had the same skill set as the thieves they were trying. Once Justin Guthrie spotted the coded programming language, things turned serious," I said and Sherlock nodded at me and I grinned. Once Guthrie figured out the code and how to get into the Leviathan their little joke turned into more of a reality.

"Exactly, they realized they'd been handed the recipe for making millions of pounds," Sherlock said and John looked back at us curiously, raising one of his eyebrows at us.

"So, who was the inside man?" John asked us and Sherlock pointed at him before picking up another picture and pinning it under Paulson's. A woman. Ah, it screamed me.

"This is Amelie Widomski, a homemaker from Brighton. I couldn't make any sense of it until I noticed that she'd written her maiden name on some paperwork. Amelie Widomski was born "Amelie Batonvert," Sherlock told us looking at me pointedly. I looked up at him in surprise and he nodded.

"Green Stick," I said with a laugh and Sherlock nodded at me again.

"The manager of the Svalbard Diamond Exchange is her brother. Whether he was in on it or whether she just used the family connection to gain access during working hours, these are the four people who robbed the Svalbard Diamond Exchange two days ago. And one of them is killing the others to keep the proceeds," Sherlock concluded. The three of us shared a look and I sat back in Sherlock's chair, adopting Sherlock's typical prayer pose. It would seem that we had a case.

"Well boys, I think we're back on track," I told the both of them before I hopped out of Sherlock's chair and picked my glass of Sangria and took a sip of it. I turned back to them and grinned. "Well, I'm going to get changed," I told them before I carried my wine back to my room and rummaged around until I found a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t shirt from my Uni days. I took my hair down and ran my fingers through my braids, untangling the strands. I walked back into the living room, my hair full of more curls than normal and I found the boys sitting in their chairs. I curled up on the couch with a book and we passed the evening, John typing on his laptop as Sherlock played some online poker. I had found out that he was rather good at it and that was one of his main sources of income since he didn't actually get paid for consulting for the police. I said goodnight to the boys after I finished my chapter and I headed off to bed. Soon the sound of the violin reached my ears and it was playing the piano lullaby I had played just hours before.


	44. Security Threat

**(A/N) What's this another update you cry? Yes! It's Doctor Who day! DOOOOO WEEEEEEE OOOOOOO! And now that I'm slightly done finishing fangirling a few words of wisdom "Bingle bongle dingle dangle, yickedy doo, yickedy da, ping pong, lippy-tappy-too-ta!" Haha *claps hands together like 11 and points at you" See what I did there?**

**Ugh, I just love you all so much. I just want to bundle you all into a great hug and smother you with my love. Thank you sweeties for the reviews. Seriously, I teared up , more than slightly. Before we get to the chapter I will detain you for a slight moment. Unless you decide to just scroll down. You could do that. Honestly you could, but what is the point? I'm sure you can tell I am half asleep right now because I sound more mental than normal so why listen to my ravings? Because maybe there is some secret message hidden in all of this. There isn't* But how to stop you from scrolling on to the chapter so you can listen to the information I have to give you. *Eyes widen* Idea!**

**I am a servant of the Secret Fire,wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass!The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! ****YOU SHALL NOT PASS! *slams staff on ground***

**Alright, enough dramatics on my two hours of sleep. Alright. Firstly for those of you asking if there is going to be some Sherlock's POV which tells you all what he is thinking in that brain of his, yes and no. Yes to the first but only in the occasion that I only tell you a slight bit of what he is thinking in the next chapter on Tuesday which is a completely original chapter. I think you all should like that. My reasoning is I want you to be just as confused about how they are feeling about each other as Sherlock and Lexi are. You have questions and so do they. All will be revealed and questions shall be answered in the Great Game which starts next Saturday.**

**Order in the court! Second matter of business. Owl, I didn't forget, please find below enclosed in your Hogwarts letter the teaser of a future story Amortentia and Prior Incantantium. Yes, I will be writing a Harry Potter fanfic in the future. I also have plans to work a bit on a Hobbit/ LOtR fanfic at some point possibly. Difference with these is it's all original work on my end and updates might have to be less frequent because of school. My studies have to come first and I'm sure you all can understand that. That, and I am currently writing two novels so any extra time I write these pieces. Don't tell my professors that when I get bored in their classes I act like I'm taking notes while I'm actually writing my fanfics. *ruffles through papers* Hmm let's see, nope that's it.**

**So, onto the chapter Allons-y. Whovians, get ready and take a "Deep Breath!" I'm so witty this morning. Lots of love sweeties. And look, chapter 42 and Doctor Who. 42 is the answer to everything in the Universe and was a name of a Doctor Who episode I confess is not my favourite. I like Weeping Angels more. And hey, Thoroughly Misguided, I don't have to blink so often now because the still dilated and numb eyes so send me some weeping angels. I could take them. Alright, YOU SHALL PASS onto the chapter!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty- Two- Security Threat <strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The next morning the three of us got up and got ready to go and meet Gregson down at the Yard. Sherlock had called Gregson early that morning and had asked him to brining in the jurors from the original case. After listening to Sherlock, Gregson agreed that it was a good lead and now that it was proven that the stone we found was a diamond, Gregson was more willing to listen to Sherlock. I was happy that they were working together. Granted, Sherlock treated him the same as Lestrade, but it was nice that I didn't have to act as a moderator between the two of them. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a light pink lace shirt. I managed to find my black Oxford heels that had made their way to the back of wardrobe and I pulled them on before meeting the boys out in the living room. John handed me a cup of tea and a plate of toast with jam. I grinned at him as I brought it over to the couch and sat down as Sherlock was currently taking up residence in his chair. Once breakfast was over, Sherlock jumped out of his chair and helped me into my coat as he hurried us out of the flat. One cab ride later and we found ourselves standing with Gregson in front of a conference room at the Yard, the jurors waiting for us inside.

"Okay, ten jurors, two alternates. The only surviving juror we couldn't find is Alex Wilson. That's the engineer. You think he has something to do with this, right? So, assuming you're right about what happened, he's probably in the wind. Seems like he could be our guy," Gregson said as the four of us looked at the jurors who were talking amongst themselves.

"Maybe, but I believe our killer is standing in that room," Sherlock told him before he caught my eye and nodded his head at one of the men inside, something not missed by Gregson.

"That man is named Jeremy Lopez. Even from here, you can see his face is injured. You think Justin Guthrie did that to him?" Gregson asked us and I shrugged, looking back at him.

"Should be easy enough to find out," I told him before stepping inside the room, the boys following me inside. We had already agreed upon me talking to the jurors instead of Sherlock or John as Sherlock had said that statistically women came across as more friendly and he also didn't want to talk to them. I had rolled my eyes at him but agreed. "Ladies and gentlemen, um, so I'd like to start by thanking you all for fulfilling your civic duty," I said, adding the um in there to seem more human. I winked at Sherlock and he raised his eyebrow at me and I smirked back at him. "The justice system called and you all answered. Unfortunately, it seems that four of your number have become criminals themselves, and one of those four is now a murderer. Shocking, I know. But we have obtained a sample of the murderer's blood. Now it's a simple case of comparing your DNA to that sample, and we'll have our killer," I told them all before Gregson motioned for his forensics' tech to come in.

"Okay, you can start," Gregson told her and she nodded before she started walking around the room, passing around swabs and tubes to put them in. I nodded once before continuing.

"Please, bear in mind, we cannot force you to give samples. But you've already demonstrated your civic-mindedness by serving as jurors, and I'm sure that the innocent amongst you will relish the chance to help catch a murderer. If, however, you recently did murder Justin Guthrie, you certainly should not offer a sample. That would be after all very stupid," I told them all as Lopez hesitated to give a sample. I raised an eyebrow and nodded my head in that direction after catching Sherlock's eye.

"Everything all right, Mr. Lopez?" Sherlock asked our prime suspect, raising an eyebrow at him. Gregson gave me a pointed look as John crossed his arms in front of him.

"Fine, fine," Lopez told us before he swabbed the inside of his mouth and stuck his swab into his tube before handing it back.

"All right, everyone, you can go now. Thank you very much for your time," Gregson told all of the jurors and the nodded awkwardly before they filed out of the room with the forensics tech leaving the four of us alone. "We'll, uh, keep some people on Lopez and Amelie Widomski, make sure they don't try to flee. Maybe he gave us that sample because he knew if he didn't, we'd know it was him," Gregson said as Sherlock and I both gave him a pointed look, raising our eyebrows and rolling our eyes in unison. Gregson scoffed before he continued. "I know. He seemed pretty confident. Why would a killer just hand off his DNA like that?"

"I don't believe he would," I told Gregson and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Unless of course he is an imbecile as most people are," Sherlock quipped and John gave him a look that said, 'Behave.' I shook my head fondly at the consulting detective as Sargent Bell knocked on the door before stepping inside.

"Gregson, we just heard from an officer in Bristol. Guy saw our BOLO on Alex Wilson. This cop swears he saw Wilson couple days ago. Gave us an address," Bell told him and Gregson nodded as Sherlock and I shared a look.

"We need to find him. We may have been wrong about Jeremy Lopez, and I doubt Amelie Widomski could throw a man out of a window, so if Lopez is not our man, then Alex Wilson must be," I told Gregson and I looked back at my boys. "Ready?" I asked them and they both nodded at me with grins on their faces. We headed out of the Yard together side by side, Sherlock and my coats billowing behind us. It would appear that we were finally getting somewhere. I grinned at Sherlock as I got into the cab before him and he grinned down at me and a look passed between us that made me think, maybe he felt the same way.

I let Sherlock and John head off to Bristol with Gregson and Sargent Bell by themselves as I decided to get some much needed shopping done. We were almost out of tea and the flat was a mess. I didn't want Mrs. Hudson to come back and find we had let everything go by the way side in her absence. Sherlock was hesitant to go without me but I assured him that he was fine on his own. It had been sweet to see Sherlock reluctant to leave me on my own. John and Sherlock both made me promise to be careful at which time I told them that the worst that could happen to me was a muscle strain from luging groceries upstairs. I wasn't worried about sending them off together. The time just the two of them would be good for them. I couldn't always be the moderator and I needed time by myself too. As much as I loved the boys, I needed some girl time. Since I had a few hours before they would be back I decided to make it an impromptu girl's day. The first thing on the agenda was to call Molly. At least I could make up for our last girl's day now that I was feeling better.

"Hey Molls," I said with a smile as soon as the pathologist answered the phone. Stealing Molly away would be extremely easy, but stealing my other go to girl away would mean a lot of begging. Maybe if I caught Mycroft in a good mood he would relent and let Anthea have some time off. Then again I had my ways of getting him to agree to things.

"Hi Lexi! What can I do for you? Does Sherlock need more fingers?" Molly asked me in rapid succession and I laughed as I shook my head, though she couldn't see me. I looked around in my closet until I found a beautiful spring dress that I hardly got wear when I was on a case.

"No actually Sherlock is out on a case and I left John with him. So would I be able to steal you away for some girl's time?" I asked Molly Hopefully as I chose my black booties to go with the blue turtle necked, short puff sleeved dress.

"I actually just finished up for the day! Do you want me to come by your flat first?" Molly asked me and I shook my head grimacing. Not with the amount of dirty dishes lying about and Sherlock's experiments which had left an odd smell in the kitchen.

"Um, the flat is sort of a biohazard right now, but I will come pick you up outside of Bart's in fifteen if that suits you," I told Molly as I one handedly shrugged out of my clothes and looked up, blowing the hair out of my face which had remained extra curly from the night before.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Molly said with a laugh. "I don't know how you can live with Sherlock and John. They're nice…not that… not that I'm saying you wouldn't be able to live with them. Oh that came out wrong," Molly stuttered and I laughed, I loved Molly, awkwardness and all. Molly was the sweetest and most innocent girl I had ever met and I enjoyed spending time with her.

"No, I get it and it's difficult, very difficult," I told Molly and she laughed with me. "Alright, I should getting moving if I'm going to meet you. See you in fifteen," I told her before I hung up. I quickly pulled on my dress before dialling the second number I needed.

"Lexi," I heard Anthea answer and I grinned. She always knew when it was me calling. "Mycroft is in a meeting right now, but I can give him a message for you," Anthea told me as I hopped around my room pulling my shoes on.

"Actually I was calling for you. Do you think you can sneak away for a few hours?" I asked Anthea and she chuckled.

"I already did. My sources told me that the boys were out so I assumed you would want a girl's day. I am pulling up to Baker Street now," Anthea told me smugly and I rolled my eyes. Trust Mycroft's sources to let her know what I was up too.

"I'll be down in a second," I told Anthea as I threw my wallet into my messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder after I managed to pull my coat on. I hung up and threw my mobile in my bag before I slung my scarf around my neck and made my way out of our flat with a grin on my face. I could clean up later. It was at least a two hour ride to Bristol and they would probably spend a half hour to an hour there before they came back. Therefore I was free until later in the afternoon.

Anthea opened the door to the black car as soon as I turned around from locking the house up and shoving my keys back in my bag. I slid into the back where Anthea was on her phone. She looked up at me as Allen pulled away onto the street and held a finger up to me before finishing her missive. She lowered her phone and grinned at me before giving me a one armed hug. Anthea, or Charlotte as her real name was, had been Mycroft's PA for the last seven years and before that. They worked perfectly together. From what I knew Anthea's family was a friend of the Holmes family and when Anthea needed a job, Mycroft had begrudgingly given her the role of his PA. She had soon proven she was more competent than any other PA he had had before. The government practically ran because of Mycroft. Mycroft was the face everyone saw, but Anthea kept the government running by bringing Mycroft tea and cake and doing all the paperwork. I didn't know how they did it but Mycroft and her got along most of the time. As much as I even loved Mycroft he pissed me off a lot. I knew Anthea gave it right back to him.

"So we are picking up a Ms. Molly Hooper at St. Bart's and then I got us reservations for lunch, on Mycroft of course," Anthea told me and I laughed. "And I got someone to come in and clean up the biohazard was it, while we are out."

"You are a saint. I don't know what I would do without you," I told Anthea as she grinned and shrugged her shoulders.

"Like the British Government you would crumble. Am I good or am I good?" She asked me and I nodded with a laugh.

"Your good," I assured her and she nodded with a grin.

"Oh yeah I am. I figured you deserved a little treat. The Holmes' boys cause more messes than they clean them," Anthea said with a sigh and I nodded in agreement.

"You're telling me. At least you don't live with Mycroft," I told her and she nodded at me, giving me a pitying look.

"True," She said as we pulled up outside of Bart's where Molly was waiting out front. I opened the door as soon as we stopped and popped my head out of the car.

"Car for Molly Hooper," I told the surprised pathologist with a grin as she took in the car. "Get in here," I told her as I ducked back inside the car and slid over making room for her. She joined us inside and shut the door before Allen pulled out into traffic again. "Molly meet Anthea, Sherlock's brother's PA. Anthea meet Molly, our pathologist," I introduced the girls and Anthea and Molly reached across me to shake hands.

"It's nice to meet you," Molly said with a nervous grin before she hugged me. "Are you feeling better?" She asked me and I nodded, patting her arm. She was always worried about everyone else.

"Much, thanks. Which calls for a girl's day out. Anthea got us reservations for lunch and then I am thinking shopping," I told the girls as Allen looked back at us in the 'What have I gotten myself into?' sort of way.

"That's sounds great! I haven't gotten to go shopping in forever," Molly gushed as Anthea nodded in agreement.

"I hear you. All I ever seem to do is work," Anthea groaned before she looked at me. "And I don't think you've had a day off from cases in a while," She pointed out and come to think about it she was right. I shrugged at her and grinned fondly as I remembered the look Sherlock got on his face while at a crime scene or thinking.

"Eh, I don't mind, I actually enjoy it," I told them the girls as they both looked at me with raised eyebrows. Okay, maybe introducing Anthea to Molly wasn't a good idea. "Okay yeah, we run around a lot and hardly sleep, but I need cases as much as Sherlock does," I told them, shaking my head.

"How is Sherlock?" Molly asked me, biting her lip and I knew she was trying to be subtle about it, but she really wanted to know.

"Happy as cucumber. John and him went off to Bristol to follow a lead that came in this morning which makes for one happy consulting detective. Part of me not wanting to go with them is because I didn't want to sit in a car with them for that long. I kind of wish I knew how it was going," I told Molly with a grin. I could just imagine Sherlock complaining because of the long ride and John about ready to murder him as he complained he was bored every two minutes or that everyone was idiots and not going quickly enough for his liking.

"I'll see if I can find any footage later," Anthea told me evilly as we arrived at the restaurant for lunch. Molly shook her head at the both of us, but even sweet, innocent little Molly couldn't help but grin.

The girls and I enjoyed a lovely lunch together and we talked about work over wine. Dinking at lunch time was a good way to start an afternoon. After lunch the girl's and I went shopping. Shopping was something that could take ages with us. We tried on clothes, complained about how they looked, and then we ended up buying them anyway. While Anthea and Molly were in one shoe store I had slipped into the hair salon next door. I had all my hair cut up an inch so that the bit of my hair that had been cut by our assassin friend blended into the rest of my hair again. I wouldn't let them cut any more than that. As it was I felt slightly sad seeing the copper locks on the floor. I ended up buying a pair of boots that were better for running about London and a few jumpers since winter was slowly coming. It was heading into summer and soon it would be fall and while we had a slight heat spell come through in the last few days or so, the weather was growing steadily colder again. It was always technically chilly in London, unless you were used to the cold. I couldn't help myself from buying a light blue and navy striped jumper for John. I also picked up some more music sheets for Sherlock and some brand new test tubes. We dropped Molly back at her flat first and then Anthea had Allen drive her back to the office, leaving me with the car so I could make a quick run to Tesco's. When I finally got inside the flat and got all the food put away I was finally able to appreciate the fact that the flat was clean.

The dishes were clean and put away, the kitchen had been cleaned, up and the living room didn't look like a crime scene any more. I sighed and smiled as I looked around the place which had even been dusted before I unpacked everything I bought. I left Sherlock's new test tubes with his chemistry equipment and his music sheets on his music stand. I left John's new jumper on his bed and just as I was putting my new clothes away my phone rang. It was the lab with the DNA results from Guthrie's flat. The results were not what I was expecting. I checked my phone to see if I had missed any calls or texts from Sherlock or John and I hadn't which could either mean that everything was going good or one of them had killed the other. I curled up in Sherlock's chair with a book and waited for the boys to come home. The sound of the door banging open downstairs alerted me to the boys return and I marked my page in my book as they stomped up the stairs. Two sets of footsteps, I thought with a grin, apparently they had gotten along well enough without me. Sherlock and John walked into the living room and started pulling of their jackets as I stood and moved towards the kitchen to make them tea.

"Oh, good, you're back," I said as Sherlock and John both fell into their chairs and Sherlock adopted his prayer pose. John looked round at me tiredly and waved slightly as I started pulling mugs down from the cupboard as I waited for the kettle to boil. "How did it go?" I asked them as I turned back to find Sherlock staring at me.

"The flat's been cleaned," Sherlock said as he looked around. "And your hair is an inch shorter than before and you are wearing a dress," Sherlock commented as I popped the tea bags into the mugs. I looked back at him and grinned as John also took a look round the flat.

"Ten out of ten for observation," I told him as I added the hot water to our mugs. "I met Molly and Anthea for lunch and did a bit of shopping," I told them as I fixed their tea. Sherlock and John shared a look and I saw John smirk slightly as I brought them their tea before sitting on the edge of Sherlock's chair. "So, what did you find out?" I asked them again now that the obvious had been stated.

"Alex Wilson has been dead for the last few days. He wasn't the one to kill Guthrie," Sherlock told me before he took a sip of his tea. He looked down at his mug before seeming to sigh slightly and relax into his chair. It was as much as Sherlock ever relaxed.

"Well, we got the preliminary DNA results back from Justin Guthrie's apartment. The DNA does not match Jeremy Lopez's nor does it match Alex Wilson's. It belongs to an Army chaplain by the name of Audrey Higuerra," I told John and Sherlock and Sherlock's head immediately snapped up to me.

"What's her connection to the jury?" Sherlock asked me and I shrugged before I took a sip of my tea.

"That's just the thing, as far as we know right now, she doesn't have one," I told him and he frowned at me. I had done some digging after getting the results back, apparently Higuerra didn't have a connection to the jury right now which meant that we were at a standstill again in the case. My phone trilled and I got up to retrieve it, reading the text I was sent. John and Sherlock both watched me with interest as I looked up at them from my phone. "That was Gregson. They're heading over to Higuerra's flat now to pick her up. He texted me the address if we want to come along," I told them and Sherlock immediately sprang to his feet.

"Come along John," Sherlock said as he started to pull his jacket back on after setting his tea down on the coffee table. The game is on!" Sherlock continued as I set my tea down and let him bundle me into my coat. John sighed heavily before he heaved himself out of his chair, setting his tea down like we had and pulling on his coat.

The three of us headed out of the flat and I shook my head behind the boys. It would appear that every calm moment couldn't last long. We were back to running around to solve this case. Other might not be able to handle it but the three of us loved the thrill of it. I knew that no matter how tired John seemed he loved doing this too. The cabbie couldn't move fast enough as we rode across the city. We meet Gregson and his team down the rode a ways from Higuerra's flat were everyone was talking and making sure they were on the same page. John, Sherlock, and I stood a little ways apart from them. Sherlock had his hand on the small of my back and I couldn't help the grin that made its way onto my face. I knew with the revelation about my feelings for Sherlock that things could be difficult. Sherlock was married to his work, he had said it himself at the same time he said that dating, "wasn't his area." I wasn't stupid. I knew Sherlock wasn't magically going to change or fall in love with me. I didn't believe in fairy tales any more, but I had noticed that we had grown closer. I wasn't going to read into it. Right now I was happy to just be friends with him. If that was all I could ever be to him that would suffice.

"Seems rather noble, this Audrey Higuerra, doesn't she?" Sherlock asked us before continuing without giving us time to respond. "Very noble indeed. I don't like her," Sherlock said and I snorted, looking up at him and rolling my eyes at him fondly.

"Is that because she's a chaplain or because she has a "Habitat For Humanity" sticker in her window?" John asked Sherlock sarcastically, pointing up to the second floor where her flat was where there was in fact a "Habitat For Humanity" sticker in her window.

"I don't like her because she doesn't fit. It was a beautiful theory, not a hair out of place," Sherlock told John and he made a face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "The first robbery, the team of jurors-turned-criminals who turned on each other like a pack of rabid dogs. But this Audrey Higuerra- she doesn't have any connection to these people. She doesn't fit anywhere," Sherlock growled and I patted him on the arm comfortingly.

"Well, we found her blood in Justin Guthrie's apartment. And someone once said once you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is the truth," John said smugly and I shook my head at him as Sherlock huffed impatiently.

"Sounds like a windbag," Sherlock snapped and John and I both hid our smiles and our laughter with coughing. Unfortunately my coughing actually turned into a coughing fit. John patted me on the back until the coughing subsided and I looked up at him in thanks as I sniffled slightly. We headed over to Gregson and were told to stay in the back as the team knocked on the door. The landlady, who reminded me of Mrs. Hudson, let us in and stood back, tittering as the men thundered up the stairs and banged on the door of Higuerra's flat. When we got no answer her landlady gave us the spare key to the flat and let us inside before Gregson had one of the team go downstairs to her flat and ask her a few questions about Higuerra.

Looking around her flat there was nothing to suggest that she was a cold blooded killer. Sherlock seemed to realize the same thing I did. "I don't see anything here that supports the idea that she was a murderer. Quite the opposite. If I could attribute three miracles to her, I would nominate her for sainthood," Sherlock said with a disgusted face. I looked back at him and shook my head.

"Everyone has their own reasons to be nominated. Looks like she's got the caring for the sick part down though. She nursed her sister through cancer. Be careful, you might qualify," I told Sherlock with a laugh when he shot a glare my way as I referenced the fact that he had been making me tea while I was sick.

"So, not only is Audrey Higuerra not to be found in her own home, she's not even in the country. We just found her calendar. Turns out, she was deployed to Kabul a couple weeks ago," Gregson said as he walked back into the living room where Sherlock and I were looking through her books and various papers.

"That can't be. We just found a fresh blood sample, hers, in Justin Guthrie's apartment yesterday," John said as he looked up at Gregson in surprise as he put down the stack of mail he was looking through. Curiouser and curiouser. This case got more and more interesting as it progressed.

"We're waiting on the Army to confirm that she's posted overseas, but, I mean, look around. Does it look like anyone's been here recently?" Gregson asked us as John suddenly frowned. I had seen that face before and it was one I encouraged. It was the sort of face I got when I was on to something.

"Can I take back everything I said about eliminating the impossible?" John asked Sherlock and I as he strode across the living room and suddenly picked up something off the table, holding it up. It was a green ribbon that I recognized was given to bone marrow donors.

"What are you thinking John?" I asked the army doctor as Sherlock and I shared a look before eying him curiously.

"Audrey Higuerra's sister died of leukaemia. And then once she was gone, Audrey did everything she could to help people with the same disease. I used to see these all the time. They give them to bone marrow donors," John said, holding up the ribbon. I grinned at him for his brilliance.

"I think you may be right about this John. In fact I am certain you are," I told John who grinned at me proudly. I turned to Gregson who was staring at us in confusion. "Do you still have a police detail following Jeremy Lopez?" I asked him and he looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head.

"We called it off when the DNA results came back," He told me and I looked at Sherlock quickly. He had been right. It was Lopez only it didn't look like it at first. Lopez was smart though, I'll give him that, but in the end no one could really hide from us.

"You need to find him, bring him in immediately," Sherlock told Gregson who nodded before he yelled at his men to go and find Lopez and bring him into the Yard.

"Very good work John," I told the army doctor with a grin. John beamed at the praise which I knew he needed. I knew the meeting with his Mum and Harry, while it went better than he expected it too, had still been difficult for him.

The next hour passed very quickly. Sherlock, John, and I followed Gregson in a cab back to the Yard. I got a text from Mycroft which basically told me to stop stealing Anthea when she was supposed to be working. Gregson called me next and passed on the information that one of the dispatchers already found Lopez and was bringing him in. The four of us arrived at the Yard and we waited until Lopez was brought in. During that time Sherlock and I shared our deductions with Gregson to fill him in and John and I explained what we knew. It looked like this case would be wrapped up tonight which would mean we would have some time to rest before our next case which I was thankful for. I had noticed that Sherlock's eyes looked a little read and his voice was slightly more gravelly than normal but he looked alright. I passed it off as just being because of the weather change. That or he was allergic to something that was blooming. Once we were ready the four of us filed into the room where Lopez was waiting for us.

"I don't know why I'm back here. I already gave you people my DNA," Lopez said huffily as I stood next to Sherlock with my arms crossed. John standing next to me in his military stance. The boys were just being protective of me since we didn't know how this would play out as Lopez had already pushed Gunthrie out of a window. He didn't seem like a violent man, but then again we had more than a few surprises with this case already.

"Yeah, we had a little problem with that," Gregson told him, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Something went wrong with one of the swabs. If it's not too much trouble, we'd like to get a blood sample. It's a cleaner read," Gregson told him and Lopez looked back at us in exasperation.

"I've already been very helpful. Generous, even. But, honestly, I don't like needles. I don't see why I should," Lopez told us and Sherlock's face lit up in a grin that did not bode well for the person it was directed towards.

"Ah there they are," Sherlock said as he gestured to Lopez, ignoring him while he made the show of talking to me. "The evasions and rhetorical curlicues of a man with something to hide," Sherlock continued as Lopez looked up at Sherlock and frowned.

"I don't have anything to hide," Lopez said as Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me, my cue to pick up. Gregson had surprisingly agreed with Sherlock when Sherlock told him he wanted me to talk to Lopez. I didn't have anything against it. I sighed and nodded slightly at Sherlock before looking back at Lopez.

"You had leukaemia; is that correct, Jeremy?" I asked Lopez and he looked up at me in surprise as it was the first time I spoke directly to him. I stared at him, making eye contact and he looked away from me. It was a fact that people couldn't look you in the eyes if they were lying.

"Yeah. Five years ago. I'm better now," Lopez said with a grin as he knocked on the table. Superstitions. Sherlock rolled his eyes and I told him to behave with my eyes.

"Good, that's good to hear," I told Lopez with a smile before my smile faded. "And you're better because of a bone marrow transplant, right?" I continued and Lopez nodded. "Did you know that one of the side effects of a bone marrow transplant is that your body begins to manufacture cells that bear the DNA of your donor?" I asked Lopez raising one eyebrow. It was very fascinating and John and I had both talked from the medical standpoint to explain it to Sherlock and Gregson. "And bone marrow manufactures blood. So you know that every recipient of a transplant walks around with the DNA of their donor coursing through their veins. But the DNA in your skin, your hair, your saliva, that's all your own. The blood that we found at Justin Guthrie's apartment, it bears the DNA of Audrey Higuerra, but it came from your body. You knew that you could give us a saliva sample, because the DNA wouldn't match the blood that we found at the crime scene," I finished with a smug smile as Sherlock looked down at me with a smirk.

"I cannot believe that you are dragging my illness into this," Lopez said, glaring at me. John shifted next to me drawing attention to himself and pulling it away from me. I looked at John and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and huffed slightly.

"You stole £40 million, and then you murdered two people," John accused him, looking away from me and Lopez shook his head in exasperation before he stood up from his seat. There came the second mechanism, the storming out and trying to draw attention away from the accusation.

"I'm leaving. Don't call me. Don't expect me to cooperate," Lopez told us as he moved towards the door which was when Gregson stepped forward. He really couldn't think he would get away that easily. Obviously he had never heard of Sherlock or me before.

"Oh, we don't need your cooperation," Gregson told Lopez and Lopez looked back at him as Gregson opened the file he had on the table and pushed it towards Lopez.

"What's that?" Lopez asked us as he walked back over to the table so he could look at what Gregson had pushed towards him.

"Court order. Compels you to give us a blood sample," Gregson told Lopez before he looked at me and nodded with a slight smile. This wasn't the first time we had done the same thing to a suspect together. See, when you made it seem like they had a choice you often got to see how defensive they got about it. Someone who was truly innocent would want to prove he was innocent in any way possible. The guilty often were the first to make excuses.

"We seem to have neglected to mention that we had that when we first came in," Sherlock said and I looked up at him with a grin. Lopez threw us a look and I nodded at Sherlock.

"Yeah, I think we did," I told Sherlock and he smirked at me as John hid his own smile.

"Well, we just didn't want to deny ourselves the pleasure of watching you squirm," Sherlock told Lopez who glared at the both of us. "You give us enough to arrest Amelie Widomski for her part in the robbery, and who knows? Maybe a parole board will see you before you're dead," Sherlock offered him.

We wrapped up the case with Gregson. After proving that Lopez wasn't going to get out of this, he started talking, a lot. Gregson thanked us for our help, not only for solving a murder, but also the case of Le Chevalier and figuring out who the thieves were in the case of the Leviathan. John, Sherlock, and I had done what we always do after a case after that, we went to Angelo's. We laughed over food, Sherlock finally eating as I drank my Sangria. John got the best news of the night however. He got a call from his mother during dinner and his mother had apologized to him. She told him how she never really understood what he did, but I had made her realize just how important his job actually was. I grinned back at my boys meeting Sherlock's eye as he laughed over something I had just said and we held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Maybe, I thought. Maybe we could be something one day. I wasn't saying now, I wasn't saying definitely, but maybe one day we could be more than just friends.

"You were the one who figured out Audrey Higuerra was a bone marrow donor," I told John as I drank my Sangria, pointing at him as we talked over the remnants of dinner. John chuckled at me and shrugged.

"There was no genius who independently cracked The Leviathan. It was a question of copying the original team," Sherlock remarked as he sat back in his chair and John snorted at him as he looked between the both of us.

"So that means you still might be the smartest people in the world," John told us, raising his wine glass before he took a sip. The three of us had drank a little bit more than normal. I don't care what people say, wine can really knock you on your ass. Sherlock had drank less than the both of us, but even he had a slight rosy tint to his normally pale cheeks.

"I would never suggest that," I told John and he raised an eyebrow at me as I grinned back at him and Sherlock.

"Really?" John scoffed at me. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say anything remotely modest," John told me and I stuck my tongue out at him. Yeah sure, I wasn't always modest, but when you were right most of the time it was hard to be.

"It's not modesty," I told John as I picked up my Sangria. "There's just no reliable way to test the hypothesis," I finished and both of the boys laughed as I drank the rest of my wine.

"Back to the flat?" John asked me as Angelo came back with Sherlock's card. As much as Angelo told us that the food was on the house, Sherlock had insisted that Angelo let him pay for dinner.

"Not quiet. Can we make one stop?" I asked the boys and Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me curiously as John nodded. We got a cab after leaving Angelo's and I had it bring us over to the Svalbard Diamond Exchange, answering Sherlock's earlier curiosity. Thankful Greenstick was still in and I managed to get him to let us see the vault. I assured him that it would only take a few minutes.

I pulled my tools out of my case bag and knelt in front of the vault as John and Sherlock stood behind me with Green Stick. I didn't have to do this, but I felt the need to. I used the algorithm to attack the random number generator and within a few minutes the vault flashed green which proved that it worked. Of course, the vault couldn't open without the key, but I really didn't need it to open to prove I had done it. I stood up and wiped my hands together as Green Stick spluttered behind me. I turned around to find John and Sherlock looking at me with raised eyebrows.

"Still got it," I told them as I walked past them and patted Green Stick on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll contact Casterly Rock Security. I'm sure they'll be by in a few days to improve the safe for you," I told him before I looked back at my boys. "Coming?" I asked them and they both nodded before following me outside. When we were in another cab heading back to Baker Street John finally asked me the question he seemed to have been waiting to ask me.

"Did you really need to do that?" John asked me as I snuggled into Sherlock's side, the detective looking down at me with interest. I was reluctant to move much as I was comfortable.

"Not exactly, but I do like proving a theory. Besides now I can make recommendations to Casterly Rock Security on how they can improve the Leviathan. I am nothing if not helpful," I told John with a shrug as I blinked back at him lazily.

"I can see why Mycroft classified you as a threat," John chuckled and Sherlock joined in, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

"I'm a girl of many talents, what can I say," I told John, giggling. "That and my friends are not always that law conscious," I told him as we got back to Baker Street. We made it up to the flat and Sherlock helped me out of my coat and hung it up behind the door with his and John's. I walked over to the telly and turned it on, flipping on the news. "John," I called and he looked up as I pointed to the telly where the news story was now airing, just on time.

"The police are puzzled by the sudden and unexplained return of Vincent Van Gogh's masterpiece, Pietà. It was delivered by courier to the head of the British Museum and will be sent on to the Van Gogh Museum to join his other masterpieces. Scotland Yard is speculating that the thief must have been suffering from a guilty conscience, but the exact motive for the return remains a mystery," The reporter on the news said as I turned to the boys who both looked up where the Pieta used to be hanging.

"I returned it today while I was out with the girls," I told the both of them as I sank into Sherlock's chair. "Of course the police will never figure out that the courier was me. The Pieta will be going back to where it belongs," I told John and he shook his head at me before heading upstairs to change.

Sherlock fell down onto the couch after taking his suit jacket off and he curled up into a ball and sat that way. I smiled at him fondly as John came back down stairs, holding up the jumper I had gotten him. "Did you get this for me?" John asked me and I laughed at that.

"Unless you see Sherlock buying something like that yes. Gives me another jumper I could steal at some point," I told John and he shook his head at me in exasperation before heading back up stairs.

I curled up with my book and John came back down to join us, sitting in his chair on his laptop. He was the first to go to bed, leaving Sherlock and I alone together. I looked up when I heard a sound coming from the couch and I frowned as I heard it again. It sounded like sniffling. I closed my book and got up, crossing over the living room. "Sherlock?" I asked the consulting detective who only curled up tighter on himself. "Love?" I tried again as I moved over to the couch and put my hand on Sherlock's shoulder. He curled in on himself tighter still and I sat on the arm of the couch. "Sherlock sweetie," I said and Sherlock finally turned over. His eyes were red as was his nose and I realized that the sniffling sound was coming from him. "Aww honey, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" I asked him as I raised my hand to his forehead. He was slightly warm. Sherlock rolled his eyes at me, obviously feeling too unwell for his usually quips. That was when Sherlock coughed and it wouldn't be the first one that night. Mrs. Hudson walked up to the flat late that night to find Sherlock and Lexi fast asleep on the couch, the detectives head in Lexi's lap, both with sleepy smiles on their faces. Even if they couldn't see it, everyone else could.

* * *

><p>Amortentia and Prior Incantantium Teaser:<p>

A faint pop broke the silence that had fallen over the quiet lane as a woman, well I, appeared at the end of it out of thin air. To anyone that wasn't a witch or a wizard this might appear very odd. Of course, Muggles weren't supposed to even know about magic so we didn't tend to apparate anywhere where a Muggle could see us in the first place. I walked up the quiet lane that lead out of the small village of Hogsmead and up towards the old castle. It had been a little while since I had been back to the castle. I never actually went to Hogwarts myself, at least not technically, it was out for debate but that was a very long story and one I didn't often like to look back on. I sighed to myself as I wrapped my bottle green cloak closer around myself, the hood of my cloak falling back slightly over my deep blood red hair. When I reached the gates of the castle I slipped my wand out of the inside of my coat and held it up to the gates, giving my wand a little flourish. The gates vibrated for a second as they tested my magical signature before they swung open for me.

I walked through the gates, grateful that I didn't have to send ahead for someone to collect me. It would have been slightly…uncomfortable since I only knew one person in the castle. I didn't want to explain who I was at the current moment. Once inside the gates of the castle they closed behind me and I started the long walk across the grounds up to the castle. I looked across to the Black Lake and saw the tentacles of the giant squid I had been reminded about. When I made it to the doors of the castle I raised my wand again and after a second the doors opened for me like before. I stowed my wand into my robes again and walked into the Entrance Hall. My boots clicked across the marble floors as I made my way over to the doors of the Great Hall through which I could hear the sounds of clinking dinnerware and the slightly muffled sound of people talking. I stood in front of the doors and took a deep breath. Through those doors was an entirely different life than I was used to. There was no going back and no running once I walked through them. This was when I needed to prove to myself and others that I could do this, that I wasn't some fragile child despite my young age. I knew that the other Professors might look down upon me but I had to hold fierce and strengthen my resolve. I nodded once to myself before I held my hands to both of the doors and pushed them open.

I walked right into the hall, a very dramatic entrance unfortunately and suddenly the roar of people talking turned into a deafening hush. The silence was more frightening than the stream of voices. I brought my hands to the sides of my cloak and gripped the edges of it. I kept my eyes level and swept my gaze over the Great Hall, taking in the faces of the younger and older students who were all staring back at me. My heart twinged slightly as I caught sight of several red headed boys at the table sporting red and gold as its colours. My eyes finally fell on a young boy with messy black hair and familiar green eyes. He wore glasses and even from my current distance I could see the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He stared back at me curiously for a moment before I pulled my eyes away from him and looked up at the long table where the Professors sat. I met the old blue eyes of a man I certainly knew and I could see the twinkle in them as his gaze fell upon me. I smiled at him and started walking down the path amongst the two middle tables. As I walked, the hood of my cloak fell back, revealing the rest of my face. Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school, rose from his chair as I walked towards the staff table.

I felt eyes on me, a certain type of gaze and I slid my eyes over slightly to meet a pair of coal black eyes. They belonged to a man who looked equally as dark. He had a rather large hook nose and wore robes of black. His hair fell to his shoulders and possessed a slightly shiny quality. He was sneering, or at least I perceived it as sneering, at me. I quirked my eyebrow slightly at him before I looked back at Dumbledore, ignoring the man for the present. I smiled at the older man again as I walked around the staff table, sweeping past the man who seemed rather unpleasant if his countenance was anything to go by. Dumbledore enveloped me in a hug and I kissed his old weathered cheek, the old man smiling at me with an almost bashful expression upon his serene face.

"My dear, I had begun to think you had lost your way," Dumbledore told me and I laughed brightly at that, the sound like bells.

"I remember my way well enough as you should rightly know. I apologize. My meeting didn't go as I had planned," I told Dumbledore and he sighed heavily at that. We both had been hoping for a rather different outcome.

"Alas," Dumbledore told me and I nodded at him before he gesture to the chair just beside him which was seated right next to the man in black. "But you made it in time for some treacle my dear," Dumbledore told me and I grinned at him before I reached up and undid the silver fastenings of my coat. I took it off and folded it over the top of my chair, revealing a dress made of various shades of green, light and dark, with a black corset bodice and laced up sleeves.

"Oh do just get on with it," I told Dumbledore as I sat down, ignoring the man next to me as Dumbledore chuckled lightly. I sighed and looked out amongst the sea of students who were watching me closely with much interest as some of them mutter amongst themselves.

"Students," Dumbledore called as he turned to the hall. "And Professors," He added as he threw a look down both ends of the staff table. "I would like to introduce one of the newest members of the Hogwarts staff," Dumbledore continued and stole a look out of the corner of my eye to find the dark one as I had begun to call him in my mind, looking me over critically. If anything I sat just a little straighter in my seat. "She would prefer to be known only by her first name. I wish you all to welcome Professor Amaryllis," Dumbledore said and I tried to hide my grimace as the entire hall started clapping for me. I hate formalities and well, introductions. I was quiet and preferred to keep to myself. "Settle down," Dumbledore said after a moment. "Professor Amaryllis will be providing help to the other professors of Hogwarts so expect to see her amongst your classes," Dumbledore said before he gestured to the tables as they filled with a large amount of deserts. "And now, dessert!" Dumbledore said as he sat down again and I reached for my goblet as it filled with a deep red wine.

"I really wish you hadn't had to do that," I told Dumbledore quietly and he patted my hand in comfort.

"Alas my dear. Sometimes we must do what seems to be frightening at first in order to prevail," Dumbledore told me.

* * *

><p>Oh, it's far longer than that but, all you get for now. *grins* Hope you liked just that little taste of it.<p> 


	45. Discoveries In Sentimentality

**(A/N) Warning! Warning! The following chapter contains so much fluff that it might make you sick. I will not be held responsible for it. It was all Lexi's idea. *Goes to hide behind the couch and lifts head over the back of it.* We also just hit 221 FAVOURITES! Wow, I only just noticed that and I am livng that. I know it isn't going to stay that way, but it made my day. I hit the magical Sherlock number. THANK YOU!**

**So, I was challenged to do the ALS ice bucket challenge by the illustrious Mr. Smith. You can find my challenge on my Tumbler page under kattiewatsonholmes. I have challenged all my readers in return and I did the challenge dressed as Lexi. I hope I will be seeing your videos in return and hope you all go to donate like I have at ALSA. org.**

**This chapter is one you've been waiting for and explores what Sherlock and Lexi are both think of certain new developments. I thought you all might want to see a sick Sherlock too. This Saturday, the Great Game beings. Much love to all of you as I combat some personal matters. This chapter certainly cheered me up so I hope it helps you all too. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Chapter Forty Three- Discoveries In Sentimentality <strong>**

What had started as just a few sniffles and light coughing had quickly turned into a very bad cold overnight. I had been woken up in the earlier hours of the morning by one very grumpy consulting detective in the midst of a coughing fit. I had tried to comfort him by rubbing soothing circles on Sherlock's back as he hacked, but that had ended with him snapping at me. I knew he was just feeling unwell, so I let it go as I got up and made tea for him. Sherlock glared at me with the most hatred he could muster though it was lacking a lot as I brought him his tea. It was after all hard to look anything but pathetic when your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Sherlock sniffled as he drank his tea before he was sent into another bout of violent, hacking coughs. I shook my head at him fondly as I got up and went to my room, stretching as I pulled a blanket off of the high shelf in my closet. I came back with the woolen, handmade blanket and draped it over the consulting detective's shoulders, ignoring the looks he sent my way. Sherlock set his tea down on the coffee table and hacked into a tissue as he pulled the blanket tighter around his bony frame. The last thing I did was go into Sherlock's room, the first time I had ever entered it, and grabbed his pillows, bringing them back and fluffing them up on the couch. Sherlock stared at them for a few long moments before he swung his legs back around and onto the couch and laid down, propped up. Now that he was as comfortable as I could make him at four o'clock in the morning, I crossed over to his chair and sat down, reading my book. There was no way I was going to get back to sleep and there was a good chance that Sherlock would need me again.

I flicked my gaze over at him occasionally, only to find him lying on the couch in the fetal position with the blanket tightly pulled around him as he glared at me. This was how John found us a few hours later when he finally woke up and came down stairs. I looked up at him from my book and caught him staring at Sherlock who had turned over at some point and was facing the back of the couch as he shivered. I sighed and got up, walking past the staring army doctor and I went to my room, grabbing the thickest quilt off my bed. I brought it back to the couch and wrapped it tightly around Sherlock. The lump under the blankets curled tighter into them and I sighed, running my fingers through the curls sticking up from under the blankets. I looked back at John who was staring at me now with his mouth held open. I ran my fingers soothingly through Sherlock's curls one last time before I meaningfully walked over to John and pushed his mouth closed. I padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge, trying to figure out what I might give Sherlock to make him feel better. I had gone shopping, but I didn't have anything that would help treat a sick person. I was just about over my own cold, but I had a feeling that Sherlock's was more severe than mine had been. It seemed like he didn't get sick often but when he did it hit him all at once. John followed me into the kitchen his dressing gown hanging loosely around him as he looked at me and then back to the living room where Sherlock had turned again. His head was the only thing visible and he looked absolutely miserable.

"Is he sick?" John asked me and I sighed as I stood up straight and closed the refrigerator door.

"Yes, since last night," I told John as I turned around and leaned against the counter. "Could you watch him for a bit? I have to run down to Tesco's," I told John as I headed towards my bedroom. I could hear the wet hacking coughs coming from the living room and I frowned.

"What?" John asked me, his eyes going wide in surprise. "I thought you just went?" John asked me as I turned around and looked at him. He looked, well he looked scared, like he was scared to be alone with Sherlock.

"Yes, but I need things for Sherlock," I told John, running my hand through my hair. "Please, just for a bit. I don't like the way he sounds," I pleaded with John and he nodded slowly. "Thank you," I told the army doctor before going straight to me room and closing the door.

I pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a jumper before finding a hair tie and quickly pulling my hair into a messy ponytail. I grabbed my mobile from my bag and shoved it into my back pocket before I pulled my converse sneakers on. I also got my wallet and brought it with me as I walked out to the living room and shoved it into the pocket of my coat before I pulled it on. John was sitting in his chair on his laptop as Sherlock suddenly let out two very forceful sneezes before moaning and curling tighter into a ball. I frowned at him before going back to my room and standing on tip toes as I dragged a box down from the top shelf of my closet. I found what I was looking for, my small med kit back from my Uni days. I brought it back into the living room and knelt in front of Sherlock, opening it. I rummaged around until I found my thermometer and I slipped it under Sherlock's tongue despite his glares before I found my stethoscope. I put it on and opened Sherlock's blankets slight despite his protests before I listened to his lungs. I could hear a bit of gurgling which was why he was hacking so badly. He had mucus in his lungs which meant that he had a chest cold. If it wasn't treated it could get a lot worse. At least he lived with not one, but two doctors. I might never have practiced medicine, but I was still a doctor. I brushed the hair out of Sherlock's eyes as the thermometer beeped. He was 39 °C which meant he had a high fever. I ran a hand through my hair as Sherlock looked into my eyes looking miserable.

"I know sweetie," I told him, running my hands through his sweaty hair before I got up and put my stuff away. His forehead was warm and clammy as was only to be expected. I walked back to the bathroom and grabbed a flannel from the closet and ran it through the water before ringing it out. I brought it back to Sherlock and placed the cool cloth on his forehead before leaning down and kissing the top of his head. "I'll be back soon. Try and rest," I told him before looking up at John who was watching me. "I'll be back soon," I told John before I quickly headed out of the flat. The faster I left the sooner I could get back. I stood outside and took a deep breath before sighing. As smart as I was I didn't know how to make Sherlock more comfortable. He was miserable and rightly so. He was really sick and I frowned before making up my mind and taking out my mobile. There was one person who would know what to do. I nervously plugged in the number before raising my phone to my ear as I started my walk down the street to the shop around the corner. I didn't want to go as far as Tesco's with the way Sherlock was feeling.

"Hello," I heard an older woman answer on the other side of the phone and I bit my lip nervously. Here goes nothing.

"Hi, Mrs. Holmes, this is Lexi, Lexi MacKenna," I said as I looked both ways before crossing the street, hoping that she remembered me. Mycroft never officially gave me her phone number, but I had it committed to memory from the one time I had seen him call her. If anyone knew how to care for Sherlock when he was sick, it would be his mother.

"Oh hello Lexi dear. How are you? Is Myc with you?" Mrs. Holmes asked me sounding thrilled and I sighed in relief. This would have gone a whole lot differently if she didn't know who I was.

"I'm fine and no he isn't. I actually called because I sort of need your help," I told Mrs. Holmes, biting my lip again as I continued down the street.

"Is Myc being difficult? I swear that boy," Mrs. Holmes said and I laughed shaking my head even though she couldn't see me.

"No. No, he's actually not the problem. I'm actually calling about Sherlock," I told her as I made it to the store. I stood outside so that I could hear her properly as I shuffled from foot to foot. I didn't know why I was suddenly nervous to talk to Mummy Holmes. We always got on well in the past. Maybe because it was the first time I had talked to her when it was just me and when Mycroft wasn't trying to end our conversation.

"Sherlock? I didn't know you knew him dear. Now, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you," Mrs. Holmes said, slipping right into mother mode. I grinned slightly, only a Holmes would know.

"Sherlock is actually my flat mate. I still don't think Mycroft is happy with that," I told Mrs. Holmes and she laughed slightly before I continued with a sigh. "Sherlock is sick and I don't know what to do for him," I told Mrs. Holmes tiredly.

"Well then you called the right person. Does he have a temperature?" She asked me and I instantly felt better. That was what mothers were for. They took control of the situation and they always knew what to do.

"Yes 39 °C. I got him as comfortable as I could and then I ran out to the store. Our friend John, our other flatmate, is watching him," I told her, not wanting her to think I had just left her son alone when he was really sick.

I heard Mrs. Holmes sigh before she spoke again. "That boy. I try to tell him that he needs to rest between those cases of his but does he listen to his mother? He and Myc, the pair of them are as stubborn as mules. Don't worry honey. Now here is what you are going to do. Get some medicine in him and get him resting. No one ever died over a cold so just relax and don't sound so worried," Mrs. Holmes told me and I sighed before smiling slightly. I loved Sherlock's Mum. "He's even more stubborn when he's sick. He's the worst patient ever. For some reason he'll only eat grape ice lollies," Mrs. Holmes continued and I grinned at the tone of her voice. It was the typical mother ranting about their child tone. "He refuses to drink anything without a straw, don't ask me why. Now he doesn't like eating when he's sick, but then again he never has. I hope you're making sure he eats, he's so skinny," Mrs. Holmes tittered and I grinned at her mothering.

"I do. Sometimes even twice a day when I can manage it," I assured her and I heard her laugh on the other end of the phone.

"Now you sound like his mother honey. Let me give you this recipe. He would only ever eat this one soup when he was sick," Mrs. Holmes told me as I heard her shuffling around. "Are you ready dear?" She asked me and I assured her I was. I didn't need paper to remember everything. She made me recite everything back to her to make sure I had everything. "Now, if he gets to be too difficult you call me. I'll not have him taking advantage of you caring for him," Mrs. Holmes told me and I nodded with a grin on my face.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holmes," I told the older woman and I heard her clucking her tongue.

"Oh just Violet dear. Mrs. Holmes makes me sound too old," Mrs. Holmes laughed and I joined her. "Tell Myc and Sherlock to call me dear. Heaven knows they wouldn't call if I didn't get on them," She told me and I laughed again, nodding in agreement.

"I know, they're both incredibly difficult, but I love them," I told her and then I realized what I had said.

"I can tell. I'm glad my boys have someone to care for them. We'll have to properly meet soon. I'm sure you're busy. Myc told me you were a detective too, but we really must meet," Mrs. Holmes said and I hummed in agreement. "Promise me," Mrs. Holmes said and I laughed nodding again.

"Most definitely," I told her and once she was satisfied with my answer I hung up and put my mobile back into my pocket. She told me she would have to have me up to the Holmes' House soon enough as she wanted to meet the girl that Myc talked about and who was watching over her boys.

My initial nervousness at talking to her had worn off as she put me at ease. Part of me wondered if that was what it was like to have a mother. Someone who worried about you and went on and on about her children. I could tell how much she cared about her sons. Armed with the knowledge of how to take care of the consulting detective I entered the corner store and found everything to make the tomato soup that Sherlock supposedly would eat. I also picked up some severe cold and flu medicine, cough drops, straws, tissues, apple juice, and popsicles that were all grape. I thought about it for a long moment before I also got some cloves and lemons and a bottle of Irish whiskey. The Irish had their own natural remedies and if it didn't work for Sherlock the whiskey would work for John and me. I carried everything back to the flat and made it back upstairs where I heard Sherlock groaning into the couch. John looked relieved to see me as I brought the bags into the kitchen and started unloading everything and putting it away, leaving out the ingredients for the soup. I had gotten enough to make a double batch, enough to last Sherlock through his illness.

"Bored," I heard Sherlock whine from the couch, his voice horse. I sighed and went to the freezer, pulling out an ice lolly before I made my way back to the living room. Sherlock was lying on his back now and his cloth was lying in a wet heap on the floor. I could see what his mother meant. I shook my head as I bent and picked it up before it opened his Popsicle.

"Sit up," I told the sick detective and he looked up at me with a glare. I stared right back down at him, unwavering. "Sit up," I told him again and he finally shuffled upright. "Now, eat your ice lolly," I told him as I handed it to him and he eyed it in disgust.

"I only like grape," He told me, as he held it out for me to take away. I grinned at him and patted his arm which earned me another glare.

"I know," I told him before I walked away into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock staring after me. I threw Sherlock's cloth into the bathroom before I washed my hands and pulled out a cutting board and a large pot. I opened the whiskey and took a shot of it before putting the bottle on top of the fridge. Now I was ready. I stood chopping up the ingredients for the soup at the kitchen table which afforded me a view of the living room. Sherlock was eating his ice lolly slowly and I grinned. I turned about, getting everything in the pot before I wiped my hands off and set the soup on to simmer. It would be ready in a few hours, just in time for lunch. I moved back to the fridge and pulled out the apple juice before I found a clean cup and pour Sherlock a glass. I carried it with me after grabbing a straw, an evil thought popping into my head. "I'll take that and you can have this," I told Sherlock as I offered a trade of his ice lolly stick for the juice. He made the trade but then stared down at the cup with a frown as he sniffled.

"I won't drink it without a straw," Sherlock told me as he looked up at me, raising his eyebrow slightly as if he was challenging me to see how I would react. I smiled at him and pulled the straw out from my back pocket and popped it into his cup, bending it in the process.

"Enjoy," I told him as he stared back at me with a glare as I turned and made my way back to the kitchen. John followed my movement and he looked at me in shock. I stirred the soup as I heard a sound behind me and found John walking into the kitchen.

"How?" John asked me as he looked at me and then at Sherlock who had his arms crossed, his blankets falling off of him as he drank his juice through his straw. I smiled fondly at him and nodded before I turned back to John. "How can you put up with him?" John asked me in exasperation. "Ever since you left he kept complaining he was bored or complaining in general. How can you not yell at him for acting like that?" John asked me and I patted him on the arm and smirked at him.

"Women John, we know how to take care of people when they're sick. And as for him, I know how to handle him," I told John smiling at my inside joke. Mrs. Holmes, I still wasn't comfortable calling her Violet, had told me the secret of how to really handle Sherlock and Mycroft. It was a skill I would use sparingly. John shook his head at me in exasperation before he left and went back to his chair. I got the medicine next and poured Sherlock's dose into the cup before going back to him. I held it out to him and stared him down until he took it, grimacing at the taste. "I know, it's disgusting," I told him as I took the cup back from him that he shoved at me. I opened one of the tissue boxes and put it on the coffee table within arm's reach before I pulled a rubbish bin out and put it next to the couch for him. I pulled the blankets back around his shoulders before I put a hand to his forehead. I nodded in approval. He was slightly less warm.

I returned to my kitchen and stayed in there taking care of my soup. I listened to Sherlock's hacking coughs and violent sneezing for a half an hour as I worked in the kitchen before I went to my room and changed into a pair of sweat pants and one of Sherlock's bed shirts, the one he had lent me on my first night in the flat. I returned to the living room and sat on the end of the couch, settling myself against Sherlock's pillows before I grabbed the consulting detective by the shoulder and pulled him down so he was resting against me. He flailed around a bit as he slid around before he fell into my chest with a grunt. I grinned down at him as he glared up at me and I ignored him as I picked up the remote and flicked on the telly. I brought my other hand up and started carding my fingers through his curls as I turned on Doctor Who. I settled in and watched telly as Sherlock glared up at me. I wasn't at all bothered and I rubbed his back soothingly as he sat up a bit to cough. The first time he had done so he had lowered himself back down and had squirmed a bit before getting comfortable. I grinned without looking at him and I met John's eyes once as he looked at me in surprise.

About the second episode in I heard a sniffling coming from Sherlock and I looked down to find him asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly. I smiled fondly down at him and bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before I continued watching telly and running my fingers through his hair. I fell asleep myself at some point and I woke up to Sherlock asleep on me still, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the flat. John was still in his chair and I could tell that he had gotten up at some point and changed the channel as the news was on instead of Doctor Who. I didn't want to wake Sherlock up, but he needed to get up and eat something. I rubbed my hand down Sherlock's arm until he woke up and he lifted one eyelid and stared at me before groaning and turning into me as he curled up tighter. I grinned at how childish he was acting before I slipped out from under him and put his head down on his pillows. I patted John's shoulder as I passed him, stretching. I yawned as I shuffled into the kitchen and found three clean bowls. The soup was done and it smelt heavenly. I would have to thank Mummy Holmes for the recipe. I made sure that Sherlock's soup was cool enough before I brought a bowl to John and then brought Sherlock's to him. He took the bowl from me and stared at it for a long moment as I put my hands on my hips and waited.

"Just try it. If you don't like it you don't have to eat it," I told Sherlock as he looked up at me sniffling, his curls all mussed up. He looked even more like a child when he did that, a slight pout on his face. He slowly raised his spoon to his mouth and slurped up his soup before dropping his spoon back into his bowl with a clink. He stared up at me with a new emotion behind his eyes that I couldn't place. I frowned as I watched him. "Aright Sherlock?" I asked him, confused about his reaction. His mother said he would eat it.

"You called Mycroft?" Sherlock growled out before he started coughing violently. I shook my head at him as I walked back towards the kitchen. I popped my head back inside of the living room and smirked at Sherlock.

"Oh no. I didn't" I told him as I grabbed my soup and brought it back to the living room, sitting in Sherlock's chair as the consulting detective glared at me murderously. I raised a spoon full of soup to my mouth and tasted it before sighing in delight. The Holmes' family recipe for tomato soup was to die for. I looked back at Sherlock who was just holding his bowl of soup and not touching it. "I called you mother," I told Sherlock and I saw his eyes widen largely.

"You called Mummy?" Sherlock choked out and I nodded at him as I ate more of my soup. I caught John's eye just as he started choking on his soup. He coughed as Sherlock shot a dirty look at him before he quieted, his eyes watering.

"Yes," I told him as I looked over at him. "Now eat your soup," I told him, watching him until he did. I nodded in satisfaction and the next few minutes were filled with our spoons clicking against the bowls. I got up when Sherlock had finished and took his bowl from him and John's before going back to the kitchen and cleaning them, setting them to dry.

"You called Mummy?" Sherlock asked me again as I walked into the living room and resumed my position in Sherlock's chair. I looked over at him and noticed he was watching me with wide eyes. I nodded at him and smiled slightly.

"Mother's know best how to take care of their children when their sick," I said with a shrug before looking down at my hands and playing with the ties on my sweatpants. "At least that's what I've heard," I continued looking up at Sherlock who frowned at me suddenly. "She still wants to meet me," I told Sherlock with a grin and the consulting detective growled slightly.

"Of course she does," Sherlock said as he laid back on the couch and curled up into a ball, coughing into his tissue. I raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take that comment before shrugging it off. John and I found some game show to watch. John looked to me every time a question was asked and I always had the right answer. Around six, Sherlock turned around, his nose red, his eyes struggling to stay open. "Lexi," He whined and I looked over at him. He sniffled again and I shook my head at him fondly.

"What do you need sweetie?" I asked him as I got up from my chair and walked over to the couch, running my fingers through his hair. I didn't miss when he pushed his head up into my hand.

"Can I have another ice lolly?" He asked me and I grinned down at him and nodded. "And some juice?" He added and I laughed before bending down and kissing the top of his head.

"As much as you want," I told him before taking his cup back to the kitchen to refill it. I brought him back his juice and ice lolly and settled him back down as I went back to my chair. The time passed as John and I watched TV and I looked up to see that it was getting late. I looked over at Sherlock who was watching the TV with a frown on his face though I could see his eyes drooping. I smiled fondly at the consulting detective before I hauled myself out of Sherlock's chair. "Come on sweetie," I told Sherlock as I helped him sit upright and grabbed his pillows. "Let's get you to bed," I told him as he blinked up at me. I helped him stand and noticed he was shivering again. I got him to follow me back to his room and I managed to get him to lay down after I set his pillows up so that he could sit up enough. He sort of fell onto the bed and wrapped himself under a pile of blankets. I giggled as I stretched across him trying to smooth his blankets out. "Sherlock," I giggled as he popped his head out of the blankets and blinked at me, his face blank. I managed to straighten out his blankets, the woollen one on top as I tucked him in and made sure he was comfortable. I bustled around his room, not concerned about the bubbling experiments in the corner or the odd smell or even the pile of clothes in the corner. I set up his vaporizer before crossing back over to the bed and sitting beside him. I noticed his frown and frowned myself. "What's wrong? Not comfortable?" I asked him and he watched me curiously.

"Why?" Sherlock asked me suddenly and I looked at him in confusion. "Why do you care?" Sherlock continued as I fussed with his blanket again.

"Because I care about you and we take care of those we love," I told him and he frowned at me again before his face softened. "Night Sherlock," I told the consulting detective, taking a deep breath before I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Sleep tight. If you need anything just call for me," I told him before getting up and leaving his room, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the closed door and sighed heavily, biting my lip. Why had I kissed him? I wasn't sure but it felt right doing it. I shook my head before walking back into the kitchen. The soup was cool enough now for me to pop the covered pot into the fridge, right next to the cow tongue. I popped back into the living room and looked over at John. "I'm going to pop off to bed. I'll see you tomorrow," I told John and he wished me a good night. I decided on taking a quick shower before bed and I changed back into my sweatpants and shirt before crawling into bed. I wrapped myself in my blankets and sighed before rolling onto my back. One thing I had realized was that I was hopelessly and tragically in love with Sherlock Holmes.

I loved Sherlock Holmes beyond any reason. It wasn't logical. Sherlock was married to his work and I knew that but I loved him. I loved him beyond all reason. And maybe it was time I didn't do the logical thing. I always lived my life by doing the logical thing and maybe it was time that I didn't. Maybe it was time for me to take a risk. Sherlock was worth the risk. He was…he was so much more than everyone thought he was. He was the most beautiful person I had ever known. People saw him as being arrogant or far worse than that, but I saw a side of Sherlock Holmes that no one else ever got to see. Sherlock, he did care. He acted like he didn't but I could see that he did, possibly more than anyone. But like me, he cared and he got hurt so he acted like he didn't care and that it didn't hurt. It was time for someone to show him that you didn't always have to get hurt if you cared. Sherlock deserved love and if that was with me or someone else, it was time someone showed him that they could love him because a part of me believed that he never expected anyone to love him. And I did, I loved Sherlock Holmes, without reason, without hope, without thought…I just didn't know what to do about it.

**Sherlock's POV**

What had started as just a few sniffles and light coughing had quickly turned into a very bad cold overnight. In the earlier hours of the morning one very grumpy consulting detective had found himself caught in the midst of a coughing fit. Lexi had tried to comfort him by rubbing soothing circles on his back as he hacked, but that had ended with him snapping at her. He was not a child! He was surprised when she just got up and made tea for him. Sherlock glared at her with the most hatred he could muster though it was lacking a lot as Lexi brought him his tea. It was after all hard to look anything but pathetic when your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Sherlock sniffled as he drank his tea before he was sent into another bout of violent, hacking coughs. Lexi shook her head at him before she got up and left the room. She came back a minute later with a woollen, handmade blanket and draped it over the consulting detective's shoulders. Sherlock sent a dirt look her way. He set his tea down on the coffee table quickly before he hacked into a tissue, pulling the blanket tighter around his bony frame. This was her fault. He hardly ever got sick and then because she lived there and was sick he had caught her cold. Lexi got up again and left the room before she came back with the pillows from his bed and fluffed them up on the couch. Sherlock stared at them for a few long moments. She had gone into his room. Why? He stared for another long moment before he swung his legs back around and onto the couch and laid down, propped up. Lexi crossed over to his chair and sat down, pulling out her book and starting to read it.

Sherlock watched her closely as she read. The way the light from the lamp that had been left on hit her hair it made it look like it was on fire. Lexi flicked her gaze over at him occasionally and he stared back at her from his spot in the fetal position, the blanket wrapped tightly around him. This was how John found them a few hours later when he finally woke up and came down stairs. Sherlock heard the army doctor but didn't see him as he had turned over and face the back of the couch. A chill made him shiver. He felt hot and then cold in rapid succession. Sherlock heard Lexi sigh before she started walking somewhere in the flat. She came back into the living room and Sherlock suddenly felt her wrapping something tightly around him. Sherlock curled tighter into the blanket which he realized came off of Lexi's bed as it carried her scent. The girl sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. Sherlock felt something in his chest, a warm feeling as she ran her fingers through his curls one last time before she walked away. He found himself listening purposefully as she padded into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Sherlock turned around so he could see into the kitchen, looking at Lexi. John had followed her inside and for all his attempt at being quiet, Sherlock could still hear everything he was saying.

"Is he sick?" John asked Lexi and she sighed as she stood up straight and closed the refrigerator door.

"Yes, since last night," Lexi told John as she turned around and leaned against the counter. "Could you watch him for a bit? I have to run down to Tesco's," Lexi told John as she walked back towards her bedroom. Sherlock suddenly was caught in a bout of wet hacking coughs that hurt his chest. He groaned and grumbled to himself.

"What?" John asked Lexi and Sherlock could hear the surprise in his voice. "I thought you just went?" John asked Lexi and Sherlock held his breath, waiting to hear her answer.

"Yes, but I need things for Sherlock," Lexi told John before continuing. "Please, just for a bit. I don't like the way he sounds," Lexi pleaded with John he seemed to have given her some sign of agreement as she continued. "Thank you," She told the army doctor Sherlock hear her walk into her room and close the door.

John returned to the living room and promptly sat down in his chair. He threw a look at Sherlock before he picked up his laptop and started doing something unimportant on it. Sherlock let out two very forceful sneezes as Lexi walked back into the room and he moaned in pain as the action hurt his chest. He curled tighter in on himself before Lexi left the room again. She came back a moment later carrying a medical bag. She walked over to the couch and knelt in front of him as she opened her bag. She rummaged around in her bag and produced a thermometer. She slipped it under his tongue despite the glare he sent her way. She dug into her bag again and pulled out a stethoscope which she put on. Sherlock tried to protest as she attempted to pull his blankets apart but he was ignored as she opened them slightly and started listening to his lungs. Sherlock fumed at her mollycoddling. Lexi brushed the hair out of his eyes as the thermometer beeped. He could see her frown slightly as she looked at the reading though he was sure that she hadn't noticed herself doing it. Her nose crinkled slightly when she frowned. It was adorable actually. The girl ran a hand through her hair as Sherlock looked at her, their eyes meeting.

"I know sweetie," Lexi told him, running her hands through his hair before she got up and put her stuff away. She walked away and Sherlock could hear her in the bathroom and the water running before she came back out and walked back into the living room. She came over and put a cool cloth in his forehead before she leant over him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll be back soon. Try and rest," Lexi told him before she looked up at John who was watching her. "I'll be back soon," Lexi told John before she quickly headed out of the flat.

Sherlock laid still for a long while contemplating Lexi's actions. She had called him sweetie, an endearing term. It was the first time she had ever used it. He recalled that she called him love a few times. Odd that. He needed more data to figure out what it meant. She only ever used the term with him, not with John. Then there was the fact that she had kissed his head. That wasn't the first time. She kissed John occasionally, on the cheek, in passing, but it seemed different with him. With John he noticed that she did it without hesitating, but with him she normally hesitated. That suggested that she was more uncomfortable kissing him than John. That could suggest she was attracted to John. That didn't fit though. She seemed to veer more towards him than she did towards John. Not to mention she always hung on him, put her head on his shoulder. During the Chinese case she had protected him multiple times. She had fought an assassin in their flat for him, saved his life in Soo Lin's flat, and then she had fought with a warrior much larger than her in order to save his life once again. Sherlock huffed in irritation. What did it all mean? He turned onto his side and looked at John.

"John," Sherlock complained as he huffed and switched to his back, not even worrying when the cloth fell off of his head and onto the floor in a heap. "Jaawwn," Sherlock complained again as John ignored him. He heard the army doctor sigh heavily as Sherlock turned onto his stomach, one hand falling over the side of the couch. "JAAAWWWN," Sherlock said louder before huffing in irritation.

"What Sherlock?! What could you possibly want?" John finally snapped at him and Sherlock sighed heavily before he started coughing again and as forced to sit him right until he quieted.

"Bored!" Sherlock complained as he flopped back down on his pillows.

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you're ill," John shot back at him before ignoring him again. Sherlock whimpered before muttering "Bored" again weakly. Sherlock laid on his couch tossing and turning until he heard the door open down stairs. Lexi made it back upstairs as Sherlock groaned into the couch, bored out of his mind. He listened as she unloaded everything in the kitchen.

"Bored," Sherlock whined his voice hoarse as he hoped to get Lexi's attention. He heard her sighed and the freezer open as he rolled onto his back again. Sherlock watched her as she walked over and sighed, bending to pick up the cloth that had fallen off of his head before she opened an ice lolly wrapper.

"Sit up," She told the sick detective and he looked up at her with a glare. She stared right back down at him, unwavering. "Sit up," She told him again and he finally shuffled upright. "Now, eat your ice lolly," Lexi told him as she handed it to him and he eyed it in disgust. He didn't like ice lollies except for the grape ones.

"I only like grape," He told her, holding it out for her to take away. She suddenly grinned at him and patted his arm which earned her another glare.

"I know," She told him before she walked away into the kitchen, leaving Sherlock to stare after her. Sherlock eyed the frozen treat and sniffed it, smelling the hint of grape through his stuffy nose. He hadn't told her what he liked so how had she known? Deduced it obviously, but how? As a bit of the ice lolly melted and got all over his hands, Sherlock tentatively licked the frozen treat before sucking on it a bit. Grape as she said. He would never admit that the cool treat felt good on his sore throat. He finished his ice lolly and sat there upright just as Lexi came back into the living room carrying a cup in one hand. "I'll take that and you can have this," She told Sherlock as she offered a trade of his ice lolly stick for the juice. He made the trade put then stared down at the cup with a frown as he sniffled.

"I won't drink it without a straw," Sherlock told her as he looked up at the girl, raising his eyebrow slightly in challenge. He wanted to see what she would say, what she would do. Most people would have blown up at him in exasperation and started yelling. Therefore he was surprised when the girl just smiled at him again and pulled a straw out from behind her. She popped it into his cup, bending it in the process.

"Enjoy," She told him as he stared back at her with a glare as she turned and made my way back to the kitchen to do whatever she was doing in there. Sherlock could see her stirring something in a pot, no doubt attempting to make something she thought he might eat. She would be sadly mistaken then. John got up and followed her into the kitchen as Sherlock sipped at his juice, listening to them.

"How?" John asked Lexi as he looked at her and then at Sherlock who crossed his arms, his blankets falling off of him as he drank his juice through his straw. Lexi turned and smiled at him before nodding and turning back to John. "How can you put up with him?" John asked her in exasperation. "Ever since you left he kept complaining he was bored or complaining in general. How can you not yell at him for acting like that?" John asked her and Sherlock quirked one eyebrow, interested to hear her response. The girl patted him on the arm and smirked at him.

"Women John, we know how to take care of people when they're sick. And as for him, I know how to handle him," She told John smiling as if she knew something he didn't. John shook his head at her in exasperation before he left and went back to his chair. Sherlock watched as Lexi bustled about the kitchen, pouring something into a small measuring cup before she walked over to him. She held the cup out to him and he realized that it was some sort of medicine. Well, he wasn't going to take it. Lexi stared him down at him and he could see a sort of determination in her eyes as if she wouldn't leave him alone until he took it from her. He took the cup from her and downed the horrible liquid which burnt his throat and left a horrible taste in his mouth. He grimaced in disgust as he tried to rid his mouth of the taste. "I know, it's disgusting," Lexi told him as she took the cup back from him which he had shoved at her. She opened one of the tissue boxes and put it on the coffee table within arm's reach before she pulled a rubbish bin out and put it next to the couch for him. Lexi pulled the blankets back around his shoulders before she put a hand to his forehead. She nodded in approval before she walked back to the kitchen.

Sherlock sat upright for the next half hour, drinking his juice as he hacked and suffered from violent sneezing. Lexi came back out to the living room dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt Sherlock immediately recognized as his own. The bed shirt hung off her frame loosely. She was even smaller than he was and that was saying something. She sat on the end of the couch, settling herself against Sherlock's pillows before she suddenly grabbed the consulting detective by the shoulder and pulled him down so he was resting against her. Sherlock flailed around a bit as he slid around before he fell into Lexi's chest with a grunt. The girl grinned down at him as he glared up at her. She seemed to ignore him as she just picked up the remote and flicked on the telly. She brought her other hand up and started carding her fingers through his curls as she turned on Doctor Who. Lexi settled in and watched telly as Sherlock glared up at her. What was she doing? Women. Sherlock sat up as a nasty coughing spell overtook him again and Lexi rubbed his back in what she probably thought was a soothing manner. He found himself lowering himself back down so his back was propped up against her body and he squirmed to get comfortable. The couch really wasn't made for two people who were both relatively tall. Sherlock caught her grin down at him.

As she carded her fingers through his hair, Sherlock began to feel his eyes droop as he attempted to ignore whatever show Lexi had put on. It was just some idiot running around with a blonde on screen and using some stupid tool which apparently worked on everything but wood. Lexi seemed invested in the show and didn't seem to notice when he finally lost the battle with his eyelids and he fell asleep. He woke briefly as he felt Lexi shift before feeling her press another kiss to the top of his head before her fingers resumed their movement through his hair. He fell asleep again the illness causing his suffering forcing his body to sleep. It was irritating that his body was failing him. He was suddenly awoken as he felt a hand running down the length of his arm. Sherlock lifted one heavy eyelid and stared up at the girl before groaning and turning into her as he curled up tighter. All he wanted to do was sleep. Lexi suddenly slipped out from under him and Sherlock found himself missing the warmth of her body as she put his head down on his pillows. He would never admit that fact aloud. Sherlock watched as she yawned, shuffling into the kitchen as she dug around in the cupboards. Sherlock sat up as Lexi walked back into the living room carrying two bowls. Sherlock took the bowl from her and stared down at the red liquid inside of it that was slightly steaming. The girl put her hands on her hips, seemingly waiting for something.

"Just try it. If you don't like it you don't have to eat it," Lexi told Sherlock as he looked up at her sniffling as the steam cleared his congestion a bit. He slowly raised his spoon to his mouth and slurped up his soup before dropping his spoon back into his bowl with a clink. He stared up at her feeling betrayed. Knowing about the ice lollies or even the straw was one thing, but this was going too far. She knew. She of all people should know how he felt. Lexi frowned as she watched him. "Aright Sherlock?" She asked him, confusion evident on her face. Ah, the attempt to act innocent.

"You called Mycroft?" Sherlock growled out before he started coughing violently. Lexi shook her head at him as she walked back towards the kitchen, Sherlock continuing to hack. She suddenly popped her head back inside of the living room and smirked at Sherlock.

"Oh no. I didn't," She told him as she grabbed her bowl and brought it back to the living room, sitting in Sherlock's chair as the consulting detective glared at her murderously. She raised a spoon full of soup to her mouth and tasted it before sighing in delight. She looked back at Sherlock who was just holding his bowl of soup and not touching it as he waited for her to continue. "I called you mother," Lexi told Sherlock and he froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You called Mummy?" Sherlock choked out and Lexi nodded at him as she ate more of her soup. John started choking on his soup and Sherlock shot him a dirty look. She had called Mummy. Why? How had she even known how to call her? Surely Mycroft wouldn't have let her know the number. If there was anything they could ever agree on it was that Lexi and their mother should stay as far away from each other as possible.

"Yes," Lexi told him as she looked over at him. "Now eat your soup," She told him, watching him until he did. She nodded in satisfaction as Sherlock ate begrudgingly. It was rather good, as good as he remembered, but the simple fact that she had called his mother was still nagging at him. Lexi got up when Sherlock had finished and took his bowl from him and John's before going back to the kitchen. Sherlock listened as she cleaned up the dishes, thinking.

"You called Mummy?" Sherlock asked Lexi again as she walked into the living room and resumed her position in Sherlock's chair. She looked over at him as Sherlock looked at her in surprise still. Calling his mother. Wasn't that something one did when they were worried about someone? Sentiment, he must have deleted most of that knowledge. Lexi nodded at him and smiled slightly.

"Mother's know best how to take care of their children when their sick," Lexi said with a shrug before looking down at her hands and playing with the ties on her sweatpants. "At least that's what I've heard," She continued looking up at Sherlock who frowned at her. She never had a mother to take care of her when she was sick. Was that why she was mothering him? It was so sentimental, that craving to be taken care of, but it was also so completely Lexi. She was entirely sentimental with everything she did. Normally it would have bothered Sherlock, but she seemed to be the exception to his belief that caring wasn't an advantage. "She still wants to meet me," Lexi told Sherlock with a grin and the consulting detective growled slightly.

"Of course she does," Sherlock said as he laid back on the couch and curled up into a ball, coughing into his tissue. Of course his mother wanted to meet her. No doubt she wanted to stick her nose into his business. She had been on him about "settling down" since he was out of Uni. He had told her he had met a girl once just to get her to leave off of him. It wasn't exactly a lie. He had met a girl, just he never got her name, one of Molly's friends who worked with her, she had just been in the lab one day and he had only seen her for one second, some red head or maybe a blonde. He could barely remember her now. She was unimportant. Sherlock listened as John and Lexi found some game show to watch. Every time a question was asked Lexi always responded with the right answer. Sherlock listened to her, feeling a sense of pride every time it was confirmed she was right as if he had been the one to give the right answer. Around six, Sherlock turned around, his nose red, his eyes struggling to stay open. He decided to test the waters to see how far he could go. "Lexi," He whined and she looked over at him without hesitation. That was another thing he noted that was different between her and John. She always answered him immediately whereas he had to call for John several times. Sherlock sniffled and Lexi shook her head with an odd look on her face.

"What do you need sweetie?" Lexi asked him as she got up from her chair and walked over to the couch, running her fingers through his hair. Sherlock couldn't stop himself as he suddenly pushed his head up into her hand before he cursed himself for doing so.

"Can I have another ice lolly?" Sherlock asked Lexi, expecting her to complain about how she had been taking care of him all day. He was surprised when she grinned down at him and nodded. "And some juice?" He added, seeing what her reaction would be to an additional request. She laughed before bending down and kissing the top of his head again.

"As much as you want," Lexi told him before taking his cup back to the kitchen to refill it. She brought him back his juice and ice lolly and settled him back down before she went back to her chair. The time passed as John and Lexi watched TV. Sherlock watched whatever mindless drivel they had on as it was the only thing he had to pass the time. He deduced those on the show and found several with affairs, three who were growing broke, and one man who was attempting to act straight, but was definitely gay if the looks he kept sending the host where any indication. Sherlock frowned as his eyes began drooping again. He fought against sleep as Lexi suddenly hauled herself out of his chair. "Come on sweetie," She told Sherlock as she helped him sit upright and grabbed his pillows. "Let's get you to bed," Lexi told him as he blinked up at me. She helped him stand and Sherlock shivered as he felt the cold hit his bare feet. He followed her back to his room and he stood watching her as she propped his pillows up. He walked forward when she stepped back and fell onto the bed, wrapping himself tightly under his pile of blankets. He heard Lexi giggle as she suddenly stretched across him, trying to smooth out his blankets. "Sherlock," She giggled again as he popped his head out of the blankets and blinked at her, his face blank. Lexi managed to straighten out his blankets, the woollen one on top as she tucked him in and made sure he was comfortable. She bustled around his room setting up his vaporizer before crossing back over to the bed and sitting beside him. Sherlock frowned at her in confusion and she frowned back at him suddenly "What's wrong? Not comfortable?" Lexi asked him and he watched her curiously.

"Why?" Sherlock asked her the question which he had been thinking for a while. Lexi looked at him in confusion, her face screwing up in an adorable way. "Why do you care?" Sherlock continued as she fussed with his blanket again.

"Because I care about you and we take care of those we love," Lexi told him and he frowned at her again before his face softened in realization. We take care about those we love. Love. She said she loved him. "Night Sherlock," Lexi told the consulting detective, taking a deep breath before she suddenly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Sleep tight. If you need anything just call for me," Lexi told him in a slight rush before getting up and leaving his room, shutting the door behind her. Sherlock laid in bed for a long moment, feeling a warmth spread into his chest. The monster that had settled there roared in triumph and Sherlock found himself smirking. Love. The word kept repeating over and over in his mind like a mantra. _Lovelovelove. _ He never had expected anyone to ever use that word in reference to him. He wasn't an idiot. He knew people found him rude, insufferable, and exasperating as well as a freak, and a psychopath. He never expected someone to say that they loved him in whatever context. Sherlock listen for a long moment. He listened as the water turned on in the bathroom and waited until the sound of the door next to his room closed signalling that Lexi had gone to bed. Sherlock groaned with the realization that he was hopelessly and tragically in love with Lexi MacKenna. It would have surprised him to find out that right now, she was thinking the exact same thing as him.

He loved her. It wasn't logical but he loved her. Love had always been a mystery to him. He had always fought against sentiment, believed caring to be a disadvantage but someone Lexi had become the exception to all of that. She was making him feel all these new emotions. He felt anxious when she wasn't with him which was why he was keeping her with him whenever they went out on a case together. His heart dropped and he felt fear whenever Lexi was in danger. He could be sure when John was in danger that he could take care of himself. John had been in the army, he was strong but Lexi seemed so fragile. It wasn't because she was a woman but because she hurt herself so often. She only got hurt because she protected him. Then, Lexi made him feel jealous. Lexi's call to her friend in America had left him feeling bitter and resentful towards "Spence." He could deduce from both Lexi and the yopung man's tones that they were good friends. Lexi considered him to be an equal at least because he had an eidetic memory like she did. He had to be intelligent too. He however had a crush on Lexi and it was hard not to. The first male also had some sort of attachment to her.

And that was Lexi. Everyone who met her fell in love someway. She didn't think she had friends or was even important but she was more that she would ever know. She was beautiful even if she didn't see it herself. Then Lexi had gone out with John and he felt a mixture of anxiousness and jealousy. It was so easy for John to go out with her. They were friends, only friends and as John had told him, Lexi was like a sister to him. But it was hard for Sherlock. He didn't know what to talk to her about or even where to take her. They were…friends but it was somehow different when they went out together than when Lexi went out with John. Lexi had kissed him too. It was subtle, done not by conscious thought, but she had still done it. So, on some subconscious level she was attracted to him. Maybe…possibly she did love him too. And maybe it was time that he took a risk. He spent all his time doing the logical thing, listening to his brother who told him not to care. Sherlock was saying no more, he would care about her even if his brother warned him against caring. Mycroft could piss off. He loved Lexi even if it wasn't logical, even if it was beyond reason. And she was worth the risk of putting himself out there, she was worth everything. Sherlock Holmes loved Lexi MacKenna…he just didn't know what to do about it yet.


	46. The Great Game

**(A/N)**

**I'd like to start this author note by answering a review from go get it. Thank you for enjoying my story. As for the blaming John or Lexi for my bad grammar, this is a humorous and advantageous way of me saying that I know there might be something I missed, but I don't really care. Commenting on how, "I find it hard to believe you are successfully completing Uni courses if you're turning in papers with such frequent errors" I would like to inform you that I have had a 4.0 GPA since I started Uni and I am at the top of all my classes. I am quite successful in my studies I assure you. I do however spend less time editing my fanfiction than I do my novels, of which I have written and published two, and my papers and projects for my Uni classes. I am not perfect and due to my visual problems, of which I have mentioned several times in author notes, I tend to sometimes miss occasional errors. I apologize, I forgot that I was categorized as legally blind. Despite this I still manage to write this story and post longer chapters than anyone else on the site, more frequently updated than most stories too. **

**Now, I'm all for constructive criticism, but nothing in your review was in any way constructive and was actually a bit insulting. I'd like it officially said that if any of my readers have any problems with the way I write the story, the things I add or change from the episodes, that this is my story. I will tell it as I see fit and if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. And as the Baker Street crew would like to add, kindly piss off. **

**For the people that may care, I just went to my GP this morning and we are running more tests to see if my vision loss is a medical rather than an optical cause. I had bloodwork today and I go for an MRI soon. I will keep you updated when I know anything. I know some of you such as Kimmy, Mr. Smith, K-9, and Owl care about what is going on as well as others and wanted to know what I found out. **

**Now that that is all taken care of, please enjoy the first chapter of the Great Game, the case which finally sees our detectives together. There is some lead up, but I'm sure you'll notice the difference between them until they finally admit it. Moriarty is here and how will the case pan out? Let's see, Allons-y!**

**Update: Yes, I know this is a day early now. It's been a tiring week and I somehow believed it was already Saturday. A day early, there you go. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty Four- The Great Game<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

It took a week for Sherlock to finally get over his cold. He was sweet at first and then he had a temper tantrum because he was bored with no cases. John, the bastard, seemed to always have to be out of the house. In reality I knew he was just avoiding being in the flat around Sherlock. Mycroft even seemed to disappear for the week as he obviously didn't want to have to deal with his brother. I ended up talking to Mummy Holmes at least two other times. We talked about Sherlock and then we started chatting as Mummy wanted to know more about me. Towards the end of the week John was forced to spend more time in the flat because he had been laid off from the surgery. One of the doctor's he was filling in for had come back to work and now he was unemployed again. In all honesty it made it easier for Sherlock and me as we would have to steal him from work for cases anyway and now he would be free for our use at any moment. Speaking of cases, towards the end of the week Sherlock and I had been contacted by an inmate in Belarus who wanted us to come and visit him and consider taking his case. John let me borrow his suitcase so I wouldn't have to get mine from storage and my room was a mess as I tried to find what to bring. The weather was going to be very cold and I had hauled all my jumpers out of my closet, finding most of them to be probably too thin. Sherlock had returned to the flat the day before our flight with a new jacket for me that was red with a wool interior and had fur around the hood. He also had bought me several pairs of socks like the thick woollen ones I had stolen from him and a few thicker jumpers. John had opted to sit out of this case and therefore, Sherlock and I had flown to Minsk on our own.

Thanks to Mycroft we had a nice hotel in the city and a large two bedroom suite. Sherlock and I had taken in the city during our first night in Belarus, enjoying a lovely dinner together at one of the city's finest restaurants. We actually got to sit down and talk, laughing over some of our experiments that went wrong and John's reactions to them before we lapsed into small talk about books, music, and movies we enjoyed or despised. Thankfully for Sherlock and me, I knew Russian so we didn't have to deal with a language barrier. The night went perfectly and Sherlock and I had finished off the evening by walking around the city together and enjoying the beauty of a new skyline. We had returned to our hotel and I had said goodnight to Sherlock before taking a long bath and getting a good night's rest. The next morning we had gotten up early to head over to the prison. I had dressed in a pair of dark jeans and the crème coloured woollen jumper Sherlock had gotten me which fell slightly off my shoulders. He was rather good at choosing clothing that was to my personal tastes. After bundling into my new coat and plaid scarf and pulling on my riding boots, Sherlock and I had left for breakfast down stairs. We joked and chatted over our eggs and toast and I found myself selfishly glad that John had decided to stay at home. I liked spending time with Sherlock. He was so different when it was just the two of us, the way Mycroft was different when it was only him and me. After breakfast it had been a cab ride over to the prison which involved me yelling at the angry cabbie in Russian as Sherlock sat back and watched us. Apparently the cabbie hadn't assumed we actually knew what he was saying and I caught him muttering something about how Sherlock should be the one in prison after Sherlock had deduced him when he thought the cabbie wasn't driving fast enough. We made it to the prison without further issue and I had spoken with the guards and gotten everything sorted for our meeting.

We were shown in to a prison visitors' room and Sherlock and I sat on one side of one of the many tables in the room while on the other side of the table sat Barry 'Bezza' Berwick, a young Englishman who had gotten himself into a spot of trouble in Belarus. With the exception of a uniformed guard who stood some distance away from us, we were the only people in the room. The room was very cold and I could see the steam coming out of our mouths every time we spoke. We agreed to hear him out before we made our decision of whether or not to take his case. Upon first inspection of him I could tell that Barry was a possessive and violent man when provoked. He was not innocent of his crime and Sherlock, having deduced the same thing I had was already bored. I shot him a slight grin before he turned forward and looked at Barry closely.

"Just tell us what happened, from the beginning," Sherlock told Barry slowly as if he was speaking to a child. I snorted slightly and tried not to grin as I sat and watched the two of them. Sherlock wanted to do the talking as he didn't want me to speak to Barry unless necessary as he had a violent history. We had however agreed that at some point I would have to provoke him into anger which, seeing as his case had to do with him murdering his girlfriend, I didn't think it was going to be too difficult a task. I felt very calm next to Sherlock despite the situation.

"We'd been to a bar – a nice place – and, er, I got chattin' with one of the waitresses, and Karen weren't 'appy with that, so ... when we get back to the 'otel, we end up havin' a bit of a ding-dong, don't we?" Barry asked us and I winced visibly at his terrible grammar and verbiage. Sherlock sighed out a deliberate and noisy breath and I looked across at him and smirked slightly. "She was always gettin' at me, sayin' I weren't a real man," Barry said and Sherlock interrupted him as I winced again.

"Wasn't a real man," Sherlock corrected him in a bored tone, but I caught the corners of his mouth lift slightly into a grin. It wasn't exactly noticeable, except to me.

"What?" Barry asked Sherlock in confusion as he pulled a face and I sighed audibly. This did however give me a great way to make him mad. Men hated to be corrected, told they were wrong.

"Sorry, it's just, the correct form is wasn't, not weren't," I told Barry and Sherlock nodded at me slightly to tell me I had the right idea. Of course I did, I caught on to everything that he did.

"Oh," Barry said and Sherlock huffed a bit.

"Go on," Sherlock told him and Barry nodded slightly before continuing.

"Well… then I dunno how it happened, but suddenly there's a knife in my hands," Barry said as Sherlock blinked at him and then flicked his gaze over to me, his eyebrow raising a bit. "And, you know, me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle knives," Barry continued as Sherlock and I both lowered our gaze to Barry's hands which were resting on the table. He did in fact know how to handle knives. "He learned us how to cut up a beast."

"Taught," Sherlock interrupted him and I bit my tongue to hold back a giggle.

"What?" Barry asked, starting to get angry. Our plan was working perfectly now. We just needed to see him get angry first before we could confirm the last few deductions we had made.

"He taught you how to cut up a beast not learned," I corrected him again as I sat in my chair calmly even when Barry turned his angry gaze on me for a split second before he continued on with his story.

"Yeah, well, then-then I done it," Barry said before Sherlock cut him off again.

"Did it," Sherlock corrected him and Barry completely lost his temper.

"Did it!" He shouted at us. "Stabbed her...," Barry continued as he repeatedly slammed his hand down on the table. "... over and over and over, and I looked down and she weren't ...," Barry said as Sherlock sighed out a loud breath through his nose and turned his head away from him, looking at me instead.

'Open and shut domestic murder,' I told Sherlock with a slight eye roll.

'Obviously,' Sherlock told me as the corner of his moth lifted into a slight smirk. Barry got control of his temper as we had our silent conversation and immediately corrected himself.

"...wasn't movin' no more," Barry said as Sherlock who had just turned his head back towards Barry, turned his head away again with an annoyed look. I patted his knee beneath the table as Barry corrected himself again. "...anymore," He said as he let out a shaky breath and lowered his head. "You've gotta help me. I dunno how it happened, but it was an accident. I swear," Barry told us softly as Sherlock got to his feet, helping me up before we both started to walk away. "You've gotta help me, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna!" Barry called after us frantically. Sherlock and I stopped to listen to him for a second, at least giving him that long. "Everyone says you're the best. Without you two, I'll get hung for this."

Sherlock shot me a look before we both turned to look over at our shoulders at the man. "No, no, no, Mr. Berwick, not at all," Sherlock told him, looking away thoughtfully for a second and I grinned at him. "Hanged, yes," Sherlock finished, quirking a smile at the man before he took my hand and walked away.

We left the prison and head back to the hotel. Sherlock and I had booked an afternoon flight back to London and we had another few hours before our flight left. We enjoyed lunch in a small café and Sherlock complained about how the criminal classes had been so inexcusably boring of late. We made it back to the hotel and packed up our bags again before taking a cab to the airport. Our three hour flight back to London wasn't terrible. Sherlock was antsy and insisted on having the window seat like he had on the trip over to Belarus. I kept him happy by having him deduce other passengers and kept him chatting about some of the cases he had worked before I had joined him. By the time our flight got in to Heathrow and we got a cab back to the flat, dusk had already fallen over the city. We returned home to an empty flat with no John in sight and I sighed in contentment as we stepped into the living room of the flat. I left Sherlock to his own devices as I brought my suitcase to my room and shrugged out of my coat and jumper. I quickly unpacked my suitcase and threw my dirty clothes in the laundry before slipping into a pair of cotton shorts and a light tank top. I padded my way out into the living room where Sherlock was curled up in the fetal position in his chair, dressed in his bed pants and grey shirt, his blue robed donned.

"Bored," Sherlock whined as I walked over to him and carded my fingers through his curls, smiling down at him fondly. "Lexi," Sherlock complained as he huffed and turned over on his back, sinking lowly down into the chair.

"Tea?" I asked him and he nodded at me. I bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before making my way into the kitchen. Leaving Sherlock when he is bored is never a good idea. I made the tea and headed back into the living room to find Sherlock standing on the back of the couch with a can of yellow spray paint that we had picked up during the case with the Black Lotus. He started spraying a large smiley face onto the wallpaper as I stopped and stared at him. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" I asked the consulting detective as I put his tea cup down on the dining table and my own on the side table beside John's chair.

"I required a target," Sherlock said as he hopped off the couch and put the spray paint on the coffee table before walking over to the dining table and picking up a gun that was lying on it.

"Sherlock!" I scolded him as I walked forward to take it from him but he held it away from me behind my back. "And what are you going to do with that?" I asked Sherlock putting my hands on my hips, though I already had a pretty good idea.

"Relieve boredom, obviously," Sherlock told me as he walked around me and slumped down into his chair, his head resting on the low back of his chair. He pointed the gun at the smiley face before cocking it and firing. I jumped as the bullet sored through the air and buried itself in the wall, right in the middle of the left eye of the smiley face. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose before looking up at Sherlock who was waiting for my reaction. Most likely he was waiting for me to start yelling at him. I simply shrugged before walking over to the bookshelf and pulling out one of my large textbooks, opening it to reveal a secret compartment. I pulled my own gun from inside the book. It wasn't strictly legal for me to own it just like it wasn't legal for John to have his, but what the British Government didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Mycroft had no clue I owned it and it had been given to me by my friend Joanie after my little run in with a serial killer. I put the book back, hiding the gun in front of me before turning around and aiming at the second eye, shooting before Sherlock could say anything. My bullet landed dead centre in the right eye and Sherlock looked at me, his eyes widening in surprise.

"How do you have a gun?" He demanded as I walked around his chair and slumped into John's, taking a casual sip of my tea.

"A friend of mine who trained me well. Joanie wasn't too happy that I almost got killed by a serial killer," I told him simply as I held up my gun which was similar to John's.

"Joanie?" Sherlock asked me his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You've mentioned a Mary before and her once, but you never explained who she was," Sherlock said as he seemed to run through all of our past conversations. He looked a little put out by this fact as well.

"Mary and I went to Uni together during my last few years, but I met Joanie when I was a consultant in Dublin. She's not the sort of person Mycroft would approve of, but we've stayed in touch. I hear from her more than I do Mary. She's in America right now though, New York judging from her last post card," I told Sherlock who snorted in irritation at not having known about Joanie before. He turned his attention back to the wall, eyeing it closely. If you couldn't beat them join them. Shooting the wall was infinitely more interesting than sitting in silence and it seemed to be keeping Sherlock entertained. The consulting detective closed his eyes briefly before he opened them and gazed up towards the ceiling.

Downstairs, the front door opened signalling that either John or Mrs. Hudson was back in. Sherlock turned his head to look towards the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. As the downstairs door closed again Sherlock sighed and turned his head to the front again and then raised his left hand which was holding a pistol. He pointed the pistol towards the smiley face as I raised mine as well, setting down my tea and without even looking in that direction we each fired two shots at it. Sherlock turned his head to look at the face and fired a third shot which he had deliberately aimed to form a 'nose' for the face. I fired for a fourth time and the bullet hit the smiley face higher up as I was distracted as John came running up the stairs with his fingers in his ears. He stopped on the landing and lowered his hands as he started yelling at us.

"What the hell are you two doing?" John thundered as I lowered my arm and took another lazy sip of my tea.

"Bored," Sherlock said sulkily and I looked up at the consulting detective who was frowning and smiled at him fondly.

"Keeping him entertained," I told John only to be ignored as John squinted at Sherlock in disbelief.

"What?" John asked him and I sighed heavily as I drank more tea.

"Bored!" Sherlock said loudly as he sprung up of his chair. John immediately recoiled and covered his ears with his hands.

"No...," John started as Sherlock switched the pistol to his right hand and turned towards the smiley face, firing at it again. He then swung his arm around his back, twisted slightly to his right, and fired at the wall again from behind his back. I lifted my own gun and shot one final shot into the smile to fully outline it.

"Bored! Bored!" Sherlock shouted angrily as he brought his arm back around. John hurried into the room and Sherlock continued to glare at the smiley face. He allowed John to snatch the pistol from his hand and John quickly slid the clip out of the gun as Sherlock walked towards the sofa. John seemed to register that I was also holding a gun and he quickly took it from me. Like Sherlock I made no effort to stop him. I got up from John's chair, taking my tea with me, as he dismantled my gun and I sat down on the edge of the couch.

"Don't know what's got into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them," Sherlock said sulkily as John locked our pistols away in the small safe on the dining table before he straightened up.

"So you take it out on the wall," John said as Sherlock stood up on the back of the couch, viewing our handy work. I had to admit, I sort of liked it. It added something to the flat that was missing.

"Ah, the wall had it coming," Sherlock told the army doctor as he ran his fingers along the painted smile before he turned sideways and dramatically flopped down on the sofa on his back. I was very thankful that I had just finished my tea as he crashed into me as his head landed on my lap. He dug his feet into the arm of the sofa at the end nearest the windows and I sighed as I shook my head at the consulting detective before I leant over the side of the couch and put my mug on the floor.

"It adds character to the room I think," I said, voicing my thoughts aloud and Sherlock smirked up at me from beneath his curls.

"What about that Russian case?" John asked us as he took his coat off. Sherlock pushed with his feet to shove himself further along the sofa and more into my lap, sitting in a more upright position as his upper body laid across me. I carded my fingers through his hair which I knew he was looking for me to do and he started kneading the arm of the sofa with his toes in contentment. I would have sworn he was more of a cat than he was human if I really didn't know him.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth our time," Sherlock told John sadly and I rubbed his arm slightly as he relaxed. His brain was going at a mile a minute still. He just needed to calm down for a bit.

"Ah, shame!" John said sarcastically as he walked into the kitchen. I watched him as he threw his arms up in despair at the mess on the table which greeted him. In my defence, Sherlock and I had only just gotten back in not even an hour before. I hadn't had a chance to tidy up yet from unpacking.

"At least we got a bit of sightseeing in," I remarked with a slight shrug. That had been the nice part of our trip even if a case didn't come out of it. It was a change of scenery for a short while and some time I got to spend with Sherlock. I really couldn't complain all that much.

"Anything in? I'm starving," John called as he headed towards the fridge and I heard the fridge door open before I remembered something important. On our way back to the flat from the airport Sherlock had made the cabbie stop at Bart's so he could pick up something from Molly. That something, being a severed head he wanted to experiment on and I was too tired to tell him no. "Oh, f…," I heard John say before I cut him off.

"Language!" I scolded him as I heard him slam the refrigerator door shut again, unable to believe what he just saw inside. I heard him open the door again after a few minutes and I sighed as I carded my fingers through Sherlock's hair, the consulting detective currently looking quite content with his eyes closed and a slight smile I his face.

"It's a head," John called in shock as he closed the door to the refrigerator once more. "A severed head!" John continued indignantly as Sherlock sighed boredly.

"Just tea for us, thanks," Sherlock told John as the army doctor walked back into the living room. I smirked at his comment. I really could use a bit more tea.

"And Jammie Dodgers," I added to defuse the situation that was slowly escalating.

"No, there's a head in the fridge," John told us and I gasped in feigned shock.

"No," I said sounding scandalized as Sherlock calmly told him "Yes." "Really?" I asked John and like before he just ignored me. Well, wasn't that lovely. What was it ignore Lexi day? Did I just have a face that no one listened too?

"A bloody head!" John continued on and I rolled my eyes. I was sure we had established this fact already. There was a head in the fridge, a severed head at that.

"Well, where else were we supposed to put it?" Sherlock asked John stroppily as he looked round at him. "You don't mind, do you?" Sherlock asked him as John held his hands out despairingly and looked back towards the fridge.

"Sorry, there was no stopping him," I told John as the army doctor threw me a look as if I somehow could control Sherlock. I might be able to get him to listen sometimes but I would never once claim that I could control him.

"We got it from Bart's morgue," Sherlock continued on, not noticing as John buried his head in one hand. "I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death. Lexi is helping me. Her thoughts are truly fascinating," Sherlock remarked as I snorted. I didn't remember agreeing to help him with it, but I would if he wanted me too. Sherlock waved his hand vaguely in the direction of my laptop. While we had been in Belarus I had checked John's blog to find that he had finally posted his next update. I had read his first post where he had written about meeting Sherlock and I, but this one was about our first case. I had shown it to Sherlock and he hadn't been rather impressed by John's write up of our first case together. I thought it was brilliant though. "I see you've written up the taxi driver case," Sherlock said as John threw one last glance at the fridge.

"The killer cabbie," I remarked with a grin as I smiled at all the fond memories about that case. Pissing of Anderson and Donovan, showing up Sherlock in front of Lestrade, surprising both John and Sherlock with the fact I knew Mycroft, and finding out about one man in particular, Moriarty.

"Uh, yes," John said as he walked over to Sherlock's armchair and sat down after throwing me a small smile.

""A Study in Pink." Nice!" Sherlock said and I could detect the note of sarcasm in his voice. I stopped running my fingers through his hair and stared down at him, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Well, you know, pink lady, pink case, pink phone – there was a lot of pink. Did you like it?" John asked as Sherlock picked up a magazine from the coffee table as he was speaking and flipped it open, addressing his answer to the pages.

"Erm, no," Sherlock said and I rolled my eyes as I looked up at John. Of course he hadn't liked it. I had heard quite a bit about his dislike of it. In fact, Sherlock had gone on for over an hour about it and I was almost certain that he intended to write a paper about why he didn't like it.

"I did," I piped up and John grinned at me before looking back at Sherlock in confusion.

"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered," John asked him and I sighed, knowing this wasn't going to end well. Sherlock lowered the magazine and glared at John.

"Flattered?" Sherlock asked him, raising his index finger before he narrated a section of the blog. ""Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things. Whereas Lexi is brilliant on all accounts and has surprised me with her humour, sharp intellect, and witty sarcasm."" There in lay the problem. Sherlock was slightly jealous that John had said more good things about me than him. I beamed at John as Sherlock recited the part about me. I felt very flattered that that was what he thought of me.

"Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a...," John started before Sherlock interrupted him. I groaned and threw my head back into the back of the couch, closing my eyes as I brought my hand that Sherlock didn't currently have crushed under him up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, you meant "spectacularly ignorant" in a nice way! Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister..." Sherlock said as John remarked with a quiet "I know…." "...or who's sleeping with who..." Sherlock continued as I giggled slightly.

"I could tell you who Mycroft is sleeping with," I said suggestively as John shot me a look of mortification before he answered with his own comment.

"Whether the Earth goes round the Sun ...," John said quietly and Sherlock groaned.

"Not that again. It's not important," Sherlock grumbled as I grinned at how childish he was being about all of this.

"Not impor…," John said as he shifted his position in the chair to face Sherlock and me. "It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?" John asked Sherlock and I shook my head fondly at the two men, remembering our first argument about this.

"Well, if I ever did, I've deleted it," Sherlock told him as he pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. I had heard about this before and I envied Sherlock a bit for his ability to just "delete" things. There were some things I would much rather forget.

""Deleted it"?" John asked Sherlock in confusion and I quickly made a slashing gesture across my throat to try and get John to shut up. Sherlock seemed to be in a weird mood since we had returned from Belarus and I did not want to have to deal with a grumpy consulting detective. Things had been going great until we got back and he had been all pouty since then which was why I was humouring him.

Sherlock swung his legs around to the floor and sat up to face John, his curls slightly mussed up because of me. "Listen," Sherlock told John as he pointed to his head with one finger. "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful ... really useful," He said, grimacing before he continued. "Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?" Sherlock asked John before his gaze flicked over to me.

"I am endeavouring to sir," I told Sherlock with a slight smirk. I could completely understand him. Most people could remember countless useless information, but when it came to the stuff that mattered they didn't know it. It was like how you could recite lines from a movie or show or even a book word for word, but you forgot the math formulas before a test. Sherlock deleted what he thought was unimportant. With the way our Mind Palaces were set up it was actually possible. Did I believe that we completely forgot what we deleted, no, but we might not remember it as well as we could have before. It was almost like we threw it to the back of a drawer. Unfortunately for me I couldn't forget anything. It's what made things difficult at times because unlike Sherlock who could delete things that might have happened to him in the past, I couldn't. I sighed heavily as I looked at John who was biting his lip as he watched Sherlock for a long moment before he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"But it's the solar system!" John shouted at him and I groaned as Sherlock briefly buried his head in his hands.

"Oh, hell! What does that matter?!" Sherlock asked John as he looked at the army doctor in frustration. "So we go round the Sun! If we went round the Moon, or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference," Sherlock said as I put a tentative hand on his arm which I was thankful he didn't shake off.

"Lock," I said, trying to calm him down. I knew this was not going to head in a good direction and I had a feeling that something was about to happen given the way Sherlock was acting.

"All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots," Sherlock told John as he ruffled his hair with both hands. I would have thought it was adorable except for the fact that I knew he was about to say something stupid and as soon as he was done musing his hair he glared at John. "Put that in your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world," Sherlock finished, petulantly shoving the magazine across the coffee table before he laid back on the sofa and put his head in my lap again. He turned over and put his back to John, pulling his dressing gown around him while curling up into a ball.

"Sherlock!" I scolded, looking across at John who looked away and pursed his lips. The front door downstairs opened and closed before John stood up and walked towards the living room door.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked John as he turned to look over at John as I sat there staring between the army doctor and the consulting detective.

"Out. I need some air," John said tightly as he put his jacket on.

"John, please," I pleaded with the army doctor as he headed for the stairs which Mrs. Hudson was just walking up.

"'Scuse me, Mrs...," John said as I looked helplessly towards the door and then down at the consulting detective who seemed quite oblivious as to what he had just caused.

"Oh, sorry, love!" Mrs. Hudson said and I heard John apologize to her before I groaned loudly.

"Ugh. The pair of you!" I said in exasperation as Sherlock angrily turned his face away again and pulled himself up so that my leg was under his head, nearer to the back of the sofa, curling up even tighter than before. Mrs. Hudson came to the living room door and knocked and I looked up at her, pulling my gaze off of Sherlock.

"Ooh-ooh!" Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock stretched his legs out straight and turned his head enough to acknowledge her existence before looking away from her again. I wasn't sure how to deal with the childish detective in my lap. I had just about had enough of both John and Sherlock for one evening. I was tired after our flight home and I didn't have to deal with them arguing or ignoring me. Mrs. Hudson carried a couple of shopping bags into the kitchen and I smiled at her. I asked if she could pick up a few things for us because I knew I wouldn't want to go shopping as soon as we got back and I was sure John would forget to go down to Tesco's. "Have you three had a little domestic?" Mrs. Hudson asked us and I shook my head.

"Them actually and I'm staying out of it," I told Mrs. Hudson as Sherlock flailed about to get himself upright before he stood up off the sofa and took the shortest route to his destination which meant walking up and over the coffee table. I sighed and rolled my eyes as I got up and followed him over to the left hand window just as the door downstairs opened and closed.

"Ooh, it's a bit nippy out there. He should have wrapped himself up a bit more," Mrs. Hudson said worriedly as Sherlock and I watched John cross the street before he walked away into the night. I sighed again and shook my head. As much as we got on well enough Sherlock and John still had tiffs. I was not going to get in the middle of it. They had to work out their own issues with each other without me working as moderator. I might not always be around to referee their arguments and they had to learn to get on without me. I wasn't their mother, though I would not be against calling Sherlock's if his behaviour continued. I was sure I could call John's mother too. She liked me well enough.

"Look at that, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said as he scanned the street. "Quiet, calm, peaceful," Sherlock continued as I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. He grimaced and dragged in a long breath. "Isn't it hateful?" Sherlock asked me as Mrs. Hudson unloaded some of the items from her bags and put them away for me before she brandished the receipt at me before putting it down on the kitchen table.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson," I thanked our landlady kindly as she smiled at me and threw me a knowing look as she looked back towards Sherlock who was still looking out at Baker Street.

"Oh, I'm sure something'll turn up, Sherlock. A nice murder – that'll cheer you up," Mrs. Hudson told the consulting detective, chuckling slightly as she carried her bags towards the living room door.

"Can't come too soon," Sherlock told her wistfully as I sighed and put my hands on my hips, looking out at the street too.

"You're telling me," I muttered as Mrs. Hudson suddenly stopped behind us. I looked back over my shoulder and found that she had spotted the damage to the wall.

"Hey. What've you done to my bloody wall?!" Mrs. Hudson demanded, looking towards Sherlock who quirked a smile before he turned around to admire his handiwork. "I'm putting this on your rent, young man!" Mrs. Hudson told him angrily and I bit my lip to keep from laughing over the fact that she assumed it was only him who had done it. She stormed off back down the stairs as Sherlock walked to the middle of the room standing just in front of the dining table. I had relocated and perched on the back of Sherlock's chair, facing the window still. Sherlock looked at the wall and grinned over-dramatically at the bullet-riddled smiley face, then sighed and turned his head to the front just as a massive explosion went off in the street behind us.

I didn't know which way was up or down as the windows exploded in into shards of glass and I found myself thrown backwards off of the back of John's chair with a cry of surprise before I landed in a painful heap, my head smashing into something before I blacked out. I wasn't sure how long I had been out for when I woke up but my head felt like it was exploding and I whimpered, shutting my eyes tightly. I could hear very faint noises coming from somewhere as I breathed in and out and curled into a ball as my body got used to the pain I was now in. The ringing in my ears was loud and annoying and partially the cause of the searing pain in my head. I could feel something warm trickling down my forehead and I whimpered again as the fuzziness that I was hearing cleared a bit so that I could hear whatever or whoever was making the noise. I felt hands on me, pulling me into a half sitting position despite my groans of protest at being moved.

"Lexi, open your eyes! Lexi!" I heard someone calling me as a hand brushed through my hair. I groaned again, as the person called for me frantically again. Slowly my hearing came back and I realized that the person frantically calling my name was Sherlock. My eye lids fluttered open and I winced as the dim light hit my eyes and I found myself staring up into Sherlock's face. His face was contorted in an expression of concern and worry and it looked a little odd coming from him. "Lexi?" Sherlock asked me tentatively as I blinked before he sighed in relief as I pulled myself up slightly.

I noticed that I was being held in Sherlock's arms and I frowned before looking up at Sherlock and giving him a lopsided smile despite my dizziness. "Hello," I said as I blinked and tried to sit up more, but Sherlock pushed me back to a more lying down position.

"I think you hit you head," Sherlock replied with a small chuckle and I frowned at him in confusion before nodding slightly.

"Ten out of ten for observation," I told him hoarsely as Sherlock shifted, sliding an arm under my legs before he supported my back and lifted me up into his arms. "Oi, I can walk," I protested weakly as I pushed back from him slightly, before just giving up and resting my head against his shoulder as the pain in my head was too much to argue with him right now. I blinked, my eyes darting around the flat to find that the windows were blown out and the entire flat was covered in glass and shrapnel. Obviously the blast had thrown us both backwards. I had landed near the coffee table which I assumed was what I had hit my head on. I looked up at Sherlock to find that he looked completely fine.

"You hit your head and have multiple shrapnel injuries. You are not fine and thus I am carrying you," Sherlock said as he walked back through the kitchen. I thought he was going to put me in my room, but he walked straight into his own room and set me down on the unmade bed. He pulled his phone out as I laid there, my body still feeling as if I had gotten run over by a truck, and tried to make a call before angrily throwing his phone down on the bed. "Of course he wouldn't answer his phone," Sherlock muttered in irritation before he reached up and brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear as I frowned at him.

"I'm fine. You don't need to call John," I mumbled as I closed my eyes tiredly.

"No sleeping," Sherlock suddenly said worriedly and I opened my eyes slowly seeing his concerned face only a few feet from my own. I reached my hand up slowly, wincing at the pain of the movement and brushed some of his curls out of his face before smiling.

"Have I ever told you how adorable you look with your hair all mussed up?" I asked Sherlock and he blinked at me, his face going blank as I ran my fingers through the top of his hair. "It's nice too. That's why I like to run my fingers through it. Your hair is so soft," I told him as I mussed with his hair a bit more before he reached up and took my hand in his, lowering it back to the bed.

"I see your intelligence has also been injured," Sherlock remarked drily and I giggled at him before he sighed and reached for his phone. He tried calling someone again before he growled in frustration.

"Johnny is mad at you. He's not going to answer," I told Sherlock, pointing at him accusingly. "You have to be nicer Sherly. What would Mummy say?" I scolded Sherlock as I frowned, trying to think straight, but failing terribly. My brain felt like jelly and I was having troubles focusing on Sherlock's face. He groaned at me and buried his face in one hand.

"What is it with you giving me nicknames? It appears that a blow to the head is all that is needed for you to join Anderson in his group of the cerebrally challenged," Sherlock said before he cried out in pain and started rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for?" Sherlock demanded angrily as I glared at him, pouting slightly.

"You compared me to Anderson," I told Sherlock indignantly as I felt my brain buzzing. My head still really hurt, but the fog that had been in my head was starting to clear.

"You were acting like him!" Sherlock said before crying out in pain again as I smacked him in the head again. "Woman will you stop it!" Sherlock shouted at me as he grabbed my hands before I could smack him again.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" I heard Mrs. Hudson call worriedly from the direction of the living room and I glared at Sherlock once more before looking towards the door.

"Back here Mrs. Hudson," I called as I sat up slightly on Sherlock's pillows as we heard the anxious footsteps of Mrs. Hudson as she made her way carefully back towards Sherlock's room. I looked up at her as she walked in even though Sherlock was still glaring down at me.

"Are you two alright?" Mrs. Hudson asked before she really looked at me. "Oh, dear, you look a little worse for wear," Mrs. Hudson remarked as she walked over to the bed and started looking me over. I waved her off, noticing the scratches all up my arms now. Some of them were bleeding slightly but they didn't look too bad.

"I'm fine. Honestly," I assured Mrs. Hudson. "Are you alright?" I asked our landlady, ignoring Sherlock who sat rigidly at the end of the bed staring at me, his hands still holding mine in a vice like grip so I couldn't smack him anymore.

"Oh, I'm alright dear. Just a bit of a shock is all. Looks like a bit of a mess out there," Mrs. Hudson said as she looked down at me. "I'll go make you some tea dear. Just this once though. I'm not your housekeeper," Mrs. Hudson told us, patting my arm before she went out into the kitchen.

"My med bag is in my room," I told Sherlock once Mrs. Hudson had left and he looked at me, nodding tightly before he got up and left the room. He came back a minute later with a wet flannel and my med bag. He set the bag down on the bed before helping me sit up right. His irritated expression softened as he sat beside me on the bed and started dabbing away at my forehead, washing away something that felt sticky. I winced slightly and Sherlock frowned as Mrs. Hudson came in and brought us our tea. She smiled at me knowingly and left our cups on Sherlock's nightstand before she backed out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.

Sherlock moved on to cleaning up the cuts all down my arms and the few I had gotten on my legs. He used tweezers to get the small pieces of glass or other debris out of a few of my cuts which were nastier than the others. He then dug through my medical bag and found some disinfectant and proceeded to clean my cuts with it. I winced in pain again as it stung and I looked up at Sherlock as he dabbed at the cut on my forehead, our eyes meeting. The spell was broken as we heard someone pounding on the door downstairs and I jumped looking to the door before turning back to Sherlock as we heard Mrs. Hudson answering it. Sherlock turned back to the bag and pulled out a pen light and a few butterfly sutures. He applied a few of the sutures to my forehead, presumably to the cut I could feel bleeding before he turned on the pen light. I winced and closed my eyes from the harshness of the light, but Sherlock brought his hand up to my chin and moved my head to face him again.

"I have to check for a concussion," Sherlock told me quietly and I sighed before opening my eyes slowly and staring straight ahead, letting Sherlock check my eyes. He sighed and lowed the pen light, putting it back into my bag. "Mild concussion probably. Nothing that you won't be able to recover from," Sherlock told me as he got up and packed away my bag. "I suggest you sleep in here tonight," Sherlock told me and I frowned up at him in confusion.

"I can sleep in my own room," I told Sherlock as I attempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed. Sherlock's hand was suddenly on my shoulder, pushing me back down on his pillows.

"You've experienced a blow to the head. Your balance and cognitive abilities are severely lowered. You will stay here," Sherlock said with a note of authority in his voice. I pouted slightly, but realized through the fog in my brain that Sherlock was taking care of me.

"Can I at least change clothes?" I asked Sherlock, gesturing to my night shirt which had a bit of blood on it and was ripped in a few places. Sherlock nodded and crossed over to his wardrobe. He pulled something out of it and threw it to me and it landed in my lap. I picked up the white button down shirt and grinned at Sherlock. "Thank you," I told him and he nodded slightly.

"I'll be back shortly," Sherlock told me before he left the room. I shrugged out of my tank top and my cotton pants, replacing them with Sherlock's button up shirt. I threw my clothes down on the floor and sat back a bit as I waited for Sherlock to come back. He returned looking slightly disgruntled, but his face softened as he saw me. He helped me lay back on the pillows and I snuggled up into his blanket as I pulled it over my bare legs. Sherlock's shirt went down to my knees thankfully. I was a bit beyond caring at this point though that I was only wearing one of his shirts. I closed my eyes and smiled sleepily. I felt the bed dip behind me and I opened my eyes tiredly and looked over my shoulder a bit, despite the pain in my head from the movement. "Relax," Sherlock told me as he pulled me into his chest and wrapped one of his arms around my waist and the other went under my neck to cradle my head.

"What are you doing?" I asked Sherlock in confusion, not at all concerned by our close contact, but curious as to what he was thinking. I looked back at him, his eyes looking into mine as I blinked tiredly. Some [art of me realized how calming and comforting it was to be nestled up against his chest with his arm over me. He radiated heat which felt nice as I was slightly chilly.

"It is proven that those suffering a concussion are more emotional and also need to be watched closely for any life threatening symptoms. Therefore, you are going to sleep and I am going to watch you," Sherlock told me, sighing and I giggled as I snuggled up to him. I ignored when I felt him stiffen and then relax as I turned in his arms and pressed my face into the soft cotton of his shirt, my nose pressing into the exposed skin of his collarbone.

"Night Lock," I told Sherlock sleepily as I breathed in his sent, calmly breathing as Sherlock awkwardly readjusted his hand around my waist. I fell asleep, snuggled up into Sherlock feeling very safe despite the situation. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was Sherlock humming a lullaby right by my ear.

John's POV

John woke up with a groan, disoriented for a moment before he remembered that he had spent the night at Sarah's flat. After his argument with Sherlock he had left despite Lexi calling after him and had went straight over to Sarah's after stopping by a pub for a quick pint. He felt bad about leaving Lexi with Sherlock alone, but John had finally had it with Sherlock's attitude. John sat up on the sofa, his button up shirt unbuttoned, grimacing as he tried to un-crick his neck.

"Morning!" Sarah said as she walked into the living room wearing a dressing gown behind him.

"Oh, mor…," John said as he turned to look at her, grimacing again and grabbing his neck in pain. "Morning."

"See? Told you you should've gone with the lilo," Sarah told him with a laugh. She had let him stay over as soon as he told her he had a bit of a fight with Sherlock and needed someplace to stay.

"No, no, no, it's fine. I-I slept fine. It's very kind of you," John told her as he rubbed his neck. Sarah scanned the sofa as he spoke before she reached behind John's back to pick up the remote control for the TV. Ah, that was why he had a crick in his back. She sat down on the arm of the sofa and turned the telly on.

"Well, maybe next time I'll let you kip at the end of my bed, you know," Sarah said, looking at him suggestively before she turned her head towards the TV screen.

"What about the time after that?" John asked her equally suggestive as he also looked at the screen. Sarah looked at him and grinned briefly and John turned his head towards her but didn't meet her eyes.

Things had been a bit strained with him and Sarah. Despite what happened during the case with the Black Lotus she had still been going out with him. Those dates had gone much better save for his second date with her which Sherlock and Lexi also managed to ruin, but now it was slightly awkward because she had laid him off of work. John knew that despite Lexi not saying anything, she didn't exactly like Sarah. Not that John really cared if Lexi or Sherlock liked his girlfriend, but it was slightly awkward when Sarah came to meet him at the flat and Sherlock and Lexi would have a silent eye conversation. He knew that they were silently judging her or saying something about her by the way they smirked at each other. It pissed John off slightly as it felt like that by them judging who he was dating they were judging him as well. Things had been odd in the flat lately. Since Sherlock had gotten sick something had changed between the two detectives. Suddenly Sherlock and Lexi were sitting together and Sherlock was allowing the Irish girl to run her fingers through his hair. Towards John he had been the same, but something had changed between the pair of them. John really wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was going on.

"Experts are hailing it as the artistic find of the century," A news reporter said on the telly, drawing John away from his thoughts. They were showing a photo of the Hickman Art Gallery, with a headline at the bottom of the screen saying "The Lost Vermeer". "The last time ...," The reporter continued as Sarah put the remote down.

"So, d'you want some breakfast?" Sarah asked John as he tuned out the telly.

"Love some," John told her feeling very happy with how things were going between the two of them.

"Yeah, well you'd better make it yourself, 'cause I'm gonna have a shower!" Sarah and John watched as she smiled at him sassily before leaving the room. He chuckled silently and started doing up the buttons on his shirt as he focused back on listening to the telly.

"...it fetched over twenty million pounds. This one is anticipated to do even better. Back now to our main story. There's been a massive explosion in central London," The news reporter said and John looked at the TV screen quickly. His face filled with shock as the picture changed on the screen to show live footage of a road where brickwork was scattered all over the pavement and police cordons had been set up to keep people out. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, "House destroyed on Baker St" and John felt his heart stop as he realized that the part of the street that was being shown was right in front of their flat. "As yet, there are no reports of any casualties though we do have a report that one woman has suffered some injuries in the subsequent blast. The police are unable to say if there is any suspicion of terrorist involvement," The reporter finished as John jumped to his feet and hurried around the sofa to grab his jacket before he turned towards the door and called out.

"Sarah!" John called as he stopped and looked at the TV screen briefly.

"Police have issued an emergency number for friends and relatives ...," The reporter continued as John felt his blood go cold.

"Sarah!" John called again as he headed towards the front door, not even waiting for Sarah to reply to him. "Sorry – I've got to run," John called as he ran out of her flat, the words replaying in his mind. One woman had suffered from injuries in the blast. John knew. He just knew. Out of everyone that could get hurt it would be her. John quickly hurried outside and hailed a cab to Baker Street, fear running through his heart.

Lexi's POV

I woke up alone, my face buried inside of a pillow that had a distinctly masculine smell. I lifted my head and blinked my eyes open, taking in my surroundings. I saw the periodic chart on the wall and the science equipment on the dresser and I realized I was in Sherlock's room. Slowly the events of the night before trickled back to me, the explosion in the flat and Sherlock taking care of me before he let me sleep against him. I lifted myself up to a sitting position, wincing slightly at the pain. My whole body felt bruised and my head was pounding slightly. I looked across to the clock for the time and found a bottle of paracetamol next to a glass of water. I smiled before reaching across and opening the bottle, shaking out four pills before I swallowed them down. I stretched before swinging my legs off the side of the bed and standing up, stumbling slightly before I steadied myself. Ugh, I felt terrible. I shuffled to the door of Sherlock's room which was closed even if it was open the night before and I stepped out into the hall.

I heard voices inside the living room and I blinked before slipping into my room. As much as Sherlock's shirt covered me, I could really use some pants. I found a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on before standing and letting out a deep breath. Ha, pants on. I felt slightly more accomplished now. I probably should have been embarrassed about sleeping in Sherlock's arms in just his shirt, but oddly I wasn't. It felt sort of…right when I snuggled into Sherlock's chest. I had felt safe and I was able to just fall asleep for once. I hadn't even had one nightmare. I found a hair elastic and piled my hair up quickly into a very messy bun before I left my room and shuffled through the kitchen. I realized that one of the voices was Sherlock and the other was Mycroft. I winced slightly at the bright light in the living room as I stood in the doorway that led into the living room. The room had been cleaned up slightly and the windows were boarded up which made a bit of difference. Mycroft turned around in John's chair to look at me just as Sherlock flicked his gaze up to me.

"Ah, Alexandria. Good morning. How are we feeling?" Mycroft asked me as I padded into the living room, ignoring the look he was giving me as he saw what I was wearing. I grunted and waved my hand in his direction as I perched myself on the arm of Sherlock's chair. Sherlock looked up at me and I blinked down at him, noticing he had his violin in his lap. Ah, Mycroft was pissing him off with something. We all heard the door open and close down stairs before there were pounding footsteps on the stairs.

"Sherlock. Lexi. Sherlock! Lexi!" John called before he hurried into the living room. He looked towards the boarded-up windows first, then to his chair where Mycroft was sitting, and then to Sherlock's chair where the consulting detective was dressed in his purple shirt and suit and I was perched on the arm of the chair wearing one of his white button down shirts and baggy, grey sweatpants. Sherlock intermittently plucked the strings of his violin, holding it on his chest while he glared petulantly at Mycroft.

"John," Sherlock and I said in unison as we looked up at our flat mate. I smiled at the army doctor and waved at him as Mycroft glanced round at John. At least he acknowledged his presence.

"I saw it on the telly. Are you two okay?" John asked us as he looked us over. I noticed his eyes lingering on my forehead which was the extent of my injuries that John could see as my arms and legs were covered.

"Hmm? What?" Sherlock asked John as he looked around at the mess of broken glass and scattered paperwork as if he had forgotten about it, which he probably had knowing him. "Oh, yeah. Fine. Gas leak, apparently," Sherlock said and I raised my eyebrow at that. Apparently he had gone out to figure out what had happened while I was sleeping. I was surprised he hadn't left me the night before.

"We're fine, John, honestly," I added when I noticed that John was looking at Sherlock sceptically. I really was okay but both boys never listened to me when I told them I was fine. Besides for a slight headache and a few aches and pains I was honestly feeling okay. Sherlock turned his attention back to his brother, who stared at him pointedly as Sherlock plucked his violin strings again. I eyed Mycroft wearily, wondering why he was here. Yes, he was worried about us, but he could have had one of the people keeping an eye on us let him know we were alright. No, he was here because he had an ulterior motive.

"We can't," Sherlock told Mycroft and I raised one eyebrow. Ah, that was why he was here. He wanted us to work a case for him.

""Can't"?" Mycroft asked Sherlock, raising his own eyebrow slightly.

"The stuff we've got on is just too big. We can't spare the time," Sherlock told Mycroft simply as John looked across to him in disbelief. I sighed and rubbed the side of my head slightly, all three men looking at me before Mycroft dropped his gaze back to Sherlock.

"Never mind your usual trivia. This is of national importance," Mycroft told Sherlock and I snorted and rolled my eyes. It was always a matter of national importance. If it was so important he should have his own team taking care of it. Then again, he knew my methods.

"How's the diet?" Sherlock asked Mycroft sulkily, flicking his fingers across the strings and producing a note.

"Fine. Perhaps you can get through to them John," Mycroft said and I held up my hands and threw a look at Mycroft. I hadn't even said yes or no. Bloody hell, I hadn't even heard what he wanted. Not like I really wanted to work one of his cases. They were usually tedious and boring and something he could have solved easily.

"What?" John asked from his spot nearer to the windows as he investigated the damage.

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent and Lexi impossible," Mycroft drawled and I rolled my eyes at him.

"I prefer improbable," I told Mycroft and he fixed me with a glare. I stared right back at him passively, my hands in my lap.

"If you're so keen, why don't you investigate it?" Sherlock asked Mycroft with a slight smirk on his face as he flicked his gaze up at me and then back at his brother.

"No-no-no-no-no. I can't possibly be away from the office for any length of time – not with the Korean elections so...," Mycroft said, trailing off as John turned towards him in surprise and Sherlock raised his head from looking at his violin. "Well, you don't need to know about that, do you?" Mycroft asked us smiling humourlessly in a clear message to forget what he just said.

"I already did," I told Mycroft with a smirk and he glared at me his eyes widening slightly in surprise. What could I say? When I was bored I often did things I shouldn't. "Sorry, couldn't help myself," I told Mycroft with a grin and he huffed out irritably before he continued.

"Besides, a case like this – it requires ...," Mycroft said as he grimaced in distaste. "... legwork," He finished as Sherlock mis-plucked one of his strings, an irritated look on his face. He turned to John, who was absently rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"How's Sarah, John? How was the lilo?" Sherlock asked John, changing the subject.

"Sofa, Sherlock. It was the sofa," Mycroft remarked as he consulted his pocket watch and didn't even look at John

Sherlock briefly looked John up and down before speaking. "Oh yes, of course."

"Slept on the remote didn't you?" I asked John with a laugh and he looked at the three of us incredulously.

"How ...? Oh, never mind," John said as he sat down on the coffee table and Mycroft smiled across at him.

"Don't ask," I told John and he nodded at me.

"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you three became ... pals," Mycroft remarked and Sherlock threw him a dark look as I looked at him sidelong. I gave him a warning look which I knew he saw but was choosing to act like he hadn't seen. I did not want him starting anything this morning. "What are they like to live with? Hellish, I imagine," Mycroft asked John as he absentmindedly played with the handle of his umbrella.

"I'm never bored," John remarked, his hands folded in his lap. I smiled at him slightly, seeing that he was a little on edge from having come back to the flat to find in in shambles and Mycroft there.

"Good! That's good, isn't it?" Mycroft said smiling condescendingly at John. Sherlock glared at him again as I shot him another warning look. Mycroft stood up as Sherlock picked up his bow and whipped one end through the air in front of him. Picking up the folder which he had put on the table beside him, Mycroft stepped forward and offered the folder to Sherlock but Sherlock just looked back at him stubbornly as he pointed his bow at him. He turned to me next and I crossed my arms and raised one eyebrow at him. Mycroft grimaced and poked his tongue into the corner of his mouth, obviously annoyed before he turned and offered the folder to John instead as Sherlock started rubbing his bow strings down with rosin. I wasn't accepting it on principle. He didn't come into my flat and try and start something with his brother or with John, not with me here. "Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends," Mycroft said as John took the folder, looking startled. "A civil servant, found dead on the tracks at Battersea Station this morning with his head smashed in," Mycroft told him as I titled my head to the side and watched the both of them.

"Jumped in front of a train?" John asked Mycroft as he looked up at him.

"Seems the logical assumption," Mycroft told him and I snorted.

"But ...?" John asked him quirking a brief smile.

""But"?" Mycroft repeated in confusion.

"Well, you wouldn't be here if it was just an accident," John said and Sherlock looked up from his work applying the rosin to the bow with a small cloth and smirked noisily as I chuckled and shot a proud look John's way which he did notice.

"The M.O.D. is working on a new missile defence system – the Bruce-Partington Programme, it's called," Mycroft said as he looked at Sherlock, John starting to flick through the folder. "The plans for it were on a memory stick," Mycroft told John who sniggered quietly.

"That wasn't very clever," John said as Sherlock and I both smiled in agreement. No, it wasn't. Computer files were easy to hack and easy to steal. Paper files were a lot easier to keep secret.

"It's not the only copy," Mycroft told John despairingly. "Oh," John remarked before Mycroft continued. "But it is secret. And missing."

"Top secret?" John asked Mycroft and I smirked slightly. Nothing was ever top secret these days. Not if you knew how to find what you were looking for.

"Very," Mycroft told John and I laughed slightly causing Mycroft to look round at me.

"Surprisingly not so much," I told Mycroft and he glared at me angrily. "What can I say? You need to hire better people if I can get past all your security. Thank of it as me doing you a favour," I told Mycroft who continued to glare at me.

"I see more people will have to be fired," Mycroft remarked drily and I shrugged as Mycroft turned back to John. "We think West must have taken the memory stick. We can't possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands," Mycroft said before he turned back to Sherlock and me. "You've got to find those plans, Sherlock. Don't make me order you or you Alexandria," Mycroft said, giving me a scolding look.

Sherlock breathed in sharply through his nose as he raised his violin to his shoulder, ready to play. He looked calmly at his Mycroft before answering him. "I'd like to see you try."

"The last person that tried to order me around soon realized their mistake Croft. Don't even try it," I told Mycroft calmly but the warning was clear and Mycroft stared at me for a long moment before nodding slightly to show he had received and understood the warning. As much as I was being calm about this he knew who the last person who tried to order me around was and he knew how badly that had ended.

"Think it over," Mycroft told us leaning down towards Sherlock a little in an attempt to look more threatening. Sherlock stared back at him, unimpressed and Mycroft turned and walked over to John, offering him his hand to shake. "Goodbye, John," Mycroft said as John stood and politely shook his hand. "See you very soon," Mycroft said as he smiled creepily at John before looking back at me. "Alexandria," He said, tipping his head in my direction as John tried to not look nervous. As Mycroft headed back towards the chair to pick up his coat, Sherlock began to repeatedly play a short irritating sequence of notes. John frowned across to him but Sherlock continued to play until Mycroft had left the room and was on the stairs. I winced slightly at the noise but made no move to stop him. Sherlock grimaced in the direction of his brother's back, finishing his playing before he lowered his violin, still looking annoyed. John sat back down on the coffee table and waited until Mycroft has reached the ground floor and was out of earshot before he spoke.

"Why'd you lie?' John asked Sherlock who looked across to him as the front door banged shut. "You've got nothing on – not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Sherlock asked him with a shrug and I shook my head fondly at the consulting detective.

"Oh!" John said with a nod as he looked across to me. "Oh, I see," John continued as Sherlock's eyes drifted in his direction for a brief moment before he looked up at me and quirked one eyebrow, a silent question if I was alright. I smiled at him and nodded slightly in assurance. "Sibling rivalry. Now we're getting somewhere," John finished and Sherlock looked away from me to turn and open his mouth but before he could deny everything his phone started to ring. He irritably whipped his bow down again and put it on the seat beside him before he fished his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock answered, listening for a moment before his expression intensified. I raised an eyebrow at him questioningly as I watched him. "Of course. How could we refuse?" Sherlock asked him as he stood up and switched off his phone as he put his violin onto the seat and headed for the door.

"Lestrade. We've been summoned. Coming?" Sherlock asked John though his gaze flicked over to me as if asking if I wanted to come to.

"If you want me to," John said as I got up and walked over to Sherlock, pulling my scarf off the peg and wrapping it around my neck, not even bothering to change. I bent down and retrieved my boots, slipping on the socks I had left inside them. Sweatpants were good enough for solving cases any day and I already had a bra on. This was as good as it was going to get.

"Of course," Sherlock said as he helped me into my coat before picking up his own and turning back to John. "We'd be lost without our blogger," Sherlock told the army doctor before he slid his hand into mine, our fingers tangling together before we headed off down the stairs. As we walked out onto Baker Street and down the road, past the wreckage to hail a cab, an uneasy feeling washed over me. I had never once felt worried when heading off to a case, but suddenly I had this gut feeling that something would be different on this case. I shook my head, clearing my mind of those thoughts. Nothing would go wrong as long as I had Sherlock by my side.


	47. And So It Begins

**A/N**

**Hello my sweeties and welcome to the second chapter of The Great Game. No I didn't forget to post, I'm just posting a bit late because I had to study for my first test. I love this chapter, personally it is one of my favourites. In fact, I got to reading this and spent two days reading over all the stuff I've already written. I do actually read my own story because I write things I end up forgetting about which are rather good and funny for me.**

**So, still waiting to have my MRI or RMI scheduled, since I'm used to that way round. Waiting to see if I need to do it with the contrast dye or not. Not to alarm any off you but we're checking to see if it is possible I have some brain tumor or legion causing my vision loss. I still know nothing at this point, but I'm pressing on. I've been slightly lazy, I'm almost done with The Sign of Three now that I know what direction I want it to take. If you loved the stag night scene, I added a lot to it.**

**A quick response to some guest reviews before we get onto the chapter and may I just say thank you to all the new followers and favouriters.**

**Fireball221B- First off, love the name. No, thank you for reading. Sorry to hear that you've had such a hard time with your knee and your heart condition. I get the depression and anxiety, it's why I began writing this story in the first place. I kind of wanted Lexi to be a kick arse character that people could almost relate to in various ways and she's sort of my own alter ego. I'm so glad I was able to make you feel even a bit better with my story. Aww, you make me feel so special. I'm still chugging alone, still writing. Hopefully I can get scheduled for my MRI this week. Aww. Serious you make me blush. I just did this to work through my own messed up feelings, never expected all of this.**

**AFrenchieOne- Oh how can I describe how amazing it is to have a reader from France. My family is from there actually on both sides among other nationalities. If it seems google translate it is because it is. Sadly I don't know much French but I want to learn. Okay to answer this: In chapter 39, and I went back and checked to make sure I didn't horribly type something due to tiredness, she actually says her second first name is Amelia. See, Sherlock has the two first names, William and Sherlock but he goes by his second. Benedict Cumberbatch also had two first names and it is an Old English thing. Sherlock's middle name is then Scott. Lexi's full name is therefore Alexandria Amelia Elspeth MacKenna, Alexandria and Amelia being her two first names and Elspeth being her middle name. Mycroft mostly only calls her Alexandria Elspeth and cuts out Amelia because she hardly uses it. Not a bitch at all, just slightly confused and I don't mind if you point stuff out to me. I'm happy to explain and happy to check if I made a mistake. I'm glad you like the story. Yes, I kind of tried to make them more human and I developed Sherlock's character more and even John's by explaining the sort of home and family he came from. No, Lexi is not indestructible and that is because I'm not. She has all my flaws. I realized when I finished A Study in Pink that I made her exactly me, of course she's probably a bit smarter and a lot more confident. No actually, I've never even heard of that. I actually got the name form one of my favourite singers. Originally Lexi was going to be Scottish but I changed her last name to an Irish one similar to her original and made her Irish because I considered her having that connection with Moriarty. Thank you sweetie, see I can read French, just not speak it or translate it from English myself. Don't miss the Tuesday updates too sweetie.**

**Alright, taken care of. So, onto the chapter in which we first meet Moriarty. What will Lexi think of Jim from IT and will she even notice anything about him? Probably, this is Lexi we're talking about. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty Five- And So It Begins<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

After a taxi ride during which I was squished up against Sherlock as he insisted that he sit in the middle, we arrived at New Scotland Yard. I paid the cabbie and sighed heavily as Sherlock practically ran inside the building, John running after him, both men practically forgetting about me. I groaned before rushing after them. I finally caught up with them up at Lestrade's division and I walked beside Sherlock, following Detective Inspector Lestrade across the general office as he led us back to his personal office. I was not angry with them leaving me behind, slightly miffed yes, but not angry. I was not going to get in the middle of whatever…thing was going on between John and Sherlock. I knew it was only a matter of time before they clashed heads. Sherlock was stubborn and John was the same. They fought like brothers, never agreeing on anything or admitting they were being stupid. Neither of them was completely right, but that was for them to figure out. I wasn't going to choose sides or join in their argument. They needed to work out their own problems by themselves. Besides, my head hurt, I was covered in bruises and cuts, and I was not in the mood to play mother to the both of them.

"You like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones," Lestrade asked us as we walked, drawing my attention back to the matter at hand. I felt a growing sense of unease since the night before. There was this feeling in the back of my mind as if this was somehow familiar.

"Obviously," Sherlock told Lestrade as I shrugged my shoulders.

"Of course," I told Lestrade as he finally looked me over and noticed the cuts on my face and what I was wearing. He shook his head at me and I grinned sheepishly back at him. It was just one of those days.

"You've love this. That explosion...," Lestrade said as Sherlock briefly exchanged glares with Detective Sergeant Donovan as we walked past her desk. She snorted when she saw me and I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Gas leak, yes?" Sherlock asked Lestrade, cutting him off from finishing his sentence.

"No," Lestrade told us and I stopped in my tracks and looked at him raising an eyebrow before I started following them again.

"No?" Sherlock asked Lestrade in confusion as I looked around to see if anyone else was hearing this. It wasn't a gas leak? That meant someone had purposely blown up the building across the street which resulted in me getting injured again. Oh well, they weren't going to like it when I found them. I had noticed I was getting injured a lot of late. I really did have a sense of self-preservation but it seemed like Sherlock didn't. The more case we worked together, the more times he was an idiot and got himself into dangerous situations and left me to clean up his mess. Granted I had gotten into a few situations myself, but mostly I got hurt while protecting Sherlock. That wouldn't stop me from protecting him when he was being an idiot, but I wanted it noted for the record that I wasn't purposely getting myself hurt. **(A/N Yeah, I know Lexi, this author is kind of being harsh on you. Sorry for battering you around. Expect more during this case.*winces* Sorry sweetie.)**

"No. Made to look like one," Lestrade told us and I clicked my tongue quickly as my eyebrow raised ever higher into my hair line.

"Detective Inspector say what?" I asked Lestrade, not sure if I had heard him correctly. Upon further analysis, I had.

"What?" John asked Lestrade as we stepped into his office. I frowned at John slightly, but didn't comment on how he had ruined my joke. Sherlock and I stopped and stared down at a white envelope lying on Lestrade's desk. It was addressed to Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna in elegant handwriting. Not Alexandria, Lexi. I shivered slightly, feeling uncomfortable.

"Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box – a very strong box and inside it was this," Lestrade told us as he pointed to what he and I were both looking at. I knew that it was stupid to be afraid of an envelope, but I had a weird sense of Déjà vu.

"You haven't opened it?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as I bit my lip nervously. This was familiar. Why was this familiar?

"It's addressed to you two, isn't it?" Lestrade asked us as Sherlock reached towards the envelope. "We've X-rayed it. It's not booby-trapped," Lestrade told us and I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

"How reassuring," Sherlock said hesitating slightly.

"Could be worse. Anderson could have been the one to check it," I said before looking back at Lestrade. "He wasn't was he?" I asked Lestrade and he shook his head at me and I nodded as Sherlock picked up the envelope and took it across the room to another table which had an angle poise lamp on it. I followed him over to the table watching as Sherlock held the envelope up close to the bulb and examined both sides carefully.

"Nice stationery. Bohemian," Sherlock said and I nodded in agreement with his assessment.

"What?" Lestrade asked the both of us as I took my glasses out of my coat pocket and slipped them on over the bridge of my nose and leaned in to inspect the envelope closer.

"I would say that it's from the Czech Republic by the look of it," I said as I sniffed at the paper slightly. I looked up at Sherlock and he nodded at me slightly in agreement as I straightened and looked back at Lestrade. "No fingerprints?" I asked him, already knowing the answer, but hoping I was wrong.

"No," Lestrade told me and I sighed heavily, shaking my head ruefully.

"Course not. Criminals are never considerate," I grumbled and all three men looked at me for a long moment before Sherlock turned back to the envelope, looking closely at the writing.

"She used a fountain pen. A Parker Duofold – iridium nib," Sherlock told us and I nodded at him, noting that she had pushed the pen a bit more into the paper in a few places.

""She"?" John asked Sherlock in confusion and Sherlock, being Sherlock answered him with his customary line.

"Obviously," Sherlock said and John looked at him in exasperation.

"Obviously!" John said as I watched him struggling not to sigh. I rolled my eyes. Neither of them were acting their age. They were acting like children.

"The lettering curls in a more feminine manner. Men don't tend to write in such a flowing manner. Your hand writing as well as Sherlock's comes out spikier, not so connected as mine is. Her r's and s's give it away a bit, the little swirl to the letters. That and the envelope smells faintly of a perfume containing vanilla. She's right handed given the way she formed her letters. Most likely her hand dragged across the paper depositing the scent onto the paper," I explained and Lestrade and John both looked at me raising an eyebrow at my explanation as Sherlock ignored me and picked up a letter opener from the desk and carefully sliced the envelope open. He looked inside and I saw his mouth open a little in surprise causing me to frown before he pulled out a pink iPhone.

"But that's – that's the phone, the pink phone," John said in shock as I raised my eyebrow to my hairline and stared at the offending object. This was starting to remind me too much of that one case….

"What, from the Study in Pink?" Lestrade asked us and I looked at him and snorted slightly. It would appear that the blog John thought no one would read did actually have readers.

"Well, obviously it's not the same phone but it's supposed to look like ...," Sherlock said before he stopped as he seemingly realized what Lestrade had said and turned to face him. Sally walked into the room and put some files down on a desk near the door. I looked up at her and we both glared at each other. "The Study in Pink? You read his blog?" Sherlock demanded sounding slightly shocked.

"Course I read his blog! We all do. D'you really not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?" Lestrade asked Sherlock and Sally sniggered loudly. Sherlock, who was taking off his gloves, glared at her as John pursed his lips in embarrassment.

"Leave off him," I warned Lestrade calmly and he, Sally, and John looked at me closely and saw that I was not kidding. Sherlock and I looked at each other for a brief moment before looking away. Sally shot me one last look before she left the room and Sherlock turned his concentration back to the phone as did I.

"It isn't the same phone. This one's brand new," Sherlock remarked as he looked at the connection sockets, none of which seemed to have scratches around them. I held my hand out for the phone and he gave it to me so I could study it closely.

"It looks like someone has a lot of time on their hands. They've gone to a lot of trouble just to make it look like the same phone John mentioned in the case," I said as I handed the phone back to Sherlock. I didn't like this, in fact I really didn't like this.

"Which means your blog has a far wider readership," Sherlock said as he threw an accusatory look at John, who did his best to ignore it.

"Tis not his fault. Your website has a wide readership too and I've already seen the messages from your anonymous stalker. Really the messages are so original," I said with a snort and Sherlock threw me a look as did John and Lestrade before Sherlock switched the phone on and immediately got a voice alert.

"You have one new message," The alert said before the message started playing, only it wasn't someone speaking, it was just the unmistakable sound of the Greenwich Time Signal. However, while the "Greenwich pips" as they were more generally called consisted of five short pips and one longer tone, this recording only had four short pips and the longer one which was odd. It was almost as if someone was trying to be original or the four pips stood for something.

"Is that it?" John asked us and I shook my head at him. That was most certainly not all there was to this.

"No. That's not it," Sherlock told him, opening a picture which had been uploaded to the phone. Lestrade came to look across his shoulder behind me and I was suddenly aware of how much shorter I was than him and Sherlock. The picture was of an unfurnished room with a fireplace on one wall. The wallpaper was peeling and there was a tall mirror propped up in one corner. A smaller mirror, the type which was usually hung up above a fireplace, was standing on the mantelpiece. It didn't look like someplace I would want to live, but it did look oddly familiar.

"What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!" Lestrade asked us in exasperation and Sherlock looked to me, gazing thoughtfully at me. I nodded at him slightly letting him know that I was thinking the exact same thing he was.

"It's a warning," Sherlock said, voicing our thoughts aloud.

"A warning?" John asked us in confusion and I nodded at the army doctor.

"Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that as a warning. Generally five pips, but this is only four. Not sure how that relates to this yet, ask me later though," I said, adding the last part for Sherlock as I rubbed my forehead slightly as my head throbbed. I needed tea, the strong stuff, the bag left in. That and some more painkillers.

"They're warning us it's gonna happen again," Sherlock said as he briefly looked down at the photo again, the brandished the phone at the others before he started to leave the office. He grabbed my hand in his and pulled me along with him and I was all too willing to be led as it meant I didn't have to concentrate on where I was going. My head hurt too much to think and I had a growing lump forming on the back of my head. "And I've seen this place before," Sherlock called over his shoulder and I looked at him raising my eyebrow slightly. Okay, so it wasn't only familiar to me.

"H-hang on. What's gonna happen again?" John asked us as he followed after the two of us.

"Boom!" Sherlock and I said in unison as we turned back and raised our hand, including those which we joined, above our heads dramatically. We headed off back through the division with John behind us, Lestrade hurrying after us as he tried to slip his coat on. Sherlock sent me a look as we got outside the Yard and I winced at the bright light, I squeezed his hand slightly as the four of us stood on the curbing and hailed a cab. Once one finally slowed down to a stop, the four of us looked at each other in a silent question. How were we going to do this? Sarah had been a lot smaller than Lestrade and we barely managed to all fit in the back. I was just about to say I would sit up front even if I was comfortable with the idea after our run in with a certain cabbie when Sherlock pulled me into the back of the cab. He slid across to the far end before pulling me down on his lap and I let out a little grunt of surprise when the breath was momentarily knocked out of me.

Lestrade and John looked inside the back of the cab both with raised eyebrows before Sherlock looked over my shoulder at them. He must have sent them a look because John quickly slid into the cab followed by Lestrade who shut the door. In our current position my back was to Sherlock's front and his chin was resting on my shoulder as I was slouched on top of him. I rested my head back, finding a perch on Sherlock's shoulder and I sighed as he told the cabbie the address quietly enough so as not to upset my head. As we pulled out into traffic, Sherlock's arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in place as we couldn't exactly wear a seat belt. I was too tired to even notice the odd looks that Lestrade and John sent our way, the army doctor's questioning while Lestrade stared at us with his mouth open in shock. Sherlock looked forward through the entire silent ride back to Baker Street and once the cab pulled up outside of 221, Sherlock handed the cabbie a few notes before he opened the door, letting me out first before he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door. He unlocked it with his other hand as John and Lestrade waited behind us before he led the three of us inside. I knew what he was onto when he bypassed the stairs and headed along the corridor towards Mrs. Hudson's flat. Just as we reached it, Sherlock stopped and turned to the left where there was another door which lead to a basement flat, 221C. Sherlock turned his head and called out loudly towards our landlady's front door.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He shouted and we waited for a long moment before we heard footsteps coming to the door before it opened to reveal Mrs. Hudson. "We need to see the basement flat," Sherlock said as soon as she opened the door. I smacked him with my free hand and we glared at each other before I looked back at Mrs. Hudson who still looked confused at what she was being asked, but had a knowing smile on her face.

"Sorry, could you please get the keys for 221C? We need to get in there for a case," I told Mrs. Hudson and she nodded slowly before turning back and closing her door to go and find the keys leaving us out in the hall.

"Quickly!" Sherlock shouted impatiently before he huffed and I popped my hip to the side and fixed him with a glare and a raised eyebrow. "Thank you," Sherlock added after looking at me for a long moment and I nodded slightly as the four of us waited for Mrs. Hudson out in the hall. Sherlock and I moved over to the door of 221C and examined the padlock attached to the door. I noted that there were a few scratches on the padlock, ones that looked news. You could tell the old scratches from the new ones. We didn't have to wait long before Mrs. Hudson opened her door again and handed Sherlock over the set of keys. He took them and let go of my hand then he began to unlock the door.

"You had a look, didn't you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about your flat," Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock unlocked it. Well, that was where I had thought I had seen it before. It looked similar to the living room of our flat.

"The door's been opened recently," Sherlock said as he looked closely at the door key hole and I nodded.

"No, can't be. That's the only key," Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock pulled of the padlock before he selected another key and put it into the keyhole.

"If you're like me then you don't need a key in order to get through locked doors Mrs. Hudson," I told the older woman, patting her shoulder slightly.

"I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp, I expect. That's the curse of basements," Mrs. Hudson told me as Sherlock turned the key and pulled the door open. He immediately went inside and John and Lestrade followed him, taking little or no notice of Mrs Hudson as she continued rambling on. "I had a place once when I was first married. Black mould all up the walls...," Mrs. Hudson told me trailing to a halt as Lestrade closed the door behind him. She turned looked at me in exasperation. "Oh! Men!" She cried, patting me on the arm.

"Yeah, tell me about it," I told Mrs. Hudson, rubbing my head slightly as I sighed heavily.

"I'll make you a cup of tea love. You go see to it that they don't get up to anything," Mrs. Hudson told me, patting my arm before she made her way back to the door of her flat. I nodded, stealing myself before I opened the door to 221C, letting the door bang slightly against the wall to announce my presence before I hurried down the stairs, pulling on a pair of gloves and letting them snap into place as I walked into the flat. The room looked exactly as it did in the photograph on the phone with one exception...there was a pair of trainers placed neatly in the middle of the floor, their toes pointed towards the door.

Sherlock had started to walk towards them but John held out a cautionary hand towards him as I walked into the room behind John and Lestrade. "He's a bomber, remember," John warned him and Sherlock stopped for a moment, then continued slowly towards the trainers. I rolled my eyes and walked around Lestrade, talking a few strides over to Sherlock's side. He threw me a look and then we both crouched down slowly, putting our hands on the floor before we leaned forward. We lowered our bodies down and moved closer to the shoes carefully. Just as our noses were almost touching them, a phone began ringing. Sherlock and I jumped and I closed my eyes momentarily, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did I opened my eyes, standing up at the same time as Sherlock who pulled off his gloves and took the pink iPhone from his coat pocket. He read the caller I.D. and I saw over his shoulder that it read NUMBER BLOCKED. He paused for a second before he answered the phone which was already on speaker.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered softly and I heard a female voice draw in a shaky breath before she spoke tearfully.

"H-hello ... sexies," The woman said and Sherlock and I exchanged puzzled looks as the woman sobbed.

"Who's this?" Sherlock asked the woman as I closed my eyes, trying to see if I could hear any indicators in the background.

"I've ... sent you ... a little puzzle ... just to say hi," The woman said tearfully and I frowned. The bomb, the phone, this was a puzzle for us to solve.

"Who's talking? Why are you crying?" Sherlock asked the woman and I shook my head before opening my eyes.

"She's not crying," I said and Sherlock's eyes shot over to me and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. I shook my head again. "No, she is crying, but they're not. She's reading," I told Sherlock and before he could answer me the woman did.

"Very… good. Well done… beautiful… bird," The woman said shakily her voice full of tears and I stiffened and drew in a shaky breath. "Y-You're right. I-I'm not ... crying ... I'm typing ... and this ... stupid ... bitch ... is reading it out," The woman sobbed again and Sherlock gazed at me thoughtfully as I tried to get my muscles to relax.

"The curtain rises," Sherlock told me softly and I nodded slightly, the movement slightly halted as I bit my lip.

"What?" John asked us and I waved my hand behind us.

"Nothing," I told John quickly.

"No, what did you mean?" John asked us and Sherlock half turned his head towards him.

"We've been expecting this for some time," Sherlock answered him before the woman started talking again.

"Twelve hours to solve ... my puzzle, Sherlock ...Lexi... or I'm going ... to be ... so naughty," The woman said before the phone went dead. Even with the woman reading out my name, I shivered slightly in unease. Only those who I really knew, who I really liked, knew me as Lexi. Sherlock and I shared a look before Sherlock carefully bent down and picked up the trainers in his still gloved hand.

"We'll have to take these to Bart's lab. I need to run tests," Sherlock said as slipped the pink mobile back into his jacket and turned, walking towards the door.

"Hold on there Sherlock, these are evidence," Lestrade protested, holding his arm out to block Sherlock from going back up stairs.

"You heard the woman Lestrade. Twelve hours to solve this puzzle. Unless you think your detectives are competent to solve this case in that amount of time, by all means," Sherlock said as he and Lestrade stared each other down, John watch the two of them wearily.

"Children," I said as I walked forward and put my hands on my hips. "Play nicely," I told them and both men turned towards me with equally hard glares. I raised an eyebrow at them and they both suddenly lost the glares. "That's what I thought," I told them before turning to Lestrade. "Now, Sherlock and I will run some tests on the shoes and try to figure out why they are important to the case. Once we are done I will personally make sure they get back to you for evidence. There is a woman out there somewhere in the city being held hostage so we will attempt to work together and not act like the children we are currently being," I told both men as I watched John bite his lip, hiding a smirk. "The same goes for you Watson," I shot over to the army doctor who immediately sobered. I reached forward and took the shoes from Sherlock before nodding and walking between both of them, heading for the stairs. I ignored them and walked up them as I heard the three of them say something to one another before following after me. Mrs. Hudson walked out of her flat with a thermos of tea which she handed me and I thanked her as I moved towards the door which she opened for me before I walked out onto the curbing. The three men filed out with me and I looked at them all as they shuffled, looking like children whose mother had scolded them.

"I'll just get back to the Yard then. I want to be notified with anything you find," Lestrade told me firmly and I nodded tightly.

"Will do Detective Inspector," I said formally and Lestrade gave me a look before he hailed a cab. He opened the door for me and held it open, letting me slid inside before he looked at John and Sherlock. Sherlock slid in and then John before Lestrade closed the door and patted the side of the cab. "St. Bart's," I told the cabbie and he nodded at me before quickly pulling out onto the street. I was slowly losing my patients with them. We rode in tense silence and as soon as we arrived at the hospital I got out of the cab and left Sherlock and John behind as I headed inside the hospital. They boys caught up with me as I walked down to the lab with the trainers, being carefully to hold them in front of me to not contaminate them. I meet up with Molly in the hall who was just heading to lunch and let her know we would be in the lab for a while. She told us to take all the time we needed before she waved at me and walked off. Thankfully Sherlock's normal lab was open and I put the trainers down on the lab table before stopping and sighing. "Care to help?" I asked Sherlock a bit more softly and he nodded before he removed his coat as I did too, throwing it over the end of the lab table with mine. Sherlock found some latex gloves and handed me a pair as I took off the ones I was wearing and washed my hands before pulling them on as John shuffled over and sat down on a stool on the other side of the room.

I looked at Sherlock and nodded at him before I moved and grabbed a few things that we might need to examine them including some petri dishes and metal scrapers. Sherlock picked up the trainers and examined the laces carefully, peering at the shoes from all directions. He held them up and I worked around him digging out mud from the treads in the soles and putting it into a dish. Sherlock put the shoes down again and looked at them thoughtfully. I moved with the petri dish, walking around the lab and grabbing a few test tubes and chemicals and putting them all in a line on the lab table. Next I moved over to the door and grabbed a white lab coat off of one of the pegs, sliding it on over my clothes before I moved back over to the lab table to start running test with Sherlock. We worked in tense silence for a bit before I finally broke the silence with a sigh as I mixed chemicals in a test tube, my glasses on my nose again.

"I'm sorry," I said and Sherlock and John suddenly looked up at me. I put the test tube I was working on back in the rack and sighed again. "Bad day," I told them and John nodded at me slowly.

"Beautiful bird? What did the woman mean by that?" John asked me and I looked up at him stiffening a bit again as Sherlock sat down on a lab stool beside me after setting up the scanner to run some tests on the dirt. He flicked his gaze over to me as I brought my hand up and rubbed my forehead.

"I don't know," I lied, not ready to have this conversation with him. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at me slightly before he leaned over the lab table, looking into a microscope which he had loaded a slide of the dirt into. I picked up my test tubes again and continued, mixing deionized water into the dirt in the test tubes before I poured a bit of each mixture onto two separate watch glasses. John stood and started wandering up and down on the other side of the bench.

"So, who d'you suppose it was?" John asked us as a phone suddenly trilled a text alert. I pulled out my phone and notice I had not one, but sixteen texts all from Mycroft. I turned my phone off, ignoring them for now.

"Hmm?" Sherlock said absently, ignoring the text he had received.

"The woman on the phone – the crying woman," John said and I looked up at him as I turned back to the lab table with my red and blue Litmus paper.

"Oh, she doesn't matter. She's just a hostage. No lead there," Sherlock said and I shot a look over at him as John looked up at me questioningly. I nodded slightly, confirming he had heard what he thought he had.

"For God's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads," John said in exasperation.

"You're not going to be much use to her," Sherlock said as he glanced across to the scanner as it continued throwing up "NO MATCH" results, then looked back into his microscope. I stopped working and watched the two of them passively.

"Are-are they trying to trace it, trace the call?" John asked us and I looked at Sherlock, not liking where this was going again.

"The bomber's too smart for that," Sherlock said and I nodded at that as I looked back at John.

"He most likely used a burn out phone or one that can't be traced. I can try to track it myself, but I doubt I would have any luck," I said as Sherlock's phone trilled another text alert.

"Pass me my phone," Sherlock said as I dipped a piece of red Litmus paper into each of the watch glasses before pulling it out and holding it up to check for any change. The red paper turned blue and I raised an eyebrow as I set them down in a metal dish as John looked around the room.

"Where is it?" John asked Sherlock as I picked up the blue Litmus paper and repeated the experiment.

"Jacket," Sherlock told him and I looked up as John straightened up slowly, his entire body going rigid in disbelief and his eyes broadcasting the message "I am going to kill him."

"Join the party," I told John and he turned to his right, marching stiffly around the table before slamming one hand onto Sherlock's shoulder and roughly pulling his jacket open with the other as he started to rummage in his inside pocket.

"Careful," Sherlock told him angrily, still not looking up. John just about held onto his temper and pulled Sherlock's mobile out and looked at it.

"Text from your brother," John told him as he opened it and read it.

"Delete it," Sherlock told him as he performed his own experiment.

"Delete it?" John asked Sherlock, making sure he had heard him right.

"Missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it," Sherlock said as John looked at the message again before he flashed Sherlock's phone at me so I could read it too.

**_RE: BRUCE-PARTINGTON PLANS_**

**_Any progress on Andrew_**

**_West's death?_**

**_Mycroft_**

"Well, Mycroft thinks there is. He's texted you eight times. Must be important," John said as I snorted.

"He's texted me sixteen times. Probably is important," I told John with a shrug. I would work on it later once we had figured this out. Probably meant I wasn't getting any sleep any time soon. Sherlock raised his head in exasperation.

"Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?" Sherlock asked John who sighed tiredly.

"His what?" John asked him as I threw the army doctor a pitying look.

"Mycroft never texts if he can talk," Sherlock said and I grinned at him.

"Except for me," I cut in and Sherlock looked over at me and glared as I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them, got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this, why is my brother so determined to bore me when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting?" Sherlock asked as he looked back into the microscope again. I looked back at my blue Litmus paper which hadn't changed colour. That meant that alkaline was present in the dirt.

"Try and remember there's a woman here who might die," John said, switching of Sherlock's phone as I placed the papers with the first ones in the metal dish to my left.

"What for?" Sherlock asked as he looked up at John. I raised an eyebrow at the consulting detective, but said nothing. I was not going to take sides in this. "This hospital's full of people dying, Doctor. Why don't you go and cry by their bedside and see what good it does them?" Sherlock said and John looked away in disbelief.

"John," I said as the army doctor sniffed in and I closed my eyes before opening them and turning to Sherlock. Unmoved, he looked back into the microscope but just then the computer beeps a result. I looked up at it as it beeped and found that it finally found what we were looking for.

"Ah!" Sherlock called in delight as he looked across to the screen which was flashing "SEARCH COMPLETE". At the same moment Molly came in through the door with a smile on her face.

"Any luck?" Molly asked us and I nodded at her sending her a small smile.

"Oh, yes!" Sherlock said triumphantly as Molly came over to look at the screen. I looked up towards the door when a man in his thirties, wearing slacks and a T-shirt, came in the door and then stopped apologetically. I frowned for a moment as I slowly pulled my gloves off and threw them down on the lab table.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't...," The man said sheepishly as he looked around the room before his eyes fell on me and stayed there for a long moment.

"Jim! Hi!" Molly said as "Jim" made as if to leave the room before Molly stopped him. He finally looked away from me as Molly addressed him. "Come in! Come in!" Molly said with a bright smile. Ah, she was dating him. Sherlock looked over at Molly briefly, running his eyes down her body and apparently making an instant deduction as I had, then looked back into the microscope. Jim closed the door and walked over to Molly as the girl made introductions. "Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna."

"Ah!" Jim said as John turned towards them and Molly looked back at him blankly.

"And, uh ... sorry," Molly said apologetically, not knowing John's name.

"John Watson. Hi," John introduced himself.

"Hi," Jim said, his eyes locked on Sherlock's back as he gazed at him admiringly. He spoke in a casual London accent which made me frown. He looked slightly too pale for London. In fact, I would place him as having an Irish bloodline. "So you're Sherlock Holmes and the allusive Alex. Molly's told me all about you two. You on one of your cases?" Jim asked as he walked closer to Sherlock and me, forcing John to step out of his way.

"Aye, hello," I said with a slight smile and Jim looked up at me and locked eyes with me. I found myself holding back a shudder. There was just something in his gaze that made my stomach tighten. I kept the smile on my face however, not letting my discomfort known.

"Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That's how we met. Office romance," Molly said and she and Jim giggled. Sherlock glanced briefly round at Jim before returning to look into the 'scope.

"Gay," Sherlock said and Molly's smile faded as I mentally face palmed. I kicked Sherlock hard on the leg under the lab table and shot him a dark look as he snapped his head towards me.

"Sorry, what?" Molly asked him and Sherlock raised his head as he realized what he'd just done and why I was mad at him.

"Nothing," Sherlock said quickly before he smiled round falsely at Jim. "Um, hey."

"Hey," Jim said smiling admiringly at him before his gaze flicked up to me. He lowered his hand, knocking the metal dish between Sherlock and me off the edge of the table. I stiffened slightly as he scrambled to pick it up, bumping into my leg slightly. "Sorry! Sorry!" Jim apologized giggling nervously as he straightened up, standing rather close to me now, about an inch and a half from me. I didn't like people that closely in my personal space normally. Especially people that made me uncomfortable. I schooled my face as Jim looked up at me again.

"Tis alright. No harm done," I said my Irish lilt coming out. John turned away, face-palming, as Sherlock looked in irritation while Jim put the dish back on the table and then scratched his arm as he wandered back towards Molly. Molly sent me an appreciative look for me having spoken up.

"Well, I'd better be off. I'll see you at the Fox, 'bout six-ish?" Jim asked Molly awkwardly and Molly smiled a bit at him.

"Yeah!" She answered him excitedly and Jim stopped beside her, putting a hand on her back, and looked back towards Sherlock and me.

"Bye," Jim said as he stared me down and I looked back at him passively, holding back another shutter. Beneath his nervous exterior, there was something dangerous behind his eyes.

"Bye," Molly said softly as Jim continued to stare me down.

"It was nice to meet you," Jim said, his gaze falling on Sherlock who ignored him as Jim gazed at him wistfully before his eyes flicked back up to me and he smiled, no smirked slightly. John thankfully broke the embarrassing silence.

"You too," John told him as I stood frozen in place. Jim blinked at him, looking awkward, then turned and left the room. Molly waited until the door closed before turning to Sherlock.

"What d'you mean, gay? We're together," Molly demanded of Sherlock, looking up at me for help as I blinked rapidly, trying to calm my heart rate. I had felt a shot of adrenaline in my system as Jim stared me down, my flight or fight response kicking in.

"And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You've put on three pounds since I last saw you," Sherlock said as he looked across to her.

"Two and a half," Molly argued and Sherlock shook his head slightly as I calmed my breathing. In through the mouth out through the nose. If you have a panic attack here, they'll know something is wrong and then they'll just think you are being silly.

"Nuh, three," Sherlock shot back as my heart finally slowed back to a normal pace.

"Sherlock ...," John tried before Molly cut him off.

"He's not gay. Why d'you have to spoil...? He's not," Molly said angrily.

"With that level of personal grooming?" Sherlock snorted just as I found my voice again.

"Lock…," I warned and Molly shot a look of thanks over at me before John cut me off.

"Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair," John said in exasperation and I sighed, bring one of my hands up to pinch the bridge of my nose.

"You wash your hair. There's a difference. No-no – tinted eyelashes; clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines; those tired clubber's eyes. Then there's his underwear," Sherlock said and I groaned. He couldn't just leave it could he? Yes, he was right, but could he honestly not just leave it alone?

"His underwear?" Molly asked in confusion as she looked across at me and I shook my head. I was Switzerland.

"Visible above the waistline – very visible; very particular brand," Sherlock said and I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"Glad to know you know which brand of underwear makes someone gay," I quipped and Sherlock sent me a glare before he continued and reached for the metal dish.

"That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish here ...," Sherlock said as he showed Molly the card that Jim had left under the dish. I frowned, I must have missed that while he was staring at me. "... and I'd say you'd better break it off now and save yourself the pain," Sherlock concluded and Molly stared at him for a moment, then turned and ran out of the room. Sherlock looked surprised at her reaction.

"Charming. Well done," John told Sherlock sarcastically.

"Just saving her time. Isn't that kinder?" Sherlock asked us and I shook my head at him.

""Kinder"? No, no, Sherlock. That wasn't kind," John told him and, looking fed up with the conversation, Sherlock put Jim's card down.

"Leave it to me," I told John, moving around Sherlock and shaking my head at him as I walked off to find Molly, leaving the boys alone. I walked out into the hallway and headed for the nearest bathroom knowing that was where I would find her. I tried the door to find it locked and I knocked gently on it. "Molly sweetie, could you open the door for me?" I asked through the door only to be met with silence. "Honey, I want to come in to talk to you, but you need to let me in sweetie," I said and I waited for a moment before I heard the click of the door unlocking and a red eyed Molly opened the door, tears running down her face. "Oh sweetie," I said as I walked into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me before I drew Molly into a tight hug and let her cry on my shoulder.

"He always spoils everything," Molly sobbed into my shoulder as I rubbed circles onto her back and tried to calm her down. "He was right. Jim… was flirting…with a guy… in the hall," Molly choked out and I sighed heavily, patting Molly on the back.

It was a good thing I hadn't run into him on my way here because despite the bad vibes I got from him, I was not against giving him an arse whipping. Molly was a sweet girl and she deserved better. "Shhh, honey," I said as I patted Molly's head, holding onto her. "I know it hurts, but it's going to be okay," I told her and she sobbed harder.

"How?" Molly wailed and I pulled her back slightly and she wiped her eyes and sniffed back some snot. I would have been grossed out if I didn't look like a hot mess too.

"Because Sherlock is an ass," I said and Molly's eyes widened in surprise.

"But you two…," Molly stuttered and I shook my head quickly.

"You think because I live with him and I'm friends with him that I always agree with him?" I asked Molly and she nodded slightly. "Nope," I told her shaking my head again. "He's an ass. Granted, not all the time, but he wouldn't be Sherlock if he wasn't an ass. It seems to come with the name of Holmes because his brother can be no better at times," I told Molly my accent slipping back into Irish. "And you know what? Sherlock is pissing me off," I told the pathologist who looked at me in surprise. "What he was saying isn't true honey and Jim? Well Jim doesn't deserve someone like you. Sweetie, you are going to find the person that makes you happy," I told Molly who nodded at me slowly as she wiped at her eyes with an acquired tissue.

"Do you ever just want to hit him?" Molly asked me quietly and I barked out a laugh. Molly giggled slightly as I nodded at her.

"All the time. He can be such an idiot for how smart he is. I want you to do one thing for me though. When he is being an idiot, don't listen to him. You are more important than he gives you credit for. And by all means, if hitting him would make you feel better, have at it. Sometimes I think the great Sherlock Holmes needs to be slapped to be put in his place," I told Molly whose eyes widened in surprise.

"I couldn't," Molly stammered and I gave her a pointed look.

"So are you just going to let him get away with how he treats you?" I asked Molly raising one eyebrow and she shook her head quickly. "Then give it right back to him" I told the girl with a grin. "When he is being an ass give it right back to him and if you need to, call upon the Irish. We Irish women have tempers to rival that of men," I told the girl who laughed at that. "So, no more tears?" I asked her and she nodded.

"No more," She agreed and she walked over to the sink and washed her face a bit.

"I should get back before John kills him. I don't feel like having to try and get him out of jail tonight," I told Molly who laughed slightly and nodded. I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall, looking both ways and walking out as soon as I was sure I wasn't going to run into Jim. There was something about the man that told me to run and not stop.

**John's POV**

As soon as Lexi ran out of the room after Molly Sherlock looked towards the door for a long moment before he reached over and moved one of the trainers on the desk closer to John. "Go on, then," Sherlock said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

"Mmm?" John asked the consulting detective as he looked away from the door Lexi had departed out of.

"You know what I do. Off you go," Sherlock told him, sitting back and folding his arms expectantly. John made incoherent negative noises and looked at his watch.

"No."

"Go on," Sherlock told him and John shook his head slightly.

"I'm not gonna stand here so you can humiliate me while I try and disseminate...," John began before Sherlock interrupted him.

"An outside eye, a second opinion. It's very useful to me."

"Yeah, right!" John said sarcastically. "Why don't you ask Lexi when she comes back then?" John asked Sherlock and he swore he saw the man's eyes widen slightly.

"Really," Sherlock said answering John's first statement. "And because she already sees what I do. Her opinion would be useless," Sherlock told John and the army doctor smirked at him slightly.

"I wouldn't let her hear that," John said, taking pleasure when he saw Sherlock smile nervously. The army doctor had no doubt that Sherlock would be told off by Lexi at some later time. The expression on her face before she left the lab room had been enough to let John know that she was not in a good mood and probably a bit disappointed. Disappointment from Lexi was far worse than her anger. John turned back to him and stared at him for a long moment before nodding in exasperation. "Fine," John answered him clearing his throat. He picked up the shoe and looked at it and its partner lying on the table. "I dunno – they're just a pair of shoes," John said before immediately correcting himself. "Trainers."

"Good," Sherlock told him looking away and picking up his phone as John continued looking at the trainers.

"Umm ... they're in good nick. I'd say they were pretty new ... except the sole has been well-worn, so the owner must have had them for a while," John said, noting that Sherlock looked at him in frustration when he said they were new before he sighed when John got it right. Taking that as a cue, John continued. "Uh, they're very eighties – probably one of those retro designs."

"You're on sparkling form. What else?' Sherlock asked him, encouraging him.

"Well, they're quite big, so a man's," John said slightly unsure of that assessment.

"But ...?" Sherlock prompted him and John looked at the insides of both shoes and the blue smudges at the sides.

"But there's traces of a name inside in felt-tip. Adults don't write their names inside their shoes, so these belonged to a kid."

"Excellent. What else?" Sherlock asked him as he looked up at him proudly.

"Uh...," John said as he looked again at the shoe he was holding, then put it down. "...that's it."

"That's it?" Sherlock asked him and John nodded.

"How did I do?" John asked the consulting detective. No, he wasn't looking for praise. He sure as hell wasn't going to get that from Sherlock. Lexi perhaps, she at least didn't think he was an idiot, but not from Sherlock.

"Well, John; really well," Sherlock said pausing momentarily. John stared back at him, not sure if he had heard him right. "I mean, you missed almost everything of importance, but, um, you know ...," Sherlock said and John nodded slightly. Ah, there it was. Sherlock lifted his hand and slowly rotated his wrist to turn his palm up, his expression full of sarcasm. With a look of frustration, John picked up the trainer and gave it to him. Sherlock looked at it closely as he went into deduction mode as John liked to call it.

"The owner loved these. Scrubbed them clean, whitened them where they got discoloured. Changed the laces three ...," Sherlock said before he was cut off.

"Four times," A woman called in an Irish accent and John and Sherlock both looked over to the door as Lexi walked back into the lab. She had a slightly stony expression on her face which John was grateful to see was directed at Sherlock, but other than that she seemed slightly less pissed than before. There was one thing John never wanted to see and that was Lexi properly mad. Sure he had seen her pissed off before, but he had a feeling that her anger could get a lot worse than what he had already seen. John put his hands on the desk and lowered his head in despair. He could see and argument starting on the near horizon between the two detectives.

"Even so, there are traces of his flaky skin where his fingers have come into contact with them, so he suffered from eczema," Sherlock said as Lexi came to stand rigidly beside him, her glasses on as she leaned in slightly and looked over the trainers with a skilled eye. That was the one thing John had noticed about the girl. She was farsighted which is why she would put on her glasses when inspecting anything closely. He had watched her wear them occasionally at the flat, but she rarely wore them, choosing instead to hold her book in her lap.

"The shoes are well-worn and are more so on the inside which means, like me, the owner had weak arches. They're British-made. I'd say about twenty years old," Lexi deduced before she straightened up and took her glasses of.

"Twenty years?" John asked her as he likewise straightened up.

"They're not retro – they're original,' Sherlock told him as he showed John an image on his phone of a similar pair of shoes. "Limited edition, two blue stripes, nineteen eighty-nine."

"But there's still mud on them. They look new," John said in confusion and Lexi nodded, humming slightly.

"Someone's kept them that way for whatever reason. I want to say that they are like a trophy," Lexi said thoughtfully as she rubbed her head. John frowned slightly. She had been doing that since this morning.

"Quite a bit of mud caked on the soles. Analysis shows it's from Sussex, with London mud overlaying it," Sherlock said, continuing with the deductions.

"How do you know?" John asked him and Sherlock nodded his head towards the computer screen.

"Pollen. Clear as a map reference to me," Sherlock told the army doctor who looked at the screen as well. Two dots were flashing on a map of Britain, one around the borders of East and West Sussex and the other to the south-east of London. "South of the river, too. So, the kid who owned these trainers came to London from Sussex twenty years ago and left them behind."

"So what happened to him?" John asked the detectives who shared a look before they both turned to the army doctor.

"Something bad," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted slightly, earning a look from Sherlock.

"Obviously," Lexi remarked with a small sniff and John bit his lip to keep from laughing. Sherlock looked back up at the army doctor and away from Lexi who was picking at her nails.

"He loved those shoes, remember. He'd never leave them filthy. Wouldn't leave them go unless he had to. So, a child with big feet gets...," Sherlock said, trailing off and staring ahead of himself as Lexi jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise. John stared at her, not sure if he had heard what he thought he had. Had she seriously just squeaked?

"Oh," Sherlock said softly and the army doctor looked across the lab, trying to see what Sherlock was looking at.

"What?" John asked his flat mates in confusion.

"Carl Powers," Sherlock said softly as Lexi's eyes widened in surprise. Obviously she knew who he was talking about.

"Sorry, who?" John asked Sherlock, no less confused.

"Carl Powers, John," Sherlock answered him still staring into the distance.

"What is it?" John asked as Lexi opened her mouth and closed it as if she was in shock.

"It's where I began," Sherlock said softly before Lexi spoke, her voice very quiet and John wasn't sure if he had heard her properly at first.

"It's where I began too," Lexi said and Sherlock snapped his head to her and the two detectives shared a long look. John gaped in surprise as the two detectives looked at each other in shock. Whatever this case was, the crying woman, the hostage, however this was related, John felt very uneasy. Especially with the knowledge that this case, these shoes, weren't just tied to Sherlock's past but also Lexi's. By the look on the girl's face, something had her upset and John was determined to know what. The way she had reacted when she heard the name beautiful bird was indication enough that she knew more than she was letting on.


	48. Beautiful Bird

(**A/N)**

**Happy Saturday! I am overwhelmed by all of your reviews. Fireball221b I don't think you are crazy at all sweetie. I sometimes pretend to be Lexi because it is easier some times. I'm sorry to hear that your recovery is going to take longer. If you ever need someone to talk to my email is melodymorrison221 gmail dot com. Feel free to email me. That goes for all of you honestly. PM me or email me I do honestly read every message and respond to them.**

**I love you all I am blown away by all of your kind words. This is the case where Sherlock and Lexi first get together. Some of you are going to hate Scandal in Belgraiva with a passion as I am worse than Moffat with that case. Everything happens for a reason though and we see a lot of character development, both Lexi and Sherlock, and we get to see what Lexi means to Sherlock definitively.**

**I'm posting this early, well early for me. It's nearly 7:30 in the morning and thank the stars it is Saturday because I never fell asleep last night. I'm turning into a vampire today and I am going to try to get a few hours of sleep at least. Hope you all enjoy the chapter! More Lexi and Sherlock moments *wiggles eyebrows* Soon, be patient, soon. Find a couple name for them in the meantime. I promise it is during this case that they get together. More new developments though like cuddling. I see Sherlock as a closet cuddlier. He loves human contact and cuddling but he distances himself from people and refuses to let himself get that close to someone. He denies himself a lot because he honestly thinks he doesn't deserve it and it takes Lexi to show him that he does. Course, when does she ever take no for an answer? Anyway, Allons-y!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty Six- Beautiful Bird<p>

After we finished up in the lab, Sherlock put the trainers into a bag so they wouldn't get contaminated and we headed outside to catch a cab back to the flat. When I saw Molly again out in the hall I made a slapping gesture and she waved me off with a slight grin. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me and John threw me an odd look and I just smiled at the both of them mischievously. Woman had to stand together. As much as I loved Sherlock I would be the first to say he was an arrogant ass who needed to be told off every so often to remind him how to act civilly. I now understood what Mummy Holmes meant when she told me Mycroft and Sherlock were a handful to raise. Lucky for me she had given me some advice on how to handle them and one piece of that advice was not to let Sherlock step all over me. I slid into the back of a cab with John and Sherlock, sitting in the middle this time between the boys.

"Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident," Sherlock said as he reached across me to show John the front page of a newspaper on his phone. I remembered this article. "You wouldn't remember it. Why should you?" Sherlock asked John and I nodded.

"But you remember," John said as he looked between Sherlock and me.

"Yes," Sherlock and I answered him in unison. We shared a look and then looked away from each other.

"Something fishy about it?" John asked us and I nodded. There had always been something off about the case, something that hadn't sat right with me.

"Nobody thought so – nobody except me and apparently…. Lexi," Sherlock said rather slowly as he eyed me intensely, a burning question in his eyes. "I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers," Sherlock told us, shooting me another look. We held it for a long moment before looking away from each other again.

"I saw it on the telly, but there wasn't much about the case on the news in Ireland. I ended up looking up a lot online from the British newspapers," I told the two of them, John looking at me in surprise at this admission.

"Started young, didn't you?" John asked us and I sighed and nodded at the army doctor.

"I was six," I told them with a shrug and Sherlock and John both looked at me in surprise. I had a lot of time on my hands when I was a child. Carl Powers had been my first case. Sherlock would have been eight at the time and John would have been fifteen. John was nine years older than me and seven older than Sherlock.

"The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn't get out of my head," Sherlock said, his expression going back to normal even if he did shoot the occasional look my way.

"What?" John asked Sherlock as I sat back in my seat. The case had been interesting, but it wasn't that which had me on edge. It was the fact that somehow this bomber knew what our first case was. He already knew personal things about me.

"His shoes," Sherlock told the army doctor and I hummed in agreement.

"What about them?" John asked us and I looked across at Sherlock, waiting for his answer too.

"They weren't there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important," Sherlock said and I nodded before speaking. I had never thought that I would ever share this with them. Maybe at a later time, but never now.

"That was what threw me too. Granddad would read me crime stories, he got me interested in being a detective. When I saw the news story on the telly it didn't make since to me why his shoes wouldn't have been there. It was odd. I tried to write to the police, but they just thought I was a cute kid trying to play cop. They wouldn't take me seriously. Granddad listened to me though. He helped me find out more about the case. I tried to solve it, but the case went cold," I told the two men as I picked at the sleeve of my shirt.

"He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes ...," Sherlock continued before he leaned down and picked up the bag containing the trainers. "...until now," Sherlock finished before the three of us sat back in our seats. As we sat in the back of the taxi, Sherlock pulled out the pink phone and held it, seemingly lost in thought. When we got back to Baker Street I paid the cabbie and then Sherlock and I sprang out of the cab and up to the flat. As soon as we got upstairs I took off my coat and scarf and hung them up with Sherlock's before I headed straight to my room.

I rummaged around in my closet looking for a certain box which I found on a high shelf. It took some jumping and standing on tip toes, but I finally managed to pull it down. I brought the box over to my bed and sat down before finding a pair of scissors and cutting open the box. I opened it to find the things I had kept from my childhood, at least the things I thought were important enough to keep within reach. The first thing I pulled out was a wooden box that had an old Irish proverb carved into the top and a four leaf clover. I carefully unlatched the box and opened it to reveal a golden locket inside. I pulled it out of the box and set the box down on the bed, rubbing my thumb over the locket. It had a sparrow engraved on the front and the words beautiful bird engraved inside of it. It was a gift from my Granddad. His nickname for me growing up was always beautiful bird. That was why I was so scared about why the bomber knew the name. No one knew about the nickname except for a handful of people. I put the locket on and put my hand over it before tucking it under the collar of my shirt.

I dug back into the box and found a huge file, pulling it out before I packed the wooden box back into it and then pushed the box back up into the closet. I padded back out into the kitchen where Sherlock was sitting, shut up in the kitchen with the trainers nearby still in their bag. He had photographs and printouts of newspaper reports on Carl Powers' death from 1989 in front of him. I threw down the file onto the kitchen table and stood across from him as he looked up from me and I opened the file. It was full of everything I had about the Carl Powers' case. I pulled out all the newspaper articles and pictures that had my handwriting on it from when I was six which was surprisingly good. I smiled fondly at the few pictures that had my Granddad's writing on them. In the living room, on the other side of the closed doors, I could hear John pacing back and forth. He finally stopped and slid one of the doors open to the kitchen.

"Can I help?" John asked us and Sherlock didn't react to him at all. I looked up at John and eyed him to see if he was being honest and really did want to help. "I want to help. There's only five hours left," John continued and his phone sounded a text alert. He got his phone from his trouser pocket and looked at the message. "It's your brother. He's texting me now," John said with a frown. "How does he know my number?" John asked us and I shook my head at him.

"Don't. You really don't want to know how Mycroft does half the stuff he does. Stay out of it while you still can," I told John as my own phone sounded a text alert. I pulled my mobile out of my sweatpants pocket.

**_Any developments on the case?_**

**_Mycroft_**

"Must be a root canal," Sherlock said thoughtfully as I ignored Mycroft's text. John and I both put our mobiles away at the same time before the army doctor stepped into the kitchen.

"Look, he did say 'national importance'," John said and Sherlock snorted, not looking up from his research. I flicked my gaze over to him before I stared sorting through all my pictures.

"How quaint," Sherlock said and I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"What is?" John asked as he looked over at me questioningly.

"You are. Queen and country," Sherlock answered him and I smirked slightly.

"You can't just ignore it," John told us sternly and I looked up at him, meeting his gaze.

"I could. Technically I could ignore it," I told John with a shrug. Just because Mycroft had a case for us, didn't mean I had to work it. He had more than enough people working for him that could do the leg work for him.

"We're not ignoring it. Putting our best man onto it right now," Sherlock told John and I looked up at the consulting detective and raised an eyebrow slightly. I nodded at him in confirmation. John was the perfect person to put on the case. It was a good way to teach him what we do.

"Right. Good," John said folding his arms and nodding in satisfaction, before he looked at Sherlock and me in puzzlement. "Who's that?" John asked us and I grinned at him evilly.

"You John," I told him and he paled slightly as I continued to grin at him before turning to Sherlock, the consulting detective and I smirking at each other. This was going to be our first test. John wanted to help, therefore, we were going to let him help. I wanted John to learn how to do what we did. I knew he felt lost half the time which was why I attempted to explain things to him. Sherlock and I both turned back to John who was frowning before I started laugh. Oh, this was going to be brilliant.

**John's POV **

John Watson was not a happy man at the current moment. In fact he was far from being happy. He couldn't fathom how he ended up wearing a suit and tie and getting roped into meeting with Mycroft. He had been waiting in Mycroft's rather intimidating office for some time, sitting in a chair opposite a very large and imposing looking desk. It almost was like being in the headmaster's office again, like he was waiting to get a scolding. John anxiously looked down at his watch. He had been told that Mycroft would be right with him over an hour ago. It was then that the door opened and Mycroft walked in, reading a report. Oh, so they hadn't forgotten about him.

"John. How nice. I was hoping you wouldn't be long," Mycroft said as John politely stood up as Mycroft walked across to the desk, still looking at the report. John let the comment go about Mycroft waiting for him. "How can I help you?" Mycroft asked as he walked straight past John and put the report down on the desk, imperiously waving a hand in John's direction to signify that he could sit down again.

"Thank you," John said as he sat back down. "Um, well, I was wanting to ... um, your brother and Lexi sent me to collect more facts about the stolen plans, the missile plans," John said as Mycroft looked over his shoulder and smiled at him.

"Did they?" Mycroft asked him suspiciously and John swallowed heavily.

"Yes," John said, hoping he sounded convincing. He smiled back a little nervously as Mycroft turned towards him and leaned back against the desk. "They're investigating now," John continued as Mycroft put his hand to the right side of his mouth as if he was in pain. "They're, er, investigating away," John added as Mycroft lowered his hand again and smiled as if he did believe a word of it. "Um, I just wondered what else you can tell me about the dead man."

"Uh, twenty-seven; a clerk at Vauxhall Cross – er, MI6. He was involved in the Bruce-Partington Programme in a minor capacity. Security checks A-OK; no known terrorist affiliations or sympathies…. Last seen by his fiancée at ten thirty yesterday evening," Mycroft told him as John shifted in his chair slightly, trying to listen.

"Right. He was found at Battersea, yes? So he got on the train," John said before Mycroft cut him off.

"No."

"What?" John asked in confusion. He had to have gotten on the train. Wasn't this what Sherlock and Lexi did, put the pieces together to solve the case?

"He had an Oyster card...," Mycroft told John as he grimaced and raised his hand to his mouth again. John frowned as he began to realize that Sherlock might have been right about Mycroft having had a root canal filling to one of his teeth. "...but it hadn't been used."

"Must have bought a ticket," John tried, trying to find some other explanation. Sure, it didn't make since for him to buy a ticket if he had an Oyster card, but not everyone did what made sense.

"There was no ticket on the body," Mycroft told him as he lowered his hand again.

"Then...," John said before Mycroft cut in again.

"Then how did he end up with a bashed-in brain on the tracks at Battersea? That is the question – the one I was rather hoping Sherlock and Lexi would provide an answer to. How are they getting on?" Mycroft asked him and John shifted uncomfortably again. He couldn't tell him that they weren't even investigating the case. Also, the way Mycroft asked the question was as if he was fishing around for information not related to the case at all.

"They- They're fine, yes. Oh, and-and it is going ... very well. It's, um, you know – they're completely focused on it," John lied as he grinned at Mycroft unconvincingly.

"I meant how are they getting on as friends. They are friends aren't they? At least that is what I hear," Mycroft said as he sat back at his chair and gave John a level look. Ah, so he was asking for far more than just how they were doing on the case.

"They're friends so far as I know," John said uncomfortably, unsure if he really wanted to be talking about this with Mycroft.

"Good, that's good. I hear they've been getting rather cosy with each other. You would happen to know if…," Mycroft began before John cut him off.

"Look," John started and Mycroft tilted his head to the side in surprise. "I don't know anything about that. As far as I know, they're only friends, nothing more and I don't see how them being more than friends could be a bad thing. They get on really well and Sherlock and Lexi seem to understand each other," John started and Mycroft nodded and made a humming noise.

"Yes, but I know my brother. He is interested in Lexi because she is an interesting puzzle for him. As soon as she is no longer interesting he will grow bored of her like he does everything else. He will end up hurting her should their relationship become more than just platonic," Mycroft said and John shook his head, furrowing his brows angrily.

"And how would you know that? All you two ever do is fight and don't claim to know Lexi completely. She looks after herself and puts him in his pace enough times. And I don't see where them being together is any of your business. They have to make decisions for themselves," John told Mycroft and the older man stared at him with a look that John couldn't really place.

"I'm looking out for Lexi more than my brother. I know how Sherlock can be and I also know enough about Lexi's past to know that my brother is not what she needs. Any relationship between them would only end badly for her. My brother is not an affectionate man nor does he understand human emotions. While Lexi may claim to be unaware of them as well, she feels more than she lets on. She cares more than anyone ever could, her weakness," Mycroft told John calmly before he sighed. "I will not let my brother ruin her. I've worked far too hard to get her back to where she is now," Mycroft said and John breathed in deeply and nodded his head at Mycroft dismissively.

"Well, I don't think it's up to any of us what they do," John told Mycroft with a note of finality. "I should…," John said as he gestured back to the door and Mycroft nodded tersely before waving him off. John rose from his chair and nodded at Mycroft who had gone back to reviewing the file he had brought it. John walked back to the door and opened it, looking back at the man one more time before walking out and leaving him. Once the office door finally closed John allowed himself to sigh heavily. He checked his watch quickly, three hours to go.

**Lexi's POV**

While John was gone I had helped Sherlock take apart the shoes and start running tests on them. We worked in silence around each other as I mixed up chemicals to test fibres from the shoes while Sherlock worked at his microscope. We had decided to run a test for poisons after we sat and tried to figure out how Carl could have died. I mentioned to Sherlock how his fit in the water could have been caused by some sort of poison that might not have come back on the tox screens. I worked at the kitchen table making up slides for Sherlock while he moved over to the side table and was looking into his microscope. Mrs. Hudson came in through the kitchen door with a tray containing a couple of mugs. I looked up from my work and smiled at her as she put them on the kitchen table, sliding one over to me. I realized she brought us tea and I thanked her quietly as Sherlock suddenly looked up.

"Poison," Sherlock said suddenly and I furrowed my brows in confusion at his sudden outburst as Mrs. Hudson looked over at him.

"What you going on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock as I moved around the kitchen table to take a look into the microscope. Sherlock slammed his hand down on the side table forcefully as I bent over his shoulder and took a look into the microscope. I didn't even jump in surprise, fully used to his sudden outburst and movements by now.

"Clostridium botulinum!" Sherlock shouted as Mrs. Hudson cringed and fled the kitchen.

"Whoa, easy there sweetie," I told Sherlock as I put a hand on his arm to calm him down. He was right, the poison was clostridium botulinum which scared me slightly. Whoever killed Carl couldn't have been much older than him if he was really our bomber. That meant that some kid had been smart enough to plan his murder perfectly. Sherlock looked round at John as he came in from the living room.

"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!" Sherlock continued and John looked back at him blankly. "Carl Powers!" Sherlock shouted and I winced as I held my mug of tea to my chest.

"Sweetie, tone it down just a bit," I tried again and Sherlock looked up at me in confusion. I gave him a pointed look and he huffed mildly in irritation as I brought my free hand up and brushed the curls out of his face with a fond smile. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let out a long breath as his face relaxed slightly. Sherlock reached up and grabbed my hand in his and held it to his lips for a brief moment before pulling it back.

"Oh, wait, are you saying he was murdered?" John asked us, eyeing us closely, as Sherlock stood up and squeezed my hand slightly before he walked over to where he had hung up the laces from the trainers.

"Aye. He was murdered actually," I told John as I sat down on the stool Sherlock had vacated and watched the consulting detective.

"Remember the shoelaces?" Sherlock asked John who hummed in confirmation that he did. He was still watching us intently and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully for a moment before shaking my head and concentrating on the matter at hand again. "The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles and he drowns."

"What – how-how come the autopsy didn't pick that up?" John asked us and Sherlock looked back at me and raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Because it's virtually undetectable. Nobody would have been looking for it. If you don't know what you are looking for, you're never going to find it. No one would have ever suspected that Carl was poisoned because of his eczema cream," I explained to John as Sherlock walked around the table to where his computer notebook was lying. The page was open at the Forum of his website, The Science of Deduction and he began to type into the message box. I read it over his shoulder as I got up and walked over to join him.

**FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989).**

"But there were still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet." Sherlock said as he straightened up to point to the laces. He bent down again and continued to type.

**Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.**

He sent the message before straightening up again. "That's why they had to go," Sherlock said as I nodded in agreement. The shoes had to go because if they had tested them like we had they would have found the poison. It would have ruined the entire plan.

"So how do we let the bomber know...," John said before Sherlock cut him off.

"Get his attention..." Sherlock told him and John hummed as Sherlock looked down at his watch. "...stop the clock."

"The killer kept the shoes all these years," John pointed out and I looked over at him and nodded as he caught up with where I already was. I knew the killer had kept the trainers all these years as a trophy of sorts which could only mean our bomber was also the killer. It made sense he started off with murder before escalating to larger crimes.

"Yes," Sherlock said as he looked over at John. "Meaning..."

"He's our bomber," John said and I nodded again getting the boys attention.

"Yes and like I said the shoes were his trophy. Yes, they had to go because traces of the cream were still in them, but he wanted something to remind him of his kill," I said and Sherlock frowned at me in confusion.

"His?" He asked me and I frowned, not understanding him.

"Yes, his," I said not sure what his question was. Suddenly the pink phone rang on the side table cutting off our conversation. Sherlock hurried over to it and switched it on.

"Well done, you two. Come and get me," The woman sobbed into the phone and I shivered slightly.

"Where are you? Tell us where you are," Sherlock said loudly and clearly into the phone. The woman told us where she was and Sherlock had me stay on the phone with her as he called Lestrade and told him where he could find the woman. I stayed on the phone with her, talking to her and trying to keep her calm as she waited for the bomb squad to come and get her. I only hung up when they arrived so she could concentrate on what they needed her to do. John hadn't been able to take it anymore and had retreated up to his room, but Sherlock had stayed with me in the kitchen. I handed him back the pink phone when I hung up and I took a deep breath before taking a sip of my now cold tea. "Why his? Why did you say his before? You've only ever referenced him in a gender neutral way before," Sherlock asked me as he took the phone and put it in his back pocket.

I leaned up against the counter and shrugged at him shaking my head as John made it back downstairs and walked into the kitchen to join us now that that was over. "His yes. Statistically our bomber is male. Then comes the obvious cues. His vocabulary for one. He has to be a young male. Older men don't call women bitches. He's delusional though or he has a childlike mind. He said he was going to be naughty. Grown men in their right minds would have said angry not naughty," I told the two of them as I crossed my arms, sharing with them my growing profile of our bomber.

"Beautiful bird. What is the significance behind that?" Sherlock asked me suddenly and I froze before I could stop myself. Sherlock looked at me pointedly and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of not telling him now that he had seen it. He knew that I had lied before in the lab but he had let it go then. He wasn't going to let it go now, especially after seeing my reaction to the name. "Lexi?" Sherlock asked me slowly, his voice almost husky as it dropped a few octaves and he stepped closer to me and looked down into my eyes, raising one eyebrow. His gaze was intense and John cleared his throat and we both looked over at him before I noticed how close together Sherlock and I were standing. I coughed awkwardly and stepped away from Sherlock, busying myself with making tea for the three of us before I sighed heavily.

"Beautiful bird. It's a nickname. My grandfather called me that and my second father Alistair. They were the only two who used to call me that or even knew about it. The bomber sure as hell shouldn't know about it," I told the both of them slightly angry as I turned around and braced my arms against the counter as I looked up at the boys. John looked shocked but Sherlock looked only mildly interested.

"Is it possible you know the bomber?" John asked me and I shook my head quickly.

"No. There is no way I know him. I can't remember anyone that would even fit his profile. I didn't know any children and certainly none that went to London and then came back after committing murder, but…that doesn't make me feel any more comfortable. He shouldn't know that," I told them as I reached up and touched my locket. Sherlock crossed over to me and pulled the locket out from under my shirt and brushed his thumb over the front. He gazed down at me intensely again and I shivered slightly, my body reacting to his close contact.

"Your grandfather gave you this?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded as he looked down at the engraving of the bird.

"Yes, he did, before he died," I told him and he nodded and dropped my locket. I turned around when the kettle boiled and poured the hot water into three mugs. I tried to shake off the feelings I was getting every time Sherlock was close to me, this feeling of an energy flowing between us. It was hard to shake off though since we kept gravitating closer to one another or forced into situations where we had to be closer to one another. I winced when my head twinged and I brought a hand up to rub it.

"You okay? You've been rubbing your head a lot," John asked me as I turned around and handed John and Sherlock their tea.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, brushing him off before Sherlock cut me off.

"You might want to take a look at her John. She's suffering from a minor concussion," Sherlock said as he took a sip of his tea and moved into the living room. John's eyes widened in surprise as he looked between the two of us.

"Why did you tell me?" John demanded as I glared at the consulting detective who picked up his violin in the living room and started playing a quiet melody that was familiar and soothing and not loud enough to hurt my head any more.

"Traitor," I shot at him before I looked back at John, catching Sherlock's smirk just as I looked back at the army doctor. "I didn't say anything because I'm fine," I told John who glared back at me.

"You aren't fine. A concussion is serious," John told me before he led me by the arm into the living room and sat me down on the couch before he retreated upstairs to grab his med bag. Sherlock smirked over by the window as he turned around to look at me. I glared at him as I waited for John to come back. He proceeded to give me a full once over. "What happened to you?" John asked me as he rolled up my long sleeves and saw all the cuts on my arms.

"A bomb," I told John reluctantly. "I was a little too close to the window," I told him with a sigh as he brought out some cotton gauze and antiseptic out and started cleaning my cuts some of which had scabs on them and some of which were still slightly open. I winced slightly as the disinfectant stung a bit when applied to a few of the cuts.

"Why didn't you call me? I could have…," John said before looking away from me as I looked at him pointedly.

"We tried to call you twice and you didn't answer. Sherlock took care of me," I told John as he looked back at me guilty.

"I'm…," John started before I cut him off.

"I know. It's alright John. Honestly. I don't blame you," I assured John as he brought his pen light out and checked my eyes.

"Did you make sure she slept alright?" John as Sherlock as he looked across at the consulting detective.

"I checked in on her during the night," Sherlock told John as we shared a knowing look. We both knew that John would read more into us sleeping next to each other in the same bed. We were only sleeping with each other because Sherlock needed to make sure I was alright. It meant nothing more than that or at least that was what I was telling myself. John nodded, convinced by our lie as he turned back to me.

"I think you'll be alright. Your cuts are shallow. You might be sore for a while but they'll heal. You'll need to take it easy though. No fighting with assassins or doing anything too strenuous. You should be resting. Head injuries are serious and not something to take lightly," John lectured me and I nodded obediently.

"Got it. Leave the kicking ass to you two, but I can't take a complete break. We have our friendly bomber to worry about," I told John who looked at me disapprovingly as he packed up his medical bag. "I'll be careful," I assured John, patting his hand before I got up and picked up my viola, balancing it on my left shoulder as I tuned it before drawing the bow of the string. Happy with the result I started playing with Sherlock as his song morphed into Ode to Joy. I played a bit with Sherlock, relaxing as I drew my bow over the strings before heading off to bed. John said he would check in on me during the night just in case and I thanked him before I went back to my room and changed into a tank top and shorts before crawling into bed. I fell asleep and woke up some time in the middle of the night to see a curly head above me.

"Go back to sleep," Sherlock told me as I blinked up at him sleepily. I closed my eyes again and curled up with my pillow as I felt his fingers run through my hair. I sighed in contentment and snuggled down into my sheets.

"Night Lock," I mumbled as I slowly fell back to sleep. I felt the ghost of lips on the top of my head before my door closed with a click.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock woke up with a groan and he rolled over onto his side as he pulled his pillow over his face. He had been such an idiot the night before. He had gotten sentimental and had gotten too close to Lexi. It had almost given the whole thing away. Then he was impulsive when he kissed her head after going in to check on her. He growled and sat up, punching his pillow angrily. She was making him care. Caring wasn't an advantage, but he didn't know how to stop himself from caring. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to stop caring. Knowing he couldn't hide in his room to escape her all day Sherlock rose and dressed quickly before slipping into the hall. Lexi's bedroom door was open and the shower was running in the bathroom. He had a little bit of time before he had to see her. He paused suddenly when he thought back to the night before when he was looking down at her before she had stepped away from him, putting more space between them. Her pupils had been blown wide and there had also been a slight flush on her cheeks and neck, hardly noticeable, but still present. Sherlock blinked slowly in shock over this new development. Perhaps… no. Then again…he needed more data to confirm this. He walked out to the kitchen where John was eating toast and he flicked on the kettle, pulling down a mug from the cupboard. He found himself popping bread into the toaster and turning it to the lowest setting. Lexi liked very lightly toasted toast, a fact he had stored away in his Mind Palace along with how she took her tea and coffee. He buttered and smeared jam over the toast, strawberry Lexi's favourite, ignoring when John looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. He heard Lexi pad into the kitchen and turned, handing her her tea and plate of toast. She smiled and thanked him before sitting at the side table with John and eating her breakfast.

Sherlock looked her over, indulging himself for a brief moment. She was wearing jeans and a green lacy top that brought out the colour of her eyes. Her hair was curled slightly more than normal and she only had a head band in it to push some of her hair back. She looked slightly better, less pale then the day before. In fact she looked good, happy even. She was still wearing her locket only this time she wasn't hiding it. Her arms were also fully exposed, her skin pale and creamy like always and only marred slightly by the occasional cut. He noticed now that she had several scars on her arms, all of them old and mostly superficial though one or two looked to be a bit deeper. They were obviously old injuries from other cases and one was her new pink scar from her more recent sword injury. He looked over her tattoo, realizing how much they made her unique and smiling slightly out of fondness at her before he cursed himself and forced himself to look away from her.

After Lexi and John finished eating Sherlock hurried them over to the door. Sherlock helped Lexi slide into her coat and put her scarf on and she laughed and looked up at him through her lashes and he felt his heart clench. Her laugh was beautiful, like bells. The monster inside him wanted her to only laugh for him. The monster inside him roared in triumph when she fixed his coat collar and grabbed his hand in hers as they headed off down the stairs together. They sat next to each other in the cab, Sherlock sitting in the middle so he could hoard Lexi away from John. It wasn't that he didn't like them spending time with one another, they were friends, but the monster wanted to have Lexi all to himself. They made it to Scotland Yard and Sherlock held Lexi's hand in his all the way up to Lestrade's office, delighting when Donovan looked over at him with a shocked expression before she started whispering to Anderson. For once, he didn't care what they were saying about him. Lexi glared at them as she caught sight of them, but that only made her press closer to him subconsciously. Sherlock only broke away from the Irish girl once they enter Lestrade's office. He went and stood at the window with his hands raised in front of his mouth and his fingers tapping together as John sat opposite Lestrade at his desk. Lexi opted to sit on Lestrade's actual desk, a habit that Sherlock was starting to notice. Her disregard for furniture must drive Mycroft mad.

"She lives in Cornwall. Two men broke in wearing masks, forced her to drive to the car park and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house," Lestrade told them as he looked up at Sherlock who walked over to the desk and stood beside Lexi.

"Odd," Lexi said aloud and Lestrade raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"What is?" He asked her and Lexi looked up at Sherlock and shrugged.

"He always has someone to do the work for him. The bomber is never the one to directly do anything," Lexi explained at Lestrade nodded before he continued.

"Yeah, well he told her to phone you two. She had to read out from this pager," Lestrade told them as he put the pager onto the desk in front of John, who picked it up to look at it as Lexi leaned towards him slightly to get a look as well.

"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off," Sherlock commented as Lexi looked back at him and nodded slightly.

"Or if you two hadn't solved the case," John pointed out as Sherlock walked back to the window.

"Oh. Elegant," Sherlock said quietly to himself.

"Very elegant. They left no room for deviation from the plan," Lexi remarked and Sherlock looked over at her and they shared a brief look as John raised his head and sighed in exasperation.

""Elegant"?" John asked the two of them. Sherlock looked to Lexi who shrugged slightly as Lestrade ignored John's question

"Aye. Mental. Psychotic, but elegant," Lexi told the army doctor before Lestrade took over again.

"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?" Lestrade asked the two detectives.

"Oh – I can't be the only person in the world that gets bored," Sherlock said as he flashed back in his mind to shooting the walls with Lexi a couple of days ago.

"This isn't just about boredom though. They want to show us what they can do, just how far their reach extends. If this was about boredom it would be far simpler. No, as you said, this is elegant. All of this has been carefully planned, probably for months. He's left no room for error. Which means this is more than just a way to relieve boredom," Lexi commented as the pink phone suddenly beeped a message alert. John turned round to him as he activated the phone, Lexi jumping off the desk and walking over to stand by Sherlock's side.

"You have one new message," The voice mail said as Sherlock and Lexi walked towards Lestrade's desk together. The phone sounded the Greenwich pips again, this time three short pips and one long one. Sherlock noticed Lexi frown thoughtfully for a second.

"Four pips," John remarked, breaking the silence.

"First test passed, it would seem. Here's the second," Sherlock told the army doctor as he showed the new photograph to the others. It was a close-up of a car with its driver's door open and the number plate clearly visible. John and Lestrade got up to take a closer look as Lexi leaned over his shoulder. A phone in the main office started ringing as Sherlock showed Lexi the picture closer. "It's abandoned, wouldn't you say?" Sherlock asked the girl who was still frowning.

"Maybe, or maybe it's supposed to look that way," Lexi answered him and Sherlock raised his eyebrow slightly at that as Lexi looked up at him. Supposed to look that way? Ah, she thought the car was set up to be abandoned or to look like it had been.

"I'll see if it's been reported," Lestrade told them as he picked up his phone. Suddenly Sergeant Donovan came to the office door holding another phone.

"Freaks, it's for you," Donovan told them with a sneer. Lexi frowned up at Sherlock before they both walked over to the door together. Sherlock took the phone from her and John sat down again behind them as Sherlock walked out into the general office with Lexi and raised the phone to his ear. Lexi pressed close to him so she could hear the conversation as well.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"It's okay that you've gone to the police," The frightened voice of a young man answered over the phone.

"Who is this?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

"This is this you again isn't it?" She asked the boy and Sherlock felt slightly proud of her. Since she had told them what was bothering her about the bomber she seemed slightly more at ease. The fact that she was willing to speak up when talking with him was proof that she wasn't letting him get to her like he apparently wanted to. Sherlock wasn't worried about the nickname. Most likely the nickname was less a secret than she thought and the bomber took the time to find something out about her that he knew would get under her skin.

"But don't rely on them," The young man continued, ignoring their questions. "Clever you two, guessing about Carl Powers. I never liked him," The boy said haltingly, reading off a pager again most likely. Sherlock looked round sharply at Lexi at this. "Carl laughed at me, so I stopped him laughing," The boy continued as John came out of the office and walked closer to the two detectives, looking at them in concern.

"And you've stolen another voice, I presume," Sherlock said, ignoring John for now.

"This is about you two and me," The boy said as the sound of a bus came through the phone. Lexi's eyes widened slightly in shock at that clue to his location.

"If this is between us then who are you? You seem to know more about me than we do about you," Lexi asked as more traffic went past.

"What's that noise?" Sherlock asked the boy as Lexi looked up at him and Sherlock her head angrily.

"The sounds of life, Sherlock," The boy responded and Lexi and looked up and then back down, taking a deep breath. "But don't worry ... I can soon fix that. Be patient beautiful bird," The boy said, crying briefly before he managed to get control of his emotions. "You solved my last puzzle in nine hours. This time you have eight," The boy said before the phone went dead.

"Okay ... Great," Lestrade said into his phone in his office as Lexi and Sherlock stared at each other. She looked angry instead of scared at the use of the nickname now. Sherlock wasn't sure if that was better or worse. "We've found it," Lestrade told them as he came to the door of his office to tell them. Lexi nodded at Sherlock before they both turned and followed Lestrade, Sherlock's hand firmly place on Lexi's lower back.

**John's POV**

The three of them arrived with Lestrade at the crime scene, John watching as Sherlock helped Lexi out from the back of the cab. John was certain now that there was something going on between Lexi and Sherlock, but he couldn't be sure what it was exactly. The only thing he could say for certain was that they were certainly more than just friends. John followed the two detectives under the police tape and into the crime scene which was close to the river. The police had tape off the large open space where the car was found and forensic officers in protective clothing were working on the car as Lestrade led Sherlock and Lexi towards it. John followed behind them with Sally Donovan, a woman John didn't particularly like but was at least civil towards. She was still a police officer after all. What she had done to Lexi was inexcusable however. John was sure Lexi deserved to be sainted for her ability to even still talk somewhat civilly to the woman.

"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford. Banker of some kind; City boy. Paid in cash," Lestrade told them after consulting his notes. Sherlock looked closely as they passed a woman talking with a female police officer before he looked at Lexi who nodded. John sighed in exasperation. Could they not just talk aloud like normal people? "Told his wife he was going away on a business trip, but he never arrived," Lestrade continued as Sherlock, Lexi and Lestrade reached the passenger door of the car. Donovan suddenly turned to him, stopping him from following the two detectives.

"You're still hanging round them," Donovan said and John took a deep breath, not liking where this conversation was going already.

"Yeah, well...," John told her before she cut him off. As far as John was concerned it was none of her business what he did.

"Opposites attract, I suppose," Donovan said and John froze. Was she implying the he and Sherlock were together or he and Lexi? God he didn't want to think about either. Sherlock was just…no and Lexi, Lexi was like his sister.

"No, we're not...," John spluttered before Donovan cut off his response once again, pissing John off for a second time.

"You should get yourself a hobby – stamps, maybe. Model trains. Safer," Donovan told him before she walked away from the army doctor and went to stand beside Lestrade as Sherlock leaned into the car. Lexi was already poking around the back seat of the car and in fact was mostly inside of it. John stood back for a second and silently giggled to himself as he watched the Irish detective route around in the back of the car, one of her legs held out in the air as she balance on one foot, bending into the car. John walked closer to see that Sherlock was looking at the large amount of blood which was smeared over the island between the two front seats. The consulting detective reached forward and opened the glove box as Lexi finally extracted herself from the car and leaned her arms against the top of the back door she had propped open.

"Before you ask, yes, it's Monkford's blood. The DNA checks out," Lestrade told them as John watched Sherlock take something out of the glove box before he closed the lid and straightened up.

"No body," Sherlock commented and John looked around realizing he was right. For such a large amount of blood, you would expect to find a body. Lexi didn't seem surprised that there wasn't one, nor did Sherlock.

"Not yet," Donovan remarked and Lexi sighed heavily, drawing everyone's attention to her.

"Of course there isn't a body. That would be too easy for us," Lexi remarked with a snort making Sherlock smirk slightly at her before he turned to Lestrade.

"Get a sample sent to the lab," Sherlock told Lestrade who nodded at him before Sherlock and Lexi walked away from the car together. John watched as Lestrade turned to Donovan and looked pointedly at her. She stared back at him indignantly but he held the look and she grunted in exasperation and stomped away. John followed after the consulting detectives as they walked over to the woman who was talking with the police officer.

"Mrs. Monkford?" Sherlock asked the woman who turned to him tearfully.

"Yes," The woman answered as she looked at him, Lexi, and John before she sighed. "Sorry, but I've already spoken with two policemen," She apologized and Lexi nodded understandingly.

"No, we're not from the police; we're...," John began before Sherlock cut him off. He held his hand out to her his voice tearful and tremulous in a split second. It was then that John noticed that Lexi's eyes looked to be glistening with unshed tears.

"Sherlock Holmes. Very old friend of your husband's. We, um...," Sherlock said as Mrs. Monkford shook his hand. Sherlock looked down as if he was fighting back tears and Lexi moved to put her arm around his waist. "...we grew up together," Sherlock finished as he held Lexi closely to him. John watched them in confusion, especially as he saw a tear slip down Lexi's cheek. What the bloody hell were they doing?

"I'm sorry, who? I don't think he ever mentioned you," Mrs. Monkford said still tearfully, though she was a lot calmer than before.

"Oh, he must have done. This is ... this is horrible, isn't it?" Sherlock said still sounding tearful. John looked away from them trying somewhat unsuccessfully to keep his face neutral. He didn't know what was worse, Sherlock's acting like he knew the woman or Lexi's fake tears. "I mean, I just can't believe it. I was telling my wife," Sherlock said as he gestured to Lexi who he still was holding closely to him. "I was telling Alex, I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian – not a care in the world," Sherlock told her, smiling tearfully at her as Lexi nodded beside him. Wife? They had played that they were in a relationship together before. Lexi didn't even blink or pause as if she was already suspecting this. Of course John thought with a slightly exasperated snort, they're silent conversation earlier. Sherlock was sharing his plan to talk with Mrs. Monkford after they examined the car and Lexi had agreed to this role.

"Sorry, but my husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?" Mrs. Monkford demanded as she looked between Sherlock and Lexi.

"Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked her ignoring the question. By now he had tears running down his cheeks as did Lexi and John fought to keep a straight face as he watched the two of them. He did not agree with them lying to the possibly dead man's wife.

"No, it isn't. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all," Mrs. Monkford told them and Sherlock nodded animatedly.

"Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!" Sherlock said with a slight laugh in his voice as Lexi brought her free hand up and wiped under her eyes.

"No it wasn't," Mrs. Monkford said irritably and instantly Sherlock and Lexi's fake personas dropped and Lexi took a step away from Sherlock, all evidence of her tears gone. Both detectives looked at Mrs. Monkford intensely as John bit back his shock at how quickly they could go from looking upset to being completely fine. He had nearly believed their tears himself.

"Wasn't it? Interesting," Sherlock said, looking to Lexi who nodded.

"Very interesting," Lexi commented before she and Sherlock turned and walked way. Mrs. Monkford glared after them as John hurried to follow after the two detectives as they headed for the police tape.

"Who was I talking to?" John overheard Mrs. Monkford ask someone behind them as Sherlock held up the police tape and let Lexi duck under it.

"Why did you lie to her?" John asked them as he and Sherlock ducked under the tape and joined her on the other side of the tape. Sherlock took his gloves off to wipe the tears from under his eyes as Lexi did the same thing.

"People don't like telling you things, but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?" Sherlock asked the two of them and Lexi nodded animatedly.

"Of course. It was hard not to notice it," Lexi told Sherlock with a grin and John looked between the two of them in confusion.

"Sorry, what?" John asked them, not sure what they were talking about. When had she contradicted him?

"I referred to her husband in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature – they've only just found the car," Sherlock told the army doctor as the detective took Lexi's hand in his as they walked.

"You think she murdered her husband?" John asked them, still feeling confused.

"No," Lexi commented and Sherlock nodded in confirmation.

"Definitely not," He agreed with her before continuing. "That's not a mistake a murderer would make."

"I see. No, I don't. What am I seeing?" John asked them shaking his head slightly. As they walked past Donovan she turned and called out to him, getting his attention.

"Fishing! Try fishing!" She shouted and John turned round and gave her an exasperated nod before he followed after Sherlock and Lexi again who both were grinning slightly.

"Normally a murderer wouldn't make the mistake of referring to the person they killed in the past tense so quickly. That's why we know she didn't kill her husband. Bit premature her joining in with Sherlock though and hardly any tears from her. It's suspicious yes, but she didn't murder her husband. She is involved in this in some capacity however," Lexi explained to John who nodded, understanding her slightly. She was basing her theory off of the fact that she had referred to her husband in the past tense. It sounded rather slap dash to him.

"Where now?" John asked the two detectives as John watched Lexi. It looked like she knew something else, but wasn't saying.

"Janus Cars," Sherlock answered him as he handed a business card off to John which the army doctor realized was the thing Sherlock must have taken from the glove box. "Just found this in the glove compartment," The consulting detective told him as Lexi looked down at her watch. Realizing the significance of the gesture John checked his own. Six hours to go


	49. Not So Friendly

**A/N**

**Hello sweeties! So I am posting this a few hours early, technically it is almost Tuesday where I am, because I have a huge paper I have to work on tomorrow so I want to make sure that this gets up on time. I'm doing great. Waiting on my MRI still but my chronic headache meds are actually working. Wow, finally some relief. Pretty good day. Slight car accident. Girl was texting while driving and bumped our car while my sister was driving. It was entirely her fault and my sister was in the right, and driving perfectly I might add. We're both alright and the car didn't even get a scratch or a dent. She's TARDIS blue and we call her Sexy. She's our tough dependable Sexy. Please guys, don't text and drive!**

**I'm starting, by request, a vlog/ question series on Tumbler so send your questions in through your review or through my Tumbler page to have them answered. They can be on anything. Lot's of love to you all, thanks so much for all of your reviews on the last chapter. Allons-y!**

**And HOLY MOTHER OF BAKER STREET!? MYCROFT'S CAKE! SHERLOCK'S SHEET, SON OF JOHN'S SWEATERS! Have we really hit 300 followers?! THANK YOU! You are BRILLIANT!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty- Seven- Not So Friendly<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

One cab ride later and the three of us found ourselves at Janus cars. We had just under six hours to go to solve this case. I was no longer going to let the bomber get to me. In fact I was angrier now that upset over it. He was trying to throw me off my game and make me upset and I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. I was already forming a few theories about this case. Some things weren't adding up properly. One was Mrs. Monkford. She didn't seem as upset as you would think a woman would be if she truly just lost her husband. Sure she cried a little bit, but then again so had I. Next was the blood in the car. There was something off about that too and Sherlock had noticed it as well. Last was Janus Cars itself. I needed more data though before I could come to any conclusions. We were lead into the office of the owner of the car hire company as soon as we arrived and let the woman at the front desk know that we were here on a police inquiry. We had the wonderful task of telling the owner of Janus Cars, a Mr. Ewert, that Mr. Monkford was dead. Sherlock and I watched his reaction to this news closely. He seemed genuinely shocked, but I wasn't buying it. John sat down on the other side of the desk to the owner as I took up residence on the corner of the desk as I had in Lestrade's office. This earned me several odd looks which I of course ignored. John took notes while I watched Sherlock who was looking out into the forecourt.

"Can't see how I can help you gentlemen," Mr. Ewert said before looking at me. "And lady," He added with a wink and a little smirk and I fought against rolling my eyes. Why was it that every man decided to try and flirt with me? It irritated me to no end.

"Mr. Monkford hired the car from you yesterday," John said, looking up from his notebook as Sherlock looked back at me and raised his eyebrow slightly before his gaze flicked over to Ewert. I snorted slightly and he smirked at my irritation.

"Yeah. Lovely motor. Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself!" Ewert told us as Sherlock walked over to the other side of the desk so he was standing behind Ewert. He pointed into the forecourt before winking at me covertly

"Is that one?" Sherlock asked Ewert who turned his head to look. Sherlock and I immediately looked closely at the side of the man's neck and I raised an eyebrow. He was tanned, but not under his clothes. He had recently been out of the country and in a sunnier climate. There was no way he could have gotten a tan like that here. It was spring now, but it was still overcast and rainy most days.

"No, they're all Jags. Yeah, I can see you're not a car man, eh?" Ewert said as Sherlock straightened up as Ewert looked round and John and I and smiled. Sherlock gave me a look and then looked at Ewert and I sighed before plastering on a fake smile, knowing what he wanted me to do.

"But surely you can afford one – a Mazda, I mean?" I flirted with Ewert and I saw John sit up slightly in his chair, throwing me a questioning look as my tone changed and I sat up, looking to anyone who didn't know me better like I was actively flirting with the man.

"Yeah, it's a fair point. But you know how it is, it's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the liquorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" Ewert flirted back, smiling at me suggestively. I fought not to gag as he started scratching near the top of his left arm with his right hand. Sherlock and I looked at him for a moment, studying him, then Sherlock turned away and headed around the room towards the other side of the desk, stopping beside me.

_'Ugh, I'm never doing that again,'_ I told Sherlock with a look of disgust and I caught his slight smirk.

_'You keep saying that, but you keep doing it,'_ Sherlock told me, still smirking at me and I glared at him.

_'Shut up,'_ I told him, looking away from the consulting detective who was still smirking, the smug bastard.

"But you didn't know Mr. Monkford?" John asked Ewert, changing the subject, having noticed my exchange with Sherlock.

"No, he was just a client. Came in here and hired one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod," Ewert told us and I looked back at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow at him. He was lying, evident by the way he spoke. Why would he need to lie to us though? Sherlock looked across the desk at Ewert after giving me a look.

"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewert?" Sherlock asked the man as I sat up, ready to help him like always.

"Eh?" Ewert asked him and I gestured to him, pointing out his tan.

"Well, you have been away, haven't you?" I asked Ewert, all serious now and no smiling and flirting.

"Oh, the-the...," Ewert stammered as he gestured towards his tanned face. "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it, though – bit of sun," Ewert said and I raised my eyebrow slightly at that. First it was a bad lie and secondly a married man flirting with a woman was one of the worst offences in my books.

"Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?" Sherlock asked Ewert suddenly and I grinned slightly, knowing where he was taking this. I happened to know that Sherlock was doing well lately. That was partially because of me. I was making sure he stopped smoking. If he felt the need or want to smoke he talked to me and I kept him busy until the feeling passed.

"What?" Ewert asked Sherlock in confusion as John also eyed him oddly.

"Well, I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change," Sherlock said as he offered Ewert a bank note. "I'm gasping," He added before covertly smirking at me and I shook my head slightly st his acting.

"Um, well...," Ewert said as he reached into his trouser pocket and took out his wallet. "Hmm," The man hummed as he opened his wallet and looked inside. "No, sorry," Ewert told him as I grinned, having gotten a look into Ewert's wallet too. It was the perfect ploy, I would give him that.

"Oh well. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Ewert," Sherlock told the man as he helped me jump off of the desk. We both turned and headed for the door, Sherlock's hand it mine which made Ewert's eyebrows raise in slight surprise. "You've been very helpful. Come on, John," Sherlock told the army doctor. We left the office, John following after is as Sherlock and I shot messages back to one another. I frowned and shook my head in reference to what he had just told me as we headed back across the forecourt.

"I-I've got change if you still want to, uh…," John said before Sherlock patted his upper left arm.

"Nicotine patches, remember? I'm doing well," Sherlock told John before he could finish and I grinned up at the consulting detective, squeezing his hand slightly.

"Yes you are," I told him proudly and he grinned slightly down at me.

"So what was that all about?" John asked us in confusion.

"We needed to look inside his wallet," Sherlock told John and I nodded in agreement.

"Why?" John asked us and I looked up at Sherlock and he answered John.

"Mr. Ewert's a liar," Sherlock told him with a slight smirk before we shared a look. Now that we knew Ewert was lying, we only had to figure out what he was lying about and I was starting to get a very good idea about what that was.

The three of us took a cab down to St. Bart's where Lestrade had sent over a sample of Mr. Monkford's blood for us. Sherlock and I went down to the lab while John opted to head to the cafeteria as he claimed it would probably be a while before we allowed him to stop for more than a minute again. Sherlock and I found the lab to be empty which was perfect as we were able to work in silence. We worked around each other as Sherlock and I each set out petri dishes and test tubes. He was running one test on the blood while I ran another. He had a large drop of blood in a shallow glass dish and I watched him as I squeezed a few drops of blood into a test tube filled with a chemical solution. He put his dish down on the desk and reached into a small bag of equipment before he opened a bottle and siphoned out some liquid with a small dropper. He bent down to the dish and squeezed out a drop of liquid onto the blood which started to fizz just as the blood in my test tube reacted with the chemicals and change the colour of the solution to a deep rust colour. As Sherlock straightened up and looked over at me, sharing a look of triumph with me, the pink phone rang. The Caller I.D. read "BLOCKED" again which meant it was our bomber. He picked up the phone and answered it, putting it on speaker so I could also hear the conversation since I was standing on the opposite side of the table from him.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked as he looked up at me and I nodded at him.

"The clue's in the name. Janus Cars," The boy read off tearfully and I frowned, raising one eyebrow.

"Why would you be giving us a clue?" I asked as I shook my head. That didn't make sense. Why would he want us to solve his case?

"Why does anyone do anything? Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock, Lexi," The boy read of and I screwed my face up in disgust. We were by no means made for each other. He was wrong too, this wasn't just about boredom. This was a game.

"Then talk to us in your own voice," Sherlock said softly and we shared a look. I shook my head slightly, knowing that wasn't going to happen.

"Patience," The boy told us tearfully before the line went dead. Sherlock lowered the phone and looked up at me thoughtfully.

"It's in the name?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded before sighing as I set town my test tube in a rack and then braced my hands on the desk, leaning on it.

"The god with two face," I supplied and Sherlock nodded before he looked down at the fizzing liquid in the dish. He picked it up and looked at it more closely before he began to smile. I looked down at my own test tube and then ran a hand through my hair. Three hours to go.

**John's POV**

John met up with the two consulting detectives after finishing his hospital food and bad coffee and they informed him that they needed to meet back up with Lestrade again which meant more running around. They hadn't even stopped for more than a few minutes since they had started working this case. He wasn't even sure if Lexi had eaten more than toast in a few hours and he was sure that Sherlock hadn't eaten anything for much longer than her. Another cab ride later and the three of them arrived at the police car pound where Lestrade said he would meet them since they apparently needed to take another look at Mr. Monkford's car. Something told John they had figured out the case. Sherlock, John, Lexi, and Lestrade stood around Monkford's car as Lexi ducked back inside it and poked around again before joining them.

"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as Lexi played with the sleeves of her coat.

"How much? About a pint," Lestrade told them and Lexi nodded before grinning widely as if she was expecting this answer.

"Not 'about'. Exactly a pint," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted, drawing Lestrade's attention to her.

"That was their first mistake. Bit of a stupid slip up on their part. No one loses exactly a pint of blood," Lexi remarked and Sherlock nodded, agreeing with her as John frowned in confusion.

"The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's but it's been frozen," Sherlock continued and it was Lestrade's turn to look at the detectives in confusion.

"Frozen?" Lestrade asked them as John watched the two detectives, not at all shocked now. Now that he had worked with them long enough he had gotten over a lot of the shock over the fact that they often knew what seemed impossible for them to know. Every so often they did something that still surprised him, but he was getting more used to the way they worked now.

"There are clear signs that Lexi was able to confirm with a simple test. I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats," Sherlock told the D.I. as John frowned at that information.

"Who did?" John asked the detective, not understanding him.

"Janus Cars. The clue's in the name," Sherlock told the army doctor as Lexi nodded and sighed a little bit.

"They could have been less obvious," She said and Sherlock smirked slightly.

"The god with two faces," John said, catching on to what she meant.

"Exactly. Two faces and the company has two businesses. On the outside they are a car company, but they provide far more illegal services as well," Lexi said and John hummed in understanding before Sherlock took over explaining what they had figured out to Lestrade.

"As Lexi said, they provide a very special service. If you've got any kind of a problem – money troubles, bad marriage, whatever – Janus Cars will help you disappear. Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble – financial, at a guess; he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat...," Sherlock said before he trailed off, sharing a look with Lexi who shrugged again with a slight grin on her face.

"So where is he?" John asked Sherlock as the consulting detective closed the car door which Lexi had opened.

"Columbia," Sherlock answered him at which point Lestrade's eyebrows shot up to his forehead.

"Columbia?!" Lestrade exclaimed in surprise and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Columbian peso note in his wallet...," Lexi told the D.I. before she gestured to Sherlock who finished the explanation.

"...Quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly," Sherlock told them and John realized that that was the entire reason why they had asked about if he had been on holiday recently. "No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That, plus his arm," Sherlock continued and Lestrade sighed in exasperation.

"His arm?" Lestrade asked Sherlock tiredly.

"He kept scratching it. It was obviously irritating him, and bleeding," Lexi said and John frowned at that. He was about to ask her what she meant when Sherlock started explaining it any way.

"Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that distance," Sherlock said before Lexi cut in again. John waited for Sherlock to cut her off and make a rude comment about her interrupting him, but he said nothing and let her continue.

"Most likely as he was going abroad," Lexi told him and he nodded in agreement as Lestrade and John both shared a look. If it had been anyone other than Lexi they would have been told they were bring an idiot or some other insult, but all he did was nod at her.

"Conclusion, he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars," Sherlock finished as Lexi grinned triumphantly at the consulting detective, sharing a look with him.

"M-Mrs Monkford?" John stammered, not sure if he had heard Sherlock right.

"Oh yes. She's in on it too," Sherlock told them and Lestrade lowered his head with a look of amazement on his face.

"Remember her slip up before. That's what gave her away. I told you she had something to do with this. No doubt she's meant to join her husband there shortly," Lexi told them and Sherlock looked over at her, his gaze softened but the expression was gone before Lexi looked up at him with a smile.

"Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best," Sherlock told Lestrade before he turned to John. "We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved," Sherlock said and Lexi laughed.

"Technically not so friendly," Lexi pointed out to him and Sherlock looked down at her and shrugged slightly before he turned and led John and Lexi away. Sherlock clenched his fists triumphantly at his sides as he walked.

"I am on fire!" Sherlock exclaimed and John eyed him wearily as Lexi looked over at him and snorted.

"Glad to know how you feel about teamwork there Sher," Lexi told him with a grin and Sherlock glared at her as they walked out and hailed a cab back to Baker Street. Lexi slid into the back of the cab first and then Sherlock after her. That was something else John had noticed. Lexi always used to sit in the middle of the cab and now she sat by the door, tucked up into Sherlock's side. John didn't care what they tried to say. There was definitely something going on between the two detectives.

**Lexi's POV**

I was rather happy when we got back to the flat even if it was cold as the windows were still broken and boarded up. The heating was shoty at best and most of the times the flat was a bit cold which was why I stole Sherlock's warm, thick socks. I immediately headed back to my room after taking off my coat and scarf and hanging them behind the door and changed into a pair of thick sweatpants, Sherlock's socks, and a thick wool jumper that I found in the back of my closet. It was something I had bought that was oversized and more for comfort than for looks. I padded out into the kitchen to make some tea, shuffling over to where Sherlock and John were sitting at the living room table in their coats still. I stood behind Sherlock as he typed a new message onto his forum on The Science of Deduction.

**Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia.**

He sent the message and then we waited for what we knew would come next. A few seconds later another 'blocked' phone call came in on the pink phone lying on the table beside the computer. Sherlock switched the phone on and I could hear the young man crying already.

"He says you can come and fetch me. Help. Help me, please," The boy said and Sherlock handed me over the phone as he pulled out his own mobile so he could call Lestrade. Like I had the first time, I sat and talked with the boy on the phone as Sherlock talked to Lestrade. At some point after I sat down in Sherlock's chair John brought me a mug of tea and I mouthed my thanks up to him as I kept the boy talking until Lestrade's men came to get him. I sighed heavily when I was finally able to hang up and then I groaned and put my face in my hands.

"Lexi?" I heard someone say and I looked up to find Sherlock looking at me in concern.

"I'm alright. It's just hard to talk to them," I told Sherlock who nodded slightly. I stretched and got up, patting Sherlock on the arm as I moved into the kitchen, bringing my tea mug with me. John had disappeared to go pick up some takeaway, leaving the flat to Sherlock and I. I returned to the living room and rolled my eyes when I saw that Sherlock had used my absence to take over his chair. I shuffled over to John's chair and pulled the blanket off of it, wrapping it around myself before I sat down, my feet near Sherlock's. He had adopted his prayer pose and he looked up at me as I sat down across from him. "What?" I asked him, raising one eyebrow and he ignored me as he closed his eyes. I shook my head at him before I picked up the remote and turned on the telly. I watched some crappy programs as I waited for John to come back with the food.

It didn't take too long before he came trudging back up the stairs. "Don't mind me. I've got it," John said sarcastically as I pulled my eyes away from the telly and threw a smile over my shoulder as John moved into the kitchen and started unloading the bag.

"Well, I was going to help you, but now that you've told me you don't need my help, I'll just sit here," I told John with a smirk and Sherlock opened one eye lazily to stare at me. I giggled, knowing that John was probably glaring at the back of his chair, before getting up and bouncing into the kitchen to help him.

I pulled some plates out of the cupboard and handed them off to John before helping him dish out the food onto the three plates. He had opted for Thai tonight. I grinned and picked up a spring roll, taking a big bite of it as John watched me before shaking his head. I took Sherlock and my plate of fried rice and curry back to the living room and handed him his plate before I perched on the arm of his chair since John had come to join us and had taken back his chair. Sherlock looked up at me and then down at his food as I continued to munch on my spring roll. I hadn't noticed just how hungry I actually was until then. Granted the only thing I had eaten all day was the toast Sherlock had made for me, but normally I wasn't hungry when working cases. I poked Sherlock and looked at him pointedly, giggling when he glared at me before I dug into my curry, ignoring the smile John sent my way. I ate my food happily, laughing when John made jokes and giggling when I looked down at Sherlock as he looked up at me from under his curls questioningly. As bad as everything seemed right now with the bomber, I was actually happy. John took our plates back to the kitchen when we were done and packed the leftover food back into the fridge before he joined me on the couch to watch some Doctor Who. I curled up into his side as it was cold in the flat and tucked the blanket around the both of us. He draped his arm lazily over my shoulders and I breathed out a sigh as I watched the Doctor on his adventures. After a while John decided to go to bed first and I grabbed my laptop and put in under my arm before telling Sherlock that I was going to head to bed too. He looked up from his laptop which he had been working on for a while and acknowledge me with a hum before I left him and padded back to my room.

I sat up on my bed for a while, not exactly feeling tired. I instead did something that I swore I would never do and that was look through all my old files which included old pictures. I opened the file of pictures I had taken at my birthday just before I left Ireland. There were pictures of Alistair and me together and of Mary and me messing around on the beach. Mary was from England, but she had gone to Uni with me in Scotland before moving to Dublin with me so we could stay together. Alistair was the reason behind why I could act so well. He was an actor himself and taught me everything I might need to know to use in my consulting business. I flicked through more of the pictures before landing one I had taken in a pub with a group of detectives I had become friends with while consulting in Dublin. In the background of the photograph was a man at the bar. His back was to the camera, but he looked sort of familiar. I shook my head and kept flipping through the pictures before switching to a new album. I laughed when I brought up the picture of Mycroft and me on my last birthday, just before I met Sherlock and John. I had gotten Mycroft to wear a party hat for all of five seconds and he had promptly taken it off after I snapped a picture of the two of us. I was grinning, but he looked severely unamused. There was also a picture of Lestrade and I in this album that I realized was the two of us at my first crime scene with Scotland Yard. I had sent that picture to Mary as a joke. Lestrade looked like he was ready to kill me in the picture and I spied Anderson and Donovan in the background. I shook my head and closed the lid of my laptop before I brought my legs up to my chest. I needed to start taking more pictures of the three of us together. I used to always take pictures of everything, might as well take some pictures of my boys.

I got up and shuffled over to the door of my room, hesitating before I opened my door and stepped out into the hallway. I walked through to the kitchen and leaned so I could see into the living room. Sherlock was no long in his chair so I turned back and walked down the hall to the door to his bedroom. I knocked on it lightly and waited until I heard a hummed response before I slowly opened the door and stepped inside his room. Sherlock was sitting propped up on his pillows wearing a pair of sweatpants and a cotton shirt now as he read a book. He lowered it as I walked in, standing awkwardly in the doorway. I wasn't sure what I wanted of him exactly, but I just didn't feel like being alone right now. I shuffled a little further into Sherlock's room and closed his door behind me before I padded over to the end of his bed and waited, staring at him.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked me quietly, raising one of his eyebrows as he dog eared his page and set his book down on his night table.

"Mind a bit of company?" I asked Sherlock, biting my lip nervously as I looked down at him. He quirked one eyebrow as he stared back at me before he gestured to the side of his bed which was open. I crawled onto his bed and shifted until my hip was pressed up against his before I turned and laid down, putting my head on his chest.

"Comfortable?" Sherlock asked me, his tone light, as he held up his arms and looked down at me as I squirmed and I giggled.

"Almost," I told him before squirming a bit more for good measure before settling down and looking up at him with a laugh. Sherlock reached down suddenly and pulled my headband out of my hair before he set it down on top of his book. He lowered his hands, wrapping one around my waist as he set the other one down in his lap before he titled his head back and closed his eyes. "Have you considered that the bomber is playing games with us?" I asked Sherlock as I closed my eyes and breathed in his calming scent.

"Obviously," Sherlock said and I could just hear the smirk in his voice. I smacked his chest lightly and turned slightly to look up at him. "Of course he is playing games with us. He bothered to find out something about you," Sherlock said and I snorted, not bothering to comment about how he had said that.

"I have a feeling that this is not going to end well," I told Sherlock, biting my lip again and he shifted slightly so he could look down at me.

"What makes you say that?" Sherlock asked me, his voice rumbling low in his chest.

"I just have a bad feeling about this," I told Sherlock sighing heavily. "Say what you like, but just call it a hunch. This isn't going to end well for us," I warned Sherlock and he sighed heavily before he started playing with my hair with his free hand, the thumb on his other hand rubbing gentle circles on my hip bone. I relaxed into his chest and closed my eyes, breathing evenly. Sherlock started humming tune I hadn't heard before and I felt my eyes droop as I laid on Sherlock's chest. Before I knew it I fell asleep in the arms of the consulting detective. I woke up alone and I sat upright blinking as I got over the disorientation. I realized I was in Sherlock's room and I groaned before lying back and snuggling into his pillows which smelt like him.

I rolled over and huffed before sitting up again as my foot hit something at the bottom of the bed. That something was a pile of clothes and I shook my head before getting up and pulling on the clothes which Sherlock had laid out for me. He had chosen a pair of dark wash jeans and a bright yellow blouse. I bundled up the clothes I had worn the night before and walked across the cold floor in my sock clad feet, opening the door to Sherlock's room and shuffling out into the hallway. I threw my clothes into my basket on my way to the bathroom. I quickly brushed my hair and teeth and made sure to put deodorant on before I braided my hair quickly and slipped back out into the hall. I walked through the kitchen to the living room where Sherlock was sitting in his chair on his laptop, fully clothed. John was sitting in his own chair and he looked up as I entered the living room as if he had been waiting for me. Sherlock looked up as I stopped behind John's chair and he closed his laptop before getting up.

"Ah good, you're up," Sherlock said as he put his laptop down on the coffee table before he gestured for me to join him over by the door. He let me lean on him as I pulled my boots on before he helped bundle me into my jacket and scarf. John got up and joined us by the door as Sherlock and him pulled on their jackets.

"Where are we going?" I asked Sherlock as he handed me my case bag and I slung it over my shoulder.

"Out," Sherlock told me as he pushed me out of the flat and I shook my head as I started off down the stairs.

"Gee, I could have thought of that," I giggled as I looked back at the consulting detective who rolled his eyes at me. I walked out onto the street before waiting for him to see where he was going. He took my hand in his and led John and I a little ways down Baker Street before he stopped in front of a café and opened the door, holding it open for me. I shook my head at him before entering the café, John filing in behind me. Sherlock led us over to a table in the back of the café and I slid into the booth before Sherlock sat next to me, John sitting across from us.

A waitress came over to our table and took our order before she left us again. Not surprising Sherlock didn't order anything, but John ordered a large breakfast while I opted for a plate of yogurt and fresh fruit with a side of toast and a cup of tea. We didn't have to wait long before she brought our breakfast out to us and I looked over at Sherlock who had been sitting rigidly beside me since we sat down. I knew he was just waiting for the phone to ring and I shook my head slightly as I started spreading jam over my toast before I took a bite of it. John tucked into his cooked breakfast with gusto and I took a sip of my tea as I watched Sherlock drum his fingers impatiently on the table, the phone lying next to his hand. I started eating my own breakfast, picking at my fruit. I didn't really feel hungry but I thought it best to eat something at least.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock asked John as I managed to get him to eat a bit of my toast.

"Mmm. You realize we've hardly stopped for breath since this thing started?" John asked us and I nodded as he ate another forkful of food before he looked at us thoughtfully. "Has it occurred to you ...?" John started before Sherlock cut him off.

"Probably," Sherlock said as I nodded and shrugged slightly.

"Most likely," I told John before he shook his head at us.

"No – has it occurred to you two that the bomber's playing a game with you? The envelope; breaking into the other flat; the dead kid's shoes – it's all meant for you," John told us and I nodded at him slightly. Sherlock and I had just had this discussion the night before.

"Yes, we know," Sherlock told him smiling slightly.

"I've been considering it for a while John," I told the army doctor truthfully. The thought had first crossed my mind during the first case. Actually, since the bomber had first called me Beautiful Bird.

"Is it him, then? Moriarty?" John asked us and I froze slightly at the name. That was something that had crossed my mind too. We knew he wanted to show off to us before. This seemed like him, but I couldn't be sure.

"Perhaps," Sherlock told him and I nodded slightly.

"Possibly. It sounds like him, but if it really is he wouldn't want us to know until the very end," I told John just as the pink phone beeped a message alert. Sherlock switched it on and it sounded two short Greenwich pips followed by the longer tone, and a photograph of a smiling middle-aged woman appeared on the screen. I frowned, realizing something about the pips. Originally there had been four short pips and then one long one and now with each new case presented to us there were less pips. Four small puzzles and an end game perhaps. It might explain why there were only four short pips in the first message when Greenwich pips usually consisted of five short pips and then a long one. I looked over at the picture of the woman and shook my head slightly, not knowing who she was.

"That could be anybody," Sherlock said irritably as I frowned and tried to think. Maybe I did know who she was.

"Well, it could be, yeah. Lucky for you, I've been more than a little unemployed," John told us and Sherlock and I both looked over to him in confusion. How was that lucky for us?

"How d'you mean?" Sherlock asked John, voicing our question aloud.

"Lucky for you, Mrs Hudson and I watch far too much telly," John answered him before he stood up and walked over to the counter. Smiling at the woman behind the counter, he picked up a remote control and switched on the small television hung on the wall. He switched the channel a couple of times until he found what he wanted. The woman from the photograph was on the screen, partway through her make-over show. She was gesturing to someone just offscreen.

"Thank you, Tyra! Doesn't she look lovely, everybody, now?" The woman on the screen asked and I frowned. A make-over show woman? The pink phone rang and I shared a look with Sherlock. "Anyway, speaking of silk purses and sows' ears...," The woman on screen continued as Sherlock picked up the phone and answered it. I leaned into him so I could hear the conversation as well.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked and I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath when the person on the other line started talking.

"This one ... is a bit ... defective. Sorry," An old woman said tremulously in a Yorkshire accent "She's blind. This is ... a funny one," The woman continued as John walked back over to the table. I let out the breath I was holding angrily. Being blind didn't make you defective. It made me sick that someone could even think that. "I'll give you ... twelve hours," The woman told us and Sherlock and I looked over to John as he sat down across from us again.

"Why are you doing this?" Sherlock asked, as he reached out and put his hand over my balled up fist. I relaxed my hand, realizing that I had it clenched so tightly that my knuckles had been turning white.

"I like ... to watch you two ... dance," The old woman told us, gasping and sobbing in terror as she finished speaking. Sherlock lowered the phone and shook his head at John before he dropped the phone onto the table and turned to look at the TV. Under the table he grabbed my hand and held it in his as I took a deep and calming breath. I was getting really tired of this bomber and very angry as well.

"... and I see you're back to your bad habits," The woman on screen continued. As the footage continued to show a voiceover replaced her voice and a news headline at the bottom of the screen read: Make-over Queen Connie Prince dead at 48.

"...continuing into the sudden death of the popular TV personality, Connie Prince. Miss Prince, famous for her make-over programmes, was found dead two days ago by her brother in the house they shared in Hampstead…," The news caster said and I looked up at Sherlock, nodding in confirmation.

"Well, dead for two days. Most likely at St. Bart's if the police are looking into her sudden death. Seems highly suspicious, might be an investigation," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me, knowing that I wanted to just delve right into the case. Right now there was an old woman somewhere who was terrified and strapped in Semtex. I had to concentrate on that right now, on getting her out alive. When I got emotional I made mistakes. I had to remove myself from what was causing me to be emotional so I could work. Sherlock took out his phone and called Lestrade confirming that Connie Prince's body was at St. Bart's morgue and that the police were in fact looking into her death for any evidence of foul play. He agreed to meet with us down at the morgue so we paid for our breakfast before leaving the café to catch a cab.

Sherlock shot me looks every few seconds during the cab ride and even John was looking at me in concern as I sat staring straight ahead. "Lexi, are you…?" John started and I sighed heavily.

"I'm fine John," I told the army doctor evenly. I was proud of myself for not snapping at him. It wouldn't help to take my anger out on him.

"Are you sure? You seem a little tense," John said, flinching slightly as I turned to look at him. I had insisted upon sitting in the middle during this trip. As much as I loved when I sat next to Sherlock because I got to sit closer to him, I needed to worry less about my feelings for Sherlock right now and worry more about saving this woman's life. Yes, I loved Sherlock. No, I didn't think that was going to go anywhere. I was being careful. I knew that Mycroft was right and I was only going to end up getting hurt if I got too close to him. I was smart and what more I knew how to control my feelings. I would keep things as friends between us and when the moment came that I couldn't I would move out. That wasn't important right now though.

"She's angry," Sherlock said suddenly and I turned to look at him and he raised an eyebrow at me. "It was a simple deduction. At first you were upset by the bomber's use of your nickname, now you are angry at him. You became even angrier when you heard the voice of the old woman over the phone," Sherlock said and I bit my cheek as I turned forward again.

"You're right. I am angry. Why would this sick son of a bitch strap a bomb onto a blind old lady?" I asked Sherlock fuming slightly and I missed the surprised looks on Sherlock and John's faces when I swore. "It's just… I'm wondering what his end game is going to be and I'm not too sure I'm going to like it," I told the two of them, taking a deep breath as the cab pulled up in front of the hospital. "I think this is going to end differently than we think," I told the boys as John opened the door and slid out, before holding it open for me. I paid the cabbie before sliding out after John. Sherlock joined us in front of the hospital and we followed him inside and down to the morgue where Lestrade was already waiting for us. He had called ahead which meant that Molly had already laid out Connie Prince's body for us. A sheet covered her leaving only her arms and upper chest bare. Lestrade lead us into the room, reading from a file as he walked.

"Connie Prince, fifty-four. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. Did you see it?" Lestrade asked us as we quickly got down to business after I explained to him about the call and that we had more time to solve the case this time around.

"No," Sherlock answered him shortly and I bit back a laugh. I couldn't imagine Sherlock watching a make-over show.

"No not really my thing. I like shows with a bit more intellectual content," I told Lestrade who shook his head at me and I grinned back at him cheekily.

"Very popular. She was going places," Lestrade told us and I looked down at Connie Prince's body and shrugged.

"Well…," I said, throwing a look at Sherlock and he finished what I was thinking.

"Not anymore," Sherlock said throwing a slight smirk in my direction before he became serious again. "So, dead two days. According to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos, she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden. Nasty wound," Sherlock said, recalling what was written down in the file. He, John, and I looked at the deep cut in the webbing between her right thumb and index finger. It looked rather bad, must have bled a lot. "Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream – good night Vienna," Sherlock concluded and I frowned as I bent over Connie's body and eyed the cut more closely.

"I suppose," John said as I straightened up and shook my head.

"Not exactly," I told the boys and Sherlock nodded slightly in agreement with what I said.

"Something's wrong with this picture," Sherlock agreed as John and Lestrade looked between Sherlock and I questioningly.

"Eh?" Lestrade asked us in confusion and I gestured to the body.

"Can't be as simple as it seems, otherwise the bomber wouldn't be directing us towards it. Something's wrong," Sherlock told them, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the body, then bent closer to look along Connie's right arm as he took his magnifier from his pocket. There were several scratches on her upper arm which looked like claw marks. She most likely had a cat, but I wasn't sure how that came into this yet. Sherlock moved up to her face and I bent forward to see what he was looking at and noticed some tiny pinpricks on her forehead just above her nose. They were injection sites.

"John?" I asked and the army doctor hummed as he looked up at me questioningly. "The cut on her hand, it's deep, it would have bled a lot, right?" I asked him as I straightened up, looking over Connie's body as I made a full medical opinion of her. John was my second opinion in this case.

"Yeah," John agreed with me and I nodded as Sherlock looked up at me with a slight grin on his face as he caught on to what I was doing.

"But the wound's clean – very clean, and fresh," Sherlock added as he looked up, his eyes flickering as I saw him thinking it through. He straightened up and clicked his magnifier closed as he and I met each other's gaze.

"Remind me John, how long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?" I asked the army doctor, educating him so that he could figure it out like Sherlock and I had already.

"Eight, ten days," John told us and Sherlock quirked a one-sided grin and turned to John, waiting for him to put it all together. It doesn't take him long and I grinned at him mischievously. "The cut was made later," John said and I pointed at him and nodded in confirmation.

"After she was dead?" Lestrade asked us and Sherlock gestured for me to take over the explanation.

"It had to have been. The only question is, how did the tetanus enter her system?" I asked the boys and John looked along the body thoughtfully as Sherlock turned to John.

"You want to help, right?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor immediately answered him.

"Of course," He said quickly and Sherlock looked up at me and I nodded at him slightly, agreeing with what he had planned. It would be good to send John off on his own again. It would be a good way for him to learn some skills of his own.

"Connie Prince's background – family history, everything. Give us data," Sherlock told him and John nodded.

"Right," He told us before he turned and left the room. Sherlock looked down at Connie's body one more time, then turned and headed towards the door. I followed after him, catching up with him and taking the hand he offered me.

"There's something else that we haven't thought of," Lestrade said and I looked back at the D.I and raised an eyebrow at him. I rather doubted I hadn't thought of whatever he was thinking.

"Is there?" Sherlock asked him casually as I watched the D.I carefully.

"Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber?" Lestrade asked us and Sherlock and I stopped. Sherlock kept his back to Lestrade, looking a little anxious. I looked up at him and shook my head slightly. We couldn't tell him what we thought just yet. He nodded at me slightly in agreement. "If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?" Lestrade asked us questioningly.

"Good Samaritan," Sherlock answered him nonchalantly, over his shoulder. He started towards the door again with me but Lestrade persisted with his line of questioning.

"... who press-gangs suicide bombers?" Lestrade asked us, unconvinced and I shrugged slightly as I looked back at him.

"Bad Samaritan," Sherlock told him and I snorted. That was one way of putting it.

"I'm – I'm serious, Sherlock. Listen, I'm cutting you two slack here; I'm trusting you two – but out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in Semtex and is just waiting for you to solve the puzzle. So just tell me: what are we dealing with?" Lestrade asked us and I froze slightly at his description of the new hostage. We hadn't told him that it was an old woman. That part we thought it best to leave out. Sherlock looked away from me thoughtfully before he smiled at me with delight.

"Something new," He told Lestrade and I nodded at him, not exactly feeling his delight.

"Something definitely new," I agreed with him before we started out the door of the morgue together, Lestrade following after us. "And something also dangerous," I added quietly so only Sherlock could hear me. He raised an eyebrow at me and I looked at him pointedly. This was very new and very dangerous and I realized that this was no more than one great game and we were the pawns on a chess board.


	50. Connecting the Dots

**A/N**

**Hello sweeties! I'm updating this early because there are supposed to be solar flares coming in over the next few days which might cut out power and wifi and I really want to give you a chance to read this before that happens. The last ones this bad cut of power in some parts of Canada for 24 hours and I don't know what sort of power I'll have tomorrow. Might not be effected at all or I might be. Hope you like this chapter. More nitty gritty case stuff, still brilliant though. **

**I'm doing well, still waiting for my MRI to get scheduled. I swear doctors drag their feet on everything. Still chugging along though. Uni has been brilliant so far and so far, all A's on assignments! Brilliant. **

**So, I just wanted to let you know what my story outlook is like.**

**2014**

**TRS continues until season three of course, and it just goes until I run out of chapters and then goes on hiatus until the new season comes back at which point it starts up again. **

**A Different Sort of Goldfish- This starts up after a Scandal in Belgravia and it is a Mycroft and OC short story companion to TRS featuring my OC of Joanna or Joanie. **

**2015**

**Kidlock Au short story featuring Lexi**

**University Au featuring Lexi**

**Cabin Pressure Series with one cross over chapter featuring Lexi and the boys**

**2016**

**Harry Potter Severus Snape/ OC story**

**Owl, I really want to get into the Harry Potter story but getting into another long series right now is going to be a bit difficult because of college and I want it to be good. I'll be working on it though but if I am even able to do it I probably wouldn't be able to start posting it until 2016 at the earliest. **

**I graduate with my AA next December so I have to get a bit more serious at college and my classes are going to be a bit more demanding next term since I have to do theater classes and then I might be secretary in the Student Government. Shorter stories are a bit easier for me to work on right now so I have several shorter stories planned for next year all featuring Lexi and the boys to some degree.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter FortyEight- Connecting The Dots<strong>

Sherlock and I returned to the flat after we left Lestrade at the morgue and we set up a huge collage on the wall above the couch as we tried to find the connection between all three of the cases. I knew that it was possible that we wouldn't find a connection between the three cases. It was highly likely that all three were completely random. The first was personal to the bomber. He admitted that he knew Carl Powers. The next two cases didn't seem personal at all. Why point out that Monkford faked his death and why point out that Connie Prince's death was suspicious? It would seem liked a Good Samaritan if not for the fact that there were hostages covered with Semtex. Our collage got us nowhere so Sherlock and I took a cab over to the Yard to review some files on the last few cases. The new information left us again with nothing and before long Sherlock announced that we needed to return to the flat. Lestrade decided to join us, wanting to know what we had currently on the case. We had eight hours left to go on this case and I was worrying slightly that we wouldn't be able to solve it in time. I knew that we would, I certainly wasn't going to rest until it was solved, but part of me worried that something would go wrong. The cab ride back to Baker Street was filled with awkward silence. I sat in between Sherlock and Lestrade, ignoring the looks that Lestrade kept shooting our way as Sherlock looked out of the window and played with one of my hands. I paid the cabbie when we got back to the flat as Sherlock and Lestrade both raced out of the cab as soon as it stopped. I sighed and shook my head fondly as they left me behind and the cabbie threw me a pitying look before I took off after them inside. I raced up the stairs to join them and walked into the flat to find Sherlock pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, Lestrade standing nearby him, as he looked occasionally at the wall behind the sofa which was covered with our maps, photographs of Connie Prince, both when she was alive and the pictures Sherlock had taken in the morgue, and then the photos of Carl Powers, press cuttings from his case, and various sheets of paper with notes scribbled on them.

"Connection, connection, connection. There must be a connection," Sherlock muttered under his breath as I stood in the door way and looked up at our collage. Sherlock stopped and gestured towards various spots on the display on the wall as I walked closer to him. "Carl Powers, killed twenty years ago. The bomber knew him; admitted that he knew him. The bomber's iPhone was in stationery from the Czech Republic. First hostage from Cornwall; the second from London; the third from Yorkshire, judging by her accent. What's he doing – working his way round the world? Showing off?" Sherlock asked as the pink phone rang. He took it from his pocket and looked at the Caller I.D. showing it to me as I walked over and joined him by his side. Again it read "NUMBER BLOCKED." He answered the call and set it on speaker so we could hear the conversation.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Joining the ... dots," The old woman sobbed. "Three hours, boom ... boom," She cried in terror before the phone went dead. Sherlock looked at Lestrade for a moment as the D.I. looked back at us in shock before Sherlock switched off the phone and put it back into his pocket. He raised his hands to his mouth in the prayer position, concentrating on the wall in front of him. I looked to it myself and tilted my head to the right as I regarded it.

"Like I said, he wants to show us what he can do. It's a game. All of it is one great game. The bomb, the shoes in the flat below us, he's showing us just how close he can get to us if he wants to. Each puzzle is meant to distract us from something. He doesn't want us to figure out his end game," I told the two boys and Lestrade looked at me, furrowing his brow.

"And what is his end game?" Lestrade asked me and I shook my head, looking up at Sherlock and meeting his gaze.

"I don't know," I said truthfully before Sherlock and I turned back to our collage. Time was running out for us.

**John's POV**

John arrived at Kenny Prince, the brother's, house and was shown into the beautifully and elegantly decorated living room by the 'houseboy' Raoul. Kenny Prince was a man in his late fifties and he was wearing a very fancy purple shirt that John was sure cost more than all the money he currently had to his name which wasn't much. Raoul on the other hand was far younger and far dishier. John steered clear of the hairless cat that was wandering about on the sofa as he met with Connie's brother. It wasn't that he disliked cats, he just preferred dogs. He wasn't sure what he was actually doing but he wanted to help Sherlock and Lexi with the case. The way Lexi had looked in the cab told him that this was starting to get to her.

"We're devastated. Of course we are," Kenny said as John walked into the living room. Kenny reached the other side of the room and turned back, propping his arm on the mantelpiece. Feeling very uncomfortable now, John sat down on the sofa beside the cat.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" Raoul asked him and John looked up at him awkwardly.

"Er, no. No, thanks," John told him and Raoul looked across the room to Kenny, who smiled at him. Raoul returned the smile, then turned and left the room. John was no consulting detective but he knew what that look was.

"Raoul is my rock. I don't think I could have managed," Kenny said, looking down sadly. "We didn't always see eye to eye, but my sister was very dear to me," Kenny continued as the cat climbed onto John's lap and meowed loudly in protest at him as he picked up the cat and put it back down beside him.

"And – and to the public, Mr. Prince," John told the man. He had gone with the excuse that he worked for the media and wanted to be the first to do an interview with him. John was quite proud of himself for coming up with the idea on the spot. He had taken a leaf out of Lexi's book.

"Oh, she was adored. I've seen her take girls who looked like the back end of Routemasters and turn them into princesses," Kenny said as John looked down in frustration as the cat climbed into his lap again. "Still, it's a relief in a way to know that she's beyond this veil of tears," Kenny told him as John nervously held the cat as it started purring contentedly on his lap.

"Absolutely," John told him awkwardly as he looked between Kenny and the cat. This could not get any worse could it?

**Lexi's POV**

Mrs. Hudson joined the three of us up at the flat when she heard that we were in. She stood between Lestrade and me as we faced the paper covered wall. Sherlock had made a call through to someone who owed him a favour in order to try and get us some more information. After I had told the boys my theory that this was all a game in order to distract us from something, Sherlock had doubled his efforts to figure out what the connection we were looking for might be. I had cashed in on my own favour and had texted Garcia and asked her to run a search on our three victims to see if there was any connection between the three cases. Her search yielded no results, but she had been able to dig more stuff up on the Carl Powers' case for us which she sent over to me. I was concentrating on that case as we knew that our bomber knew Carl Powers and admitted that he had. It was therefore more likely that we could figure out the identity of our bomber by looking at that case. Though our search had yielded nothing so far I was not giving up. Sooner or later our bomber would slip up. Criminals always made mistakes and when they did it made our job so much easier.

"Any luck?" I whispered to Sherlock and he nodded at me and I grinned excitedly.

"Great. ... Thank you. Thanks again," Sherlock said into the phone as he turned and walked towards the fireplace. Mrs Hudson looked sadly at a photo of Connie Prince on the wall beside me.

"It was a real shame. I liked her. She taught you how to do your colours," Mrs. Hudson said and Lestrade, who had turned and was watching Sherlock on the other side of the room, turned back to look at Mrs. Hudson.

"Colours?" Lestrade asked her in confusion and I bit my lip to hold back a giggle. I couldn't imagine the D.I. having any idea about what she meant or ever having watched Connie's show.

"You know ...," Mrs. Hudson told Lestrade as she gestured down at her clothes "... what goes best with what. I should never wear cerise, apparently. Drains me. And Lexi shouldn't wear turquoise," Mrs. Hudson said as I looked over my shoulder at Sherlock who had just finished his conversation. He walked back over to join us and stopped beside me.

"Who was that?" Lestrade asked him as he went back to staring at the wall.

"Home Office," Sherlock told him distractedly.

"Office?" Lestrade asked him in surprise and I shrugged. We had connections. As a consulting detective you had to have connections with people. It's why we worked with Lestrade. How else were we going to get into crime scenes?

"Well, Home Secretary, actually. Owes me a favour," Sherlock told Lestrade who looked even more shocked by this admission.

"And they owe me several," I added as I looked at the wall, specifically at a picture of Connie holding an award which she presumably won for her show.

"She was a pretty girl but she messed about with herself too much. They all do these days," Mrs. Hudson said as she looked round at Lestrade. "People can hardly move their faces. It's silly, isn't it?!" She giggled as Lestrade smiled at her politely. She turned to Sherlock as my eyes widened slightly in surprise. Connie was using Botox. That was why she had the injection marks in her face. That was brilliant. I looked over at Sherlock and he nodded at me so slightly it was barely noticeable to anyone else. "Did you ever see her show?" Mrs. Hudson asked us, not noticing what had just passed between us.

"Not until now," Sherlock told her as he picked up his notebook computer.

"Um no," I told Mrs. Hudson politely as a video started playing on Sherlock's laptop, showing footage of an episode of Connie's make-over show. She was talking to her brother in the TV studio.

"You look pasty, love!" Connie told her brother and I raised an eyebrow slightly at that.

"Ah," He brother Kenny responded as he looked out at the audience. "Rained every day but one!"

"That's the brother. No love lost there, if you can believe the papers," Mrs. Hudson told us with a nod and I grinned slightly. Apparently Mrs. Hudson was a great source for gossip. I would have to remember that in the future. I already had found out that she passed on information to Mycroft about Sherlock and I and he paid her well for it. It's how she was doing well for herself in retirement. I knew that Sherlock had also figured this bit of information out. He didn't seem to mind it though as there wasn't much Mrs. Hudson could tell Mycroft and it kept him reasonably happy and when Mycroft was happy he was less annoying.

"So I gather. I've just been having a very fruitful chat with people who loved this show. Fan sites – indispensable for gossip," Sherlock told her and I laughed as I grinned at him cheekily.

"If you like that, you should see Tumbler," I told him with a nod. Fans were some of the most helpful people around. They categorized every fact about what they watched. If you needed quick information as we did with Connie, the best way was to go to the source.

"There's really only one thing we can do with that ensemble, don't you think, girls?" Connie said, gesturing to the clothes which her brother was wearing. She stood up and clapped her hands rhythmically as she began to chant. "Off! Off! Off! Off!" The audience took up the chant and the clapping. By the third, "Off!" Connie was rhythmically beating her hands quite hard onto Kenny's back as he dropped his jacket to the floor and started to unbutton his shirt. He grimaced in pain but then turned a false smile towards the audience. Well, if anyone had an issue with his sister it was Kenny Prince.

**John's POV**

Kenny was still standing by the fireplace, looking thoughtfully at a framed photograph of Connie holding her TV award. John was sitting on the sofa looking down at his notebook as he talked, trying to move the conversation along. So far he was getting nowhere with this. He was trying to tactfully ask Kenny about the tetanus to see if he would give anything up.

"It's more common than people think. The tetanus is in the soil, people cut themselves on rose bushes, garden forks, that sort of thing. If left un…," John said, looking up in surprise as Kenny suddenly plonked heavily down on the sofa beside him and stared at him intensely. "…treated...," John finished as he sat rigidly.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now," Kenny said emotionally and John cringed inwardly. This was not going the way he thought it was. Whenever Sherlock or Lexi questioned someone it always went exactly as they wanted it to go.

"Right," John told him a little nervously.

"I mean, she's left me this place, which is lovely...," Kenny said as John looked around the living room, narrowing his eyes slightly. He wouldn't agree with the definition of lovely. It looked like a show house. There was no comfort like there was back at Baker Street. John was actually starting to miss the clutter. "…but it's not the same without her."

"Th-that's why my paper wanted to get the, um, the full story straight from the horse's mouth. You sure it's not too soon?" John asked him as he fidgeted as he tried to move further away from Kenny, but he was unable to do so.

"No," Kenny told him and John sighed a bit in exasperation.

"Right," John told him as Kenny continued to stare intensely at him.

"You fire away," Kenny told him as the cat meowed and trotted across the carpet. John watched it as he reached up to rub the side of his nose. As John pulled his hand away again he suddenly realizes that his hand smelt a bit odd and he quickly raised his hand to his nose once more, pretending to rub it as he quietly sniffed at his fingers and looked towards the cat again. He smiled round nervously at Kenny. He had just figured out the case.

**Lexi's POV**

Mrs. Hudson left us after I told her gently that she probably should go and rest her hip with a good cup of tea. Lestrade looked relieved when I got her to leave us as did Sherlock. Both men were still standing in front of the wall display, but I had perched on the arm of the couch and I was staring back at them instead. Sherlock's phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence in the flat and he fished it out of his jacket pocket, looked quickly at the Caller I.D. , and then held the phone to his ear.

"John," He answered and I got up quickly and moved over to him when he looked over at me. I watched Sherlock as he listened to whatever John was saying before he finally said something again. "We'll remember," Sherlock told him before he handed his phone over to me.

"John?" I asked the army doctor as Sherlock left me with Lestrade and walked back towards his room.

"Hey. I need you to bring some makeup stuff and some cameras. I've told Kenny I want to interview him so you'll have to bring professional stuff," John told me and I nodded as Sherlock came back into the room.

"Alright, we'll get everything and head over there," I told John before hanging up and giving Sherlock back his phone. "Cameras and make-up," I told Sherlock who nodded before he crossed over to the desk and bent down to grab a box in the corner. I left the two men together as I made it back to my room. Thank God for Anthea. I didn't wear makeup but she insisted on buying me professional make-up kits. For once they would come in handy. I grabbed the carriage case I had full of stuff and brought it back out into the living room. I threw my case bag over to Sherlock and he started putting the professional camera and various flashes into it. I assumed that he had them because of a previous case he worked on. When I came back into the living room Lestrade was gone which meant Sherlock had gotten him to leave. Once we had everything we needed I nodded at Sherlock and we both pulled our coats and scarfs back on before we headed out of the flat to go and rescue John.

**John's POV**

John looked down at his watch again as Kenny primped in front of the mirror near the fireplace. He had been waiting for Sherlock and Lexi for over half an hour and he was running out of ways to occupy Kenny as he waited for them to arrive. It was as if the bells of Heaven were ringing when the entrance door shut suddenly. John put down his teacup and grinned slightly at Kenny, feeling relieved.

"That'll be them," John told Kenny who looked over at him distractedly.

"What?" Kenny asked him as Raoul showed Sherlock and Lexi into the room. John saw that Sherlock had Lexi's case bag slung over his shoulder and he was also carrying a long, narrow case which was designed to hold a photographic tripod. Lexi was carrying a black train case as she came inside, all smiles. Sherlock walked over to Kenny as Lexi followed him over. John realized that Lexi was wearing makeup that she hadn't been before. Her cheeks were rosier and she had black eyeliner on. It wasn't over done, but from the slight smudge in the line on her left eye John assumed that she had quickly done her makeup in the cab. She also was wearing a light dusting of green eye glitter. It didn't look like Lexi and John held back his frown. It would have looked odd for a makeup artist to not be wearing makeup, but it just wasn't Lexi. Not that she didn't look beautiful as always.

"Ah, Mr. Prince, isn't it?" Sherlock asked as Kenny looked him and Lexi over critically.

"Yes," Kenny told him and Lexi nodded animatedly. It was then that John realized that she was acting. It was why she had such a large smile plastered on her face. She normally smiled, but not that wide and not that fakely. Her genuine smiles looked a lot better.

"Very good to meet you," Sherlock told him, acting as well.

"Yes, hello," Lexi told him with a very posh British accent that was different from her usual London accent she used to cover up her Irish brogue. John was once again slight surprised over how she could so easily switch her accents out and become like an entirely different person.

"Yes; thank you," Kenny told them as he and Sherlock shook hands. Sherlock looked closely at Kenny's hand as they did so before he released his hand and Kenny shook Lexi's offered hand.

"So sorry to hear about ...," Sherlock said as Lexi nodded mournfully.

"Terrible news. I just couldn't believe it," Lexi told Kenny, shaking her head sadly. John would have almost thought she really cared if he didn't know better.

"Yes, yes, very kind," Kenny told them, waving them off slightly.

"Shall we, er...," John said and Sherlock walked over to the sofa and put the case down and started rummaging in his bag. Kenny turned back to the mirror and fiddled with his hair again as Lexi opened her makeup case and started pulling out brushes and various things of makeup. She went over to Kenny and started chatting with him and laughing as she started getting him ready for his "photo-shoot."

"You were right. The bacteria got into her another way," John told Sherlock quietly as Lexi distracted Kenny.

"Oh yes?" Sherlock asked him with a smirk.

"Yes," John said as Kenny turned back to him and Lexi moved away from him and started packing up her make up again.

"Right. We all set?" Kenny asked them as Lexi moved closer to them, still smiling at Kenny.

"Um, yes," John told him before he looked at Sherlock who had taken a camera and flashgun out of his bag, and jerked his head towards Kenny. "Can you ...?" John asked him as Lexi took over.

"Just give us a nice pose there," Lexi told Kenny with a large smile and Kenny leaned one arm on the mantelpiece and posed for them. "There you go, perfect," Lexi told him, giving him a double thumbs up as Sherlock walked over to him and started taking photographs of him.

"Not too close. I'm raw from crying," Kenny told Sherlock and Lexi waved him off.

"Oh no, you look fabulous," Lexi lied to him as the cat meowed at Sherlock's feet. He looked down as died Lexi only Lexi's smile turned genuine in an instant.

"Oh, who's this?" Sherlock asked Kenny as he looked down at the cat.

"Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess," Kenny told them as Lexi made faces at the cat. Trust her to be a cat person. Actually she just seemed like she was an animal person in general.

"How nice! Was she Connie's?" Sherlock asked as Lexi crouched down next to the cat who rubbed against her leg.

"Yes," Kenny told them as Lexi scratched behind the cat's ear.

"Well aren't you a little dear?" Lexi asked the cat as she talked in a higher pitch. "Oh, there you go," Lexi cooed as she picked up the cat and stood up as the cat started purring and reach out, pawing at her face as Lexi giggled slightly and made more faces at the cat. John could have sworn that he saw Sherlock roll his eyes as Lexi handed the animal off to Kenny as he reached for her.

"Little present from yours truly," Kenny told them as John looked over at Sherlock who was watching Lexi. The consulting detective shook his head slightly. John let out a frustrated sigh. She hadn't even been there long and she was already doing better than he had and he had been here for over two hours.

"Sherlock? Uh, light reading?" John told Sherlock who started fumbling with the equipment he had as Lexi picked her makeup case up off of the floor where she had left it when she crouched down to pet the cat.

"Oh, um...," Sherlock said as he lifted the second flashgun which he was holding in his other hand and held it towards Kenny and started firing it straight into his face. "Two point eight," Sherlock told them as Kenny squinched his eyes shut against the light.

"Bloody hell. What do you think you're playing at?!" Kenny demanded and John immediately reached out and rubbed his fingers over one of the cat's front paws. Lexi watched him and caught his eye smirking slightly at him. Sherlock kept firing the flashgun to keep Kenny's eyes closed.

"Sorry," Sherlock told Kenny as John lifted his fingers away and sniffed them as Sherlock continued to fire the flashgun.

"You're like Laurel and bloody Hardy, you two. She's the only professional one. What's going on?" Kenny demanded as Lexi nodded her head back towards the doorway and gave John a pointed look.

"Actually, I think we've got what we came for. Excuse us," John told Kenny and Lexi nodded at him slightly.

"What?" Kenny asked him in confusion and John looked pointedly at Sherlock who wasn't getting it yet.

"Sherlock, Lexi," John said, giving the consulting detective a pointed look as Lexi shuffled away from Kenny and over towards them.

"What?" Sherlock asked as Lexi nodded in agreement with him.

John grabbed the case from the sofa and headed for the door. "We've got deadlines," John told Sherlock as Sherlock and Lexi followed after him.

"But you've not taken anything!" Kenny shouted after them as they ignored him. The three of them hurried out of the living room and let themselves out of the door. John chuckled delightedly as they walked down the drive and headed towards the main road and Lexi laughed and shook her head before she grimaced slightly.

"Yes! Ooh, yes!" John said as Lexi took the hand that Sherlock offered her.

"You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat," Sherlock told him while smiling.

"What? No, yes. Yeah, it is. It must be. It's how they got the tetanus into her system. Its paws stink of disinfectant," John told them as Lexi looked across Sherlock at him and smiled at him.

"Lovely idea," Sherlock told him, still smiling as Lexi nodded animatedly.

"Very good idea John. I'm proud of you," Lexi told him and John smiled for a second before shaking his head and frowning slightly.

"No, he coated it onto the paws of her cat. It's a new pet – bound to be a bit jumpy around her. A scratch is almost inevitable. She wouldn't have...," John said before Sherlock interrupted him.

"I thought of it the minute I saw the scratches on her arm, but it's too random and too clever for the brother," Sherlock told him and John chuckled again as he looked across to Lexi in disbelief. Was he being serious about this?

"He murdered his sister for her money," John told them as Lexi raised an eyebrow at him from across Sherlock's chest.

"Did he?" Sherlock asked him and John looked over at Sherlock in confusion.

"Didn't he?" John asked him and Lexi shook her head at him.

"No sorry John," Lexi told him ruefully before Sherlock took over.

"No. It was revenge," Sherlock told him and John's face screwed up in confusion.

"Revenge? Who wanted revenge?" John asked them shaking his head in disbelief.

"Raoul, the houseboy," Lexi told him before Sherlock took over for her.

"Kenny Prince was the butt of his sister's jokes, week in, week out, a virtual bullying campaign. Finally he had enough; fell out with her badly. It's all on the website," Sherlock told him and Lexi nodded before she took up the explanation again.

"Connie threatened to disinherit Kenny and Raoul had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, so that meant that she had to go," Lexi told him and John stopped and turned to them in exasperation.

"No, wait, wait. Wait a second," John told them as Sherlock and Lexi stopped as well. "What about the disinfectant, then, on the cat's claws?"" John asked them as Lexi grimaced, her nose scrunching up in disgust.

"Raoul keeps a very clean house. You came through the kitchen door, saw the state of that floor, scrubbed to within an inch of its life. You smell of disinfectant now, so does Lexi. No, the cat doesn't come into it," Sherlock explained and John pulled his jacket up to sniff at it as Sherlock looked towards the main road.

"Yeah thanks," Lexi said, shaking her head, her nose still crinkled in disgust at the smell of the disinfectant.

"Raoul's internet records do, though. Hope we can get a cab from here," Sherlock told him before he walked off with Lexi. John sighed in exasperation and a touch of disappointment that he hadn't solved the case for once. He glared towards his Sherlock and Lexi's backs and then followed after them.

They managed to find a cab once they got out to the main road and Sherlock told the cabbie to take them to St. Barts. Lexi sighed heavily as she burrowed into Sherlock's side. Surprisingly the consulting detective let her. John raised an eyebrow slightly at it as Sherlock stared straight ahead as if he didn't have a woman curled up on him. Lexi only sat upright and pulled herself off of him when the cab slowed down in front of the hospital. Sherlock leaned forward and paid the cabbie as Lexi slid of out the cab and then the consulting detective followed her out of the car. They never broke contact with each other's hands during the whole exchange which left John more suspicious than before. What exactly had happened to him when he left for Sarah's? Somehow they just seemed more…clingy than normal. John followed the two detectives into the hospital and they headed right down to the morgue. John wasn't sure what they were doing here, but he was somewhat afraid to ask them. They walked into the room that had the light on inside and Lexi smiled as she walked inside, letting go of Sherlock's hand. John caught Sherlock's frown before the detective made his face emotionless and joined her inside. John shook his head and followed them inside. Molly had gloves on and had a brain in front of her on the lab table. John grimaced slightly but Lexi and Sherlock didn't seem fazed by it.

"Hey Molls," Lexi greeted the other woman with a grin as Molly looked up at them.

"Oh, hey Lexi, Sherlock…," Molly said, quickly looking over at the consulting detective before looking away quickly. "Um, do you need something?" Molly asked Lexi as the girl nodded at her.

"I need you to wheel Connie Prince out for me again," Lexi told Molly as she pulled her gloves off.

"Sure, um, just give me a second," Molly told her as she picked up the tray with the brain in it and brought it over to a fridge in the back corner of the room and put it inside. John followed after Sherlock and Lexi who followed Lexi into another room. The pathologist wheeled out Connie Prince's body for them again before leaving them to go back to her work. John was confused as to what they needed it for until Lexi shrugged out of her coat and scarf and handed them off to Sherlock. She went over to the wall and picked up a lab coat, slipping it on over her clothes before she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Good thing for you I can still do this," Lexi told Sherlock as the consulting detective pulled out his phone and his fingers started flying over the keyboard.

"How long do you think it will take you?" Sherlock asked the girl as she pulled the white sheet down, exposing Connie's face. She titled her head to the side as she bent down and inspected the body closely before she looked back up at Sherlock.

"Half an hour," She told him as John's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hang on, what will take half an hour?" John asked them as Lexi moved over to a table with scalpels and other tools on it.

"Secondary autopsy. We need to know what really killed her and Sherlock and I have a good idea. Molly could always do it, but I know what we're looking for so I can be quick about it," Lexi explained as she picked up a scalpel and grimaced, shaking her head before she walked back over to Connie's body and looked down at it. "Can't say I'm happy to be doing this again. Oh well," Lexi shrugged before she got started on what she had to do. John looked away as Sherlock looked up, before continuing on with his texting.

Lexi did in fact only need a half an hour to conduct her secondary autopsy. Sherlock had watched her work with interest but John had gone to wait out in the hall, not exactly comfortable with watching Lexi cut up a cadaver. She had cried in triumph when the test results came back in and Sherlock had finally put down his phone and walked over to her as John walked back into the room. She showed Sherlock the results and he smirked before she printed them out and put them in a file which she handed off to him. He reached into Lexi's case bag and pulled out a stack of several other papers which he slipped into the file. John waited for one of them to tell him what was going on, but neither of them did. Instead Lexi covered Connie's body over again and took off her gloves and threw them in the bin. She washed her hands in the sink, scrubbing her hands furiously before she dried them off and slipped out of her lab coat, putting it back up on its peg. She walked over to Sherlock who held her coat up for her as she slid back inside of it before he slung her scarf around her neck. She grinned up at him as she tied it like his own before Sherlock turned on his heel. John followed after the consulting detective and Lexi who was walking just behind him and had taken her phone out now. They let Molly know they were all done with Connie's body before they just walked on out of the morgue. Sherlock hailed a cab as they got out of the hospital and Lexi slid inside wordlessly as her fingers flew over her keyboard. She snorted as John closed the door and Sherlock told the cabbie to take them to Scotland Yard. She slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket before she curled up in Sherlock's side again. John caught Lexi looking down at her watch and he looked down at his own. One hour to go. They arrived at the Yard and Sherlock paid for the cab again before he followed Lexi out of the cab. John shook his head in exasperation before he followed after them. On the way up to Lestrade's office they were stopped by Donovan and Sherlock and Lexi exchanged some heated words with her before they walked around her. Sherlock brandished the folder at Lestrade as he and Lexi walked into the main office as John walked in just behind them.

"Raoul de Santos is your killer. Kenny Prince's houseboy. Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince – it was botulinum toxin," Sherlock told Lestrade as he put the folder on the desk.

"I conducted the second autopsy myself, no room for error this time," Lexi added just as Lestrade reached for the folder. Sherlock leaned in closer to him though he didn't let go of Lexi's hand.

"We've been here before. Carl Powers? Tut-tut. Our bomber's repeated himself," Sherlock said as Lestrade walked towards his office, Sherlock and Lexi following him. John stared at them in surprise having not expected that.

"So how'd he do it?" Lestrade asked the two detectives and they looked at each other for a brief moment before Sherlock turned back to Lestrade.

"Botox injection," Sherlock told him simply and John frowned in confusion as he shook his head.

"Botox?" Lestrade asked him in exasperation as he turned back to look at them.

"You'd be surprised but as a method of murder it is rather perfect. Botox is a diluted form of botulinum," Lexi explained before Sherlock took over again with a nod.

"Among other things, Raoul de Santos was employed to give Connie her regular facial injections. My contact at the Home Office gave me the complete records of Raoul's internet purchases," Sherlock told the D.I as he pointed to the folder. "He's been bulk ordering Botox for months," Sherlock continued as John continued to stare at Sherlock becoming angrier by the second. They knew, they knew what it was all along. There was no need for him to have even met with the brother. "Bided his time, then upped the strength to a fatal dose," Sherlock said, oblivious to John's growing rage. Lexi looked over at him and they locked eyes for a second. Her eyes widened slightly before she frowned and John looked away from her.

"You sure about this?" Lestrade asked them and Lexi nodded at the D.I.

"I'm sure," Sherlock told him and Lexi looked back at John quickly before she turned back to Lestrade.

"As am I. I tested it myself. The poison was present in excess. It was a perfect way to kill her. She trusted Raoul. She never would have suspected him to kill her and certainly not in that way," Lexi told Lestrade who nodded at her in agreement.

"All right – my office," Lestrade told them and he turned and walked towards his office. Sherlock and Lexi started to follow him but John stopped the two detectives.

"Hey, Sherlock. How long?" John asked them, glaring at the dark haired detective.

"What?" Sherlock asked him, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion as Lexi looked between the both of them.

"How long have you two known?" John asked him as he turned his glare on Lexi. He felt slightly bad when he saw Lexi flinch slightly under his gaze, but he held his ground. She knew too, she wasn't exempt from this.

"Well, this one was quite simple, actually, and like I said, the bomber repeated himself. That was a mistake," Sherlock told him as he tried to walk towards Lestrade's office, pulling Lexi with him, but John stopped them again.

"No, but Sherl… The hostage… the old woman. She's been there all this time," John told them angrily and Lexi looked up at him and met his gaze.

"John…," She said, but Sherlock cut her off by leaning closer to the army doctor and looking at him intensely.

"I knew we could save her. I also knew that the bomber had given us twelve hours. We solved the case quickly; that gave us time to get on with other things. Don't you see? We're one up on him!' Sherlock said and Lexi pulled at his arm until he looked down at her.

"Sherlock!" She said, finally getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow at her and she raised one right back at him.

"Did you agree to this?" John asked Lexi, pursing his lips in frustration.

"Yes. I thought it was best. I don't like it any more than you do," Lexi said before she raised her hand when John tried to interrupt her.

"Lexi..," He said and the red head shook her head at him quickly.

"No John, just listen to me. I don't like it. I don't like any of this in fact, I hate it. This person knows things about me they shouldn't. No one knew except for the three of us. My grandfather is dead, Alistair would never tell anyone, and I certainly haven't. It scares me that the bomber knows things like that. Was letting her sit there right? No, it isn't, but it was the best choice we had. She was safe where she was for the time being. We had to take advantage of that to try and get a step ahead of him. Never for one second think I would sit by and let anyone come to harm," Lexi ranted, looking at him pleadingly. John nodded at her slowly, knowing she was right even if he didn't like it. To be honest, he was a little shocked by her admission. Lexi nodded once definitively. "Well, then," She said before she turned and pulled Sherlock with her into Lestrade's office. John watched them for a second and shook his head before he followed them.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock sat at Lestrade's desk while I sat on the actually desk next to him. He had a laptop open and running and he pulled up The Science of Deduction website. John and Lestrade stood on either side of the two of us as Sherlock started to type into the message box: **Raoul de Santos, the house-boy, botox. **He sent the message and the pink phone on the desk beside the computer rang almost instantly. He picked it up and answered, as I moved to his side and bent down so I could hear.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked calmly as I took in a deep breath of relief.

"Help me," The old woman cried in an anguished voice.

"Tell us where you are. Address," Sherlock directed her clearly.

"He was so ... His voice ...," The old woman said and Sherlock cut her off quickly.

"No, no, no, no. Tell us nothing about him. Nothing," Sherlock told her urgently.

"He's right. Just relax and we'll come get you. It's alright now," I told her, speaking quickly into the phone, trying to calm her down.

"He sounded so ... soft," The woman finished and I took in a sharp breath as the phone instantly went dead.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked as I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" Lestrade asked us as I sat down on Lestrade's desk again before my legs fell out from under me.

"What's happened?" John asked us quickly as Sherlock lowered the phone from his ear slowly and stared at me dead in the eye. He bit his lip as Lestrade straightened up and sighed. John braced his hand on the back of Sherlock's chair as he and I continued to stare at each other.

_'__No more,'_ He told me and I nodded slightly in response.

'_No more,'_ I agreed. That was the last person who was going to die. The first and the last. I was certain about that because now I was angry. That woman was brave even when she was crying. You didn't play games with me. The bomber just killed someone I liked even if I had never met the woman. That was not a safe place to stand around me. I was Lexi MacKenna and the bomber was now working against two of the only consulting detectives in the world who were fully invested in stopping him. He best look us up because one thing you never wanted to do was mess with anyone I cared about and as I saw it, they were messing with everyone I considered my family.


	51. Meretricious

**The last chapter was a little short and so is this one so I am giving it to you as a double update! More Lexi and Sherlock fluffy moments in this chapter and this brings us slightly closer to them getting together. Hope you all like this chapter sweeties, I actually rewrote the beginning part a bit and added a bit more fluff between our detectives. They do admit they're feelings for each other very soon, but if you've noticed, they're sort of sharing a bed now. *wiggles eyebrows* Sherlock likes to cuddle. ^-^ Happy Saturday and Many Happy Returns. Today is actually John Watson's birthday. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Forty Nine- Meretricious<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The night before the three of us returned to the flat and I had gone to my room as soon as we had gotten back in. I changed into my nightclothes before walking out of my room and knocking on the door of Sherlock's. I waited for a moment before the door opened and Sherlock greeted me, now dressed in his own night clothes. He said nothing as he stood aside and opened his door wider and I walked inside his room. I walked straight over to his bed and crawled into the side I had slept on the night before as Sherlock closed his bedroom door and walked over to the bed, crawling under the sheets next to me. He leaned over the side of the bed and turned his bedside lamp off before I curled up into his side and put my head on his chest, closing my eyes and sighing heavily. Wordlessly he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tightly to him, comforting me.

"Sleep," He whispered to me and I nodded slightly into his chest as I breathed in and out slowly, matching my breaths with his as he gently played with the ends of my hair. A few tears trickled out of my eyes and Sherlock held me tighter to him and shushed me, rubbing my arm comfortingly. I burrowed my face into his chest and breathed in his scent deeply as Sherlock let me sob on his chest without complaining about me ruining his shirt with my tears or snot. I might not have known the woman, but I felt for her. I hiccupped as Sherlock pulled the both of us up to sitting and kissed the top of my head, wiping my tears away with the pad of his thumbs. "Shush, Lexi, breath," Sherlock told me before he made me breath in and out in time with him. "It's alright," Sherlock assured me soothingly as he rubbed my back. "We'll solve this," Sherlock promised me and I nodded, calming down slightly. I took a deep breath and let it out, breathing in his scent which calmed me down as I listened to his heart beat underneath my ear. Sherlock started humming as he laid us down again and pulled me closely to him, wrapping me tightly in his arms. He pulled the blankets over us and tucked them around me and I felt safe and cocooned in the hold of his arms. I listened to Sherlock's humming and after a few minutes my eyes started to droop as the mental and emotional strain of the day overwhelmed me. Again, I fell asleep on his chest.

Like the morning before I woke up alone, my arms curled around Sherlock's pillow and my face pressed deeply into it. I took a deep breath, breathing in a scent that was purely Sherlock before I pulled myself upright. Like the day before there was a pile of clothes at the end of the bed waiting for me. I got out of bed and took the clothes with me to the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower, combing through my hair and getting out of my night clothes as I waited for the water to heat up. I jumped into the shower as soon as the water had lost its frigid quality and stood back in the water letting it spray over my face and wet my waist length copper locks. I wiped the water out of my face before I opened my eyes and reached for my apple scented shampoo. I squeezed a good amount into the palm of my hand before I started lathering my hair with the soap. I scrubbed at my scalp and sighed in contentment before I leaned back in the scalding hot water and washed the soap out of my hair. Fire cannot kill the dragon, I thought before I giggled to myself. Once it was finally out I scrubbed myself with my body wash before rinsing and turning off the water. I squeezed my hair to get as much water out of it as possible before I shook myself like a wet cat. I grinned to myself as I grabbed my towel off of the rack by the shower and wrapped it around myself, quickly drying off. I was careful as I stepped out of the shower and I took my towel off and wrapped it around my hair before I began dressing.

Sherlock had chosen a pair of jeans like the day before, but this time they were black skinny jeans. He had also given me a white tank top, and a dark blue jumper with pockets in the front, almost like a hoodie. I pulled the clothes on including the pair of thick socks which were Sherlock's and I knew he had given them to me which made me grin before I took the towel off my hair and rubbed it through my curls to get the remaining water out of it. Once done I left the bath room, dumping my clothes into my hamper on my way towards the living room. Sherlock and John were sitting in their armchairs watching the news on the TV both dressed and ready for the day. Sherlock had the pink phone on the left arm of his chair. The traffic was loud outside due to the fact that our windows were still broken and boarded up. I walked over to Sherlock and perched on the right arm of his chair looking over at the telly. He immediately moved his hand and played with the ends of my damp hair. On the TV, the picture showed a high-rise block of flats and the headline at the bottom of the screen read, "12 dead in gas explosion". The picture moved to a close-up, showing a corner of the building many floors up which had been torn open and exposed to the air.

"The explosion, which ripped through several floors, killing twelve people ...," The news reporter said as John briefly glanced over his shoulder at Sherlock and me.

"Old block of flats," He commented as I continued to listen to the news story.

"...is said to have been caused by a faulty gas main. A spokesman from the utilities company...," The newscaster said and I snorted. They were blaming it on a gas explosion again. Course it was smarter to not tell the public that there was a bomber kidnapping people and strapping bombs to them loose around London. Spreading panic wasn't a good idea.

"He certainly gets about," John said and I nodded, humming in agreement.

"Just a bit," I told him calmly.

"Well, obviously we lost that round – although technically we did solve the case," Sherlock said as he picked up the remote control and muted the volume.

"Sher," I warned him as he lowered his hand again and he looked thoughtfully into the distance.

"He killed the old lady because she started to describe him," Sherlock continued as he raised a finger on his other hand. "Just once, he put himself in the firing line," Sherlock told us and John frowned slightly.

"What d'you mean?" John asked us and I took in a deep breath before answering him.

"Usually, he stays above everything that happens. He organizes these things, but no one ever has direct contact with him. He gets others to do his dirty work. He has that sort of power. He's the planner, but not the enforcer. This time he was forced to get involved personally. For the first time he put himself in a position that could jeopardize his identity. Sherlock is right. That's the only reason why the woman died. He couldn't risk her telling us anything," I told John and Sherlock nodded in agreement beside me.

"What ... like the Connie Prince murder – he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?" John asked us and I nodded at him in confirmation.

"Exactly John. He organizes all of these crimes," I told the army doctor as I looked over at Sherlock.

"Novel," He said softly, his face full of admiration. John looked at him in disbelief, then turned and looks at the TV screen again, which had moved on to a new story.

"Huh," John said and he jerked a finger towards the screen. Sherlock and I looked up to see Raoul de Santos being bundled out of Kenny's house by police officers. The press were there and were shoving each other as they struggled to get close to Raoul and take photographs while interviewers shouted questions. The headline on the screen read: "Connie Prince: man arrested". Raoul was shoved into the back of a police car. John looked round at Sherlock, who was looking down at the pink phone.

"Taking his time this time," Sherlock said and I shook my head quickly.

"No, I think he is being careful. We've almost found out something about him. He's going to want to make sure a slip up like that doesn't happen again," I told Sherlock as John looked away from us, clearing his throat uncomfortably. On the TV, the camera was focusing on Kenny who was standing at the window of his house, holding Sekhmet in his arms and watching the chaos outside.

"Anything on the Carl Powers case?" John asked us and I shook my head as Sherlock answered him.

"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection," Sherlock told him. We had come to a dead end on figuring out who the bomber might be through Carl Powers. There was just no connection between anything.

"Maybe the killer was older than Carl?" John asked us and I looked to Sherlock sharing a look with him for a long moment.

"The thought had occurred," Sherlock told the army doctor as I watched him carefully.

"I tried to see if Garcia could find any connections for me but she found nothing. As far as we know there isn't one and my other contact is MIA or basically buried up to her eyeballs in work so she could only do a basic search which wielded nothing too. It's possible the bomber didn't even go to the same school as Carl," I told John as I turned to look over at him again.

"So why's he doing this, then – playing this game with you? D'you think he wants to be caught?" John asked us as Sherlock pressed his fingertips together in front of his mouth and smiled slightly.

"I think he wants to be distracted," Sherlock told John who laughed humourlessly, got out of his chair, and headed towards the kitchen.

"I hope you three will be very happy together," John said and I raised my eyebrow at his tone.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked him as I stared back at John is disbelief and a bit of anger.

"Excuse me?" I asked him as my brows furrowed and I fixed him with a glare. John turned back to us, furious, and leaned his hands on the back of his chair.

"There are lives at stake, Sherlock, Lexi, – actual human lives… Just - just so I know, do you care about that at all?" John asked us and I sniffed in anger as I continued to glare at the army doctor. How dare he think that I didn't care, that Sherlock didn't care?

"Will caring about them help save them?" Sherlock asked John irritably as I stared back at the army doctor feeling offended.

"Nope," John told him shortly.

"Then we'll continue not to make that mistake," Sherlock told him as he reached up and put a hand on my arm. I knew he was trying to calm me down, but right now I was too angry for even him to calm me down. I had told John. I had tried to tell him, but he hadn't listened to me.

"And you find that easy, do you?" John asked us as I bit my cheek.

"Yes and no, John," I told the army doctor keeping my tone steady as Sherlock rubbed his thumb over my arm slightly.

"Yes, very. Is that news to you?" Sherlock asked John as I shook my head.

"No," John answered him, smiling bitterly. "No," John said again and Sherlock and John locked eyes for a moment. John looked at me next but he looked away really quickly, good.

"We've disappointed you," Sherlock remarked as he rubbed his thumb over my arm again and I gritted my teeth but calmed down slightly as I blew a deep breath out through my gritted teeth.

"That's good – that's a good deduction, yeah," John told Sherlock bitterly as I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them," Sherlock said I immediately looked at him.

"That's not true Lock. We're all heroes in our own way," I told Sherlock and he looked away from John who he had been staring with and up at me. We shared a long look and the corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched up slightly. The pink phone suddenly sounded a message alert breaking our gaze.

"Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed as he picked up the phone and activated it. The phone sounded one short pip and the long tone, and a photograph appeared showing a river bank. "View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo," Sherlock said as he reached into his jacket for his own phone as I pulled out my mobile as well. "You check the papers; I'll look online ...," Sherlock said trailing off when he looked up and saw that John was standing with his hands braced on the back of his chair and his head lowered. "Oh, you're angry with us, so you won't help," Sherlock said and John raised his head and shrugged. "Not much cop, this caring lark," Sherlock said, loudly clicking the 'k' on the last word.

"Sher,"I said and he looked up at me and I shook my head at him. As much as I was still angry it wasn't good to start a fight. Sherlock nodded slightly before he looked down at his phone. I looked to John and met his gaze. "John, of course we care about the lives that are at stake, but Sherlock is right. Caring about them won't help save them," I told John, raising my hand when he tried to interrupt me. "No, John, you are going to listen to me. I know that isn't what you want to hear, but it's true. This is how we work. How we have to work. We're good at what we do because we are able to remove ourselves from the situation. You're a doctor. If you cared about every single man you operated on, how could you do your job? The answer is you couldn't. Sometimes you can't care. It sounds cold and maybe it is, but caring about them isn't going to help save them. Solving the case is. When we care we make mistakes. Mycroft has told me before that caring isn't an advantage and sometimes I think he's right," I said before looking away from John and bringing up the internet on my phone missing the slightly wide eyed look that Sherlock sent at me when I uttered that familiar phrase.

**Search:**

**Thames**

**+ High Tide**

**+ Riverside**

I looked up at John who was staring at us before he straightened up as he met my gaze. Sherlock continued his online search, totally focused on his work. I wasn't sure if he was really listening to what I had said or not. I got my answer when his gaze flicked up to mine. I looked away from him after a second and went back to my search. After a while John sniffed, then walked across the room towards the sofa. I switched to a different search, typing quickly.

**Local News**

**Greenwich**

**Waterloo**

**Battersea**

I selected Waterloo as John tiredly sat down on the sofa and started going through the pile of newspapers on the coffee table. My phone showed timed reports from the Waterloo area, giving tide times, police reports and other information as soon as the page loaded.

"Archway suicide," John read from the newspaper.

"Ten a penny," Sherlock snapped at him irritably. I flicked my gaze up to him and put my hand on his arm to calm him down and he flicked his gaze up at me as John threw him a look. I looked down again and went back to the Local News option and selected Battersea. The page showed "No new reports". So I tried "Thames Police Reports" and started scrolling through the duty log. I looked over at Sherlock's mobile and saw that he was doing the same. Great minds thought alike.

"Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington," John said as he put the paper aside he was looking though and picked up another one. "Ah. Man found on the train line – Andrew West," John read and I looked up at that.

"Nothing!" Sherlock exclaimed and I looked over at him. He looked exasperated as he found no helpful information in the reports like I had. He hit a speed dial and the phone begin to ring out. As soon as it was answered he started talking. "It's me. Have you found anything on the South Bank between Waterloo Bridge and Southwark Bridge?" Sherlock asked and I got up knowing that we would be leaving again. I grabbed my case bag and brought it over to the door as Sherlock ended his call and got up from his chair. "Body found on the south bank of the Thames," Sherlock told me as he joined me by the door. He helped me into my coat and scarf before he pulled his own on as John got up to join us by the door. I slung my case bag over my head and watched the two men as John and Sherlock stared at each other. John nodded at Sherlock who nodded back before Sherlock took my hand in his and led me down the stairs.

Sherlock hailed us a cab and we packed inside. I curled up into Sherlock's side and sighed heavily. His arm moved slightly tighter around me and I looked up at him and nodded letting him know that I was alright. The rest of the ride out to the crime scene was quiet and Sherlock stared out the window as I matched my breaths with Sherlock's. I wasn't angry at John any more, but I wasn't happy either. I understood how he felt. His heart was just too big to not care, but he had to understand that Sherlock and I didn't think like he did. I sighed again and snuggled deeper into Sherlock's side. When we got to the crime scene I paid the cabbie and slid out of the cab with Sherlock. He kept his hand in mine as we walked towards where Lestrade had the scene tapped off. Sherlock lifted the police tape for John and I and I let go of his hand as I ducked under it with our army doctor before he joined us on the other side and took my hand again. We continued walking, picking up some latex gloves on our way over towards Lestrade who was waiting for us beside the body. The police and forensic officers were working the scene as Sherlock and I pulled on our latex gloves. The body of our victim was a large man who was wearing black trousers, a white shirt, black socks, and no shoes.

"D'you reckon this is connected, then? The bomber?" Lestrade asked us as I looked down at the body, opening up my case bag and pulling out my glasses. I slipped them on, blinking slightly before I looked around the scene again. South bank of the Thames. Wouldn't have been found until the tide receded.

"Must be. Odd, though...," Sherlock told him as he held up the pink phone. "...he hasn't been in touch."

"I believe it's safe to assume that it is. I think he is playing this one safe. He wants us to solve the case, but he doesn't want to contact us. For now we should move on with the case and assume he has a hostage," I told the boys and Sherlock nodded before he stepped back and took a long look at the man's body which was lying on his back on a plastic sheet.

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked as I gazed down at the body and tilted my head to the side.

"Seven ... so far," Sherlock told him, smirking at me slightly.

"Seven?!" Lestrade called in disbelief and I giggled slightly.

"I have nine though I'm not sure how a mime works into this yet," I told the boys frowning slightly before shrugging and grinning when they threw me odd looks. "We'll come back to that later," I told them and John shook his head at me before Sherlock and I walked closer to the body and squatted down to examine the man's face closely. Sherlock pulled out his magnifier and started using it as I leaned in closely. I looked at the ripped pocket on the shirt and then started working my way downwards with Sherlock until we reached the man's feet. Sherlock pulled off one of the socks and we examined the sole of his foot, Sherlock holding his magnifier out for me to see through. He lowered the man's food and stood up, pulling me to my feet before he closed his magnifier, he looked across to John and jerked his head down towards the body in a mute order to examine it. John looked enquiringly at Lestrade for permission; the inspector held his hand out in a 'be my guest' gesture. John squatted down beside the body and reached out to take hold of the man's wrist as Sherlock walked a few paces away and got his phone out.

"He's dead about twenty-four hours – maybe a bit longer," John said and he looked up at Lestrade as I walked over to Sherlock and looked over his shoulder. He lowered his mobile slightly so I could see too. "Did he drown?" John asked Lestrade as I read over the results Sherlock had called up.

**Interpol**

**Most Wanted**

**Criminal Organisations**

**Regional Activities**

"Apparently not. Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated," Lestrade told John and I looked up over at him.

"Yes, I'd agree. Lexi?" John asked me as he looked over at me and I nodded at him as I tilted my head to the side.

"I would say he's been dead for closer to 36 hours. I've come to the same conclusion though. He didn't drown, he asphyxiated," I told John and Lestrade, both men nodding slightly at me as I looked back at Sherlock's mobile as he selected the latter option.

**Czech Republic**

**Gangs**

**Information**

**Most Wanted**

**Contact**

"There's quite a bit of bruising around the nose and mouth. More bruises here and here," John said as Sherlock selected the "Most Wanted" option, then looked up as did I as I recalled the small round red marks beside the man's moth and also near his hairline.

"Fingertips," Sherlock said thoughtfully and my eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"A pattern like that would indicate a very large hand," I told Sherlock as John stood up and Sherlock shifted to a new search.

**Missing Persons**

He scrolled through the options:

**Last 36 hrs**

**Age**

**Location**

**Local Search**

"In his late thirties, I'd say. Not in the best condition," John remarked as I looked back over at the body. He wasn't meant to be in good condition. That was the entire reason he had been dropped into the Thames.

"He's been in the river a long while. The water's destroyed most of the data," Sherlock said and I snorted as I looked up at Sherlock.

"Not enough of it though," I told him and he quirked a grin at me.

"But I'll tell you one thing, that lost Vermeer painting's a fake," Sherlock said as he looked over at Lestrade and John. I grinned at him as I twisted slightly from side to side.

"Agreed," I told the consulting detective as Lestrade looked at us in confusion.

"What?" The Detective Inspector asked us and Sherlock ignored him as he continued on with his inquiry.

"We need to identify the corpse. Find out about his friends and associates...," Sherlock said until Lestrade cut him off.

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait. What painting? What are you – what are you two on about?" Lestrade asked us and I raised an eyebrow slightly at him. How did he not know what we were talking about? There had been posters up for weeks. Mycroft said he was going to take me to see the painting on the night it was revealed to the public.

"It's all over the place. Haven't you seen the posters? Dutch Old Master, supposed to have been destroyed centuries ago; now it's turned up. Worth thirty million pounds," Sherlock told Lestrade and I nodded as I looked up at Sherlock.

"Mycroft was trying to get me in to see it before everyone else. They said no," I told Sherlock with a shrug when he looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. So what has that got to do with the stiff?" Lestrade asked us and I frowned at him. "The body," Lestrade corrected himself and I smiled at him and nodded my approval.

"Everything," Sherlock answered his question as he grinned at the Detective Inspector. "Have you ever heard of the Golem?"

"Golem?" Lestrade asked us in confusion which suggested that, no, he had never heard of the Golem.

"It's a horror story, isn't it? What are you saying?" John asked us and I shook my head slightly.

"It's actually a Jewish folk story about a gigantic man made of clay. The Golem was called Josef and could make himself invisible and summon spirits from the dead. He was created by a rabbi to protect the Jewish community. Some version of the story say that the Golem fell in love and when he was rejected he turned into a violent monster. Other versions say that the Golem eventually just went on a murderous rampage until he was finally stopped," I explained to John and Lestrade who blinked back at me with blank expressions.

"It's also the name of an assassin – real name Oskar Dzundza – one of the deadliest assassins in the world," Sherlock told them as he pointed down to the body. "That is his trademark style."

"Aye, it tis. I've studied his style before," I told Sherlock as Lestrade looked back at us in confusion.

"So this is a hit?" Lestrade asked us and I nodded in confirmation.

"Definitely. The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands," Sherlock told them and I pointed down to the body, gesturing to the bruising pattern.

"The bruising patterns indicate a man of substantial size. Dzundza is considered to be a giant. This was a hit," I confirmed and Lestrade shook his head.

"But what has this gotta do with that painting? I don't see...," Lestrade said before Sherlock cut him off, sighing in irritation.

"You do see – you just don't observe," Sherlock snapped in exasperation and I placed a hand on his arm.

"All right, all right, girls, calm down," John stepped in before he threw me a pleading look.

"Yeah don't have a rack attack ladies," I told Sherlock and the D.I. who stopped staring at each other so they could turn and stare at me instead. I raised an eyebrow at them, daring for them to make a comment before I gestured for John to continue. The army doctor was biting back a laugh but he couldn't hide his smile.

"Sherlock? Lexi? D'you wanna take us through it?" John asked us and Sherlock continued to stare at me. He took a moment before he responded and stepped back, pointing to the body.

"What do we know about this corpse? The killer's not left us with much – just the shirt and the trousers. They're pretty formal – maybe he was going out for the night, but the trousers are heavy-duty, polyester, nasty, same as the shirt – cheap. They're both too big for him, so some kind of standard-issue uniform. Dressed for work, then. What kind of work? There's a hook on his belt for a walkie-talkie," Sherlock deduced as I looked over the man and let Sherlock explain what we had both learnt.

"Tube driver?" Lestrade asked and Sherlock threw him a look that blatantly said 'idiot'. I raised my eyebrow at Sherlock as John offered up his own suggestion.

"Security guard?" He asked us and I grinned. He was getting better at this.

"More likely. That'll be borne out by his backside," Sherlock told them and I snorted slightly. There was just something about Sherlock saying backside that sounded odd and not right. I bit my lip to hold back a giggle.

"Backside?!" Lestrade asked him in exasperation and that was when I let a tiny giggle escape. John looked up at me and shook my head as I grinned widely in amusement.

"Flabby. You'd think that he'd led a sedentary life, yet the soles of his feet and the nascent varicose veins in his legs show otherwise," Sherlock said before he looked up at me and gestured for me to take over the explanation.

"So, he did a lot of walking and a lot of sitting around. A security guard is looking good John. Excellent work. His watch helps, too. The alarm shows us that he worked regular night shifts," I explained as I thought back to when Sherlock had pushed the buttons on the man's wristwatch and it showed an alarm time of 2:30.

"Why regular? Maybe he just set his alarm like that the night before he died,' Lestrade said and I shook my head at him quickly as Sherlock picked up the explanation again.

"No-no-no, the buttons are stiff, hardly touched. He set his alarm like that a long time ago. His routine never varied," Sherlock told them and I gestured to the body.

"Which was why it was so easy to kill him. Routine never varied so it was easy enough to find the perfect moment to kill him," I added and Sherlock nodded before he continued on.

"But there's something else. The killer must have been interrupted, otherwise he would have stripped the corpse completely. There was some kind of badge or insignia on the shirt front that he tore off, suggesting the dead man worked somewhere recognizable, some kind of institution," Sherlock said as he took something from his pocket. "We've found this inside his trouser pockets," Sherlock told them as he showed him the scrunched-up ball of paper we had found. "Sodden by the river but still recognizably ...," Sherlock said, trailing off as John peered at the ball of paper.

"Tickets?" He asked us and I shook my head slightly.

"No, ticket stubs, but good John, very good," I told the army doctor who looked proud at my praise.

"He worked in a museum or gallery. Did a quick check – the Hickman Gallery has reported one of its attendants as missing," Sherlock told them as he pointed down to the body. "Alex Woodbridge. Tonight they unveil the re-discovered masterpiece. Now why would anyone want to pay the Golem to suffocate a perfectly ordinary gallery attendant?" Sherlock asked them before gesturing for me to answer him.

"We can infer the answer from what we already know. Woodbridge knew something about it – something that would have stopped the owner getting paid their thirty million pounds. He had to go. Conclusion, the picture's a fake," I concluded and John looked at us in awe as did Lestrade.

"Fantastic," John told us admiringly.

"Elementary," I told him with a grin.

"Meretricious," Sherlock told him, shrugging, apparently still peeved about our earlier argument.

"And a Happy New Year!" Lestrade said behind us. John threw him a 'seriously?!' look. Lestrade grinned sheepishly, then John looked down at the body again.

"Poor sod," He remarked as I took off my glasses and stored them back into my case bag.

"I'd better get my feelers out for this Golem character," Lestrade said as he looked around the scene one more time.

"Pointless. You'll never find him. But I know a man and a woman who can," Sherlock told him and I grinned at Lestrade.

"Who?" Lestrade asked is in confusion and I internally groaned.

"Us," Sherlock told him grinning as he took my hand and the both of us turned and walked away. I looked over my shoulder at out army doctor and John sighed, his entire body radiating 'Oh, here we go again', but he dutifully followed after us. Things were just starting to heat up and it would appear that our bomber was being more careful. The only problem with that was that he was now on his guard. This wasn't so easy for him anymore and just once, we had very nearly come close to finding out who he was. I looked out at the river and tilted my head slightly. Moriarty. I was starting to remember where I knew the name from.


	52. The Golem

**HELLO SWEETIES!**

**Can you tell that I am excited? 'Cos I am. Today marks the eight month I have been posting this story and the day I post the 50th chapter. Of course I've written far more than just 50 chapters and just finished the Sign of Three, finally I might add. I am unbelievably grateful and would like to think each and every one of you. I never thought I would get this far with this story. I hardly thought anyone was going to read it but look at all of you! You are all fantastic, and you know what? So am I! To celebrate and because I'm not cruel and won't make you wait, the suspense is killing me too, I am posting another chapter on THURSDAY and then again on SATURDAY closing off the Great Game. I've also got three mini chapters that will be posted between Saturday and Tuesday which marks the beginning of Scandal in Belgravia. I have one case left to write, Their Last Vow. I am both sad and really psyched to get to write it. I'm going to take my time with it because I want it to be perfect for all of you. Got some brilliant ideas for how I change things in it so once we get to that point...it'll be great. Look at that Tuesday we finally hit season two. Just as well, we're already 50 chapters in. In all fairness, this is book one. Scandal in Belgravia starts book two but I'm keeping it all together in one place for easier readability. **

**ALLONS-Y & LOTS OF LOVE**

**Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty- The Golem<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The three of us sat in the back of a cab and Sherlock was looking at the pink phone in frustration. We still hadn't received a call from our bomber so we could only assume that this was one of his cases as well. I had a really bad feeling about this. Something told me that because we had almost learnt something about him, he was going to retaliate. I didn't know how, but I felt like it was going to happen. Our bomber specifically tried to stay above everything. He planned it all, but he did none of the actual work himself. More than a man. A man with an organization. Slowly, very slowly I was starting to remember something, something about the name Moriarty. It had something to do with Dublin, but it was patchy at best right now. I could remember a case. It was connected to a case I worked in Dublin before I moved to London but for the life of me I couldn't remember a thing about it which worried me. I could always remember anything. If I couldn't remember it and it wasn't in my Mind Palace…. I didn't even want to think about what that might mean.

"Why hasn't he phoned? He's broken his pattern. Why?" Sherlock said in frustration and I looked over at him, breaking out of my own inner musings.

"I told you Lock. He's being careful this time around. Which is very bad news for us. More careful also means more dangerous," I told Sherlock and a thought suddenly seemed to strike him and he leaned forward to the taxi driver.

"Waterloo Bridge," He told him before sitting back in his seat next to me.

"Where now? The Gallery?" John asked us and Sherlock shook his head.

"In a bit," He told him as I raised my eyebrow slightly, trying to figure out what was going through that brilliant mind of his. Certainly we had several things to figure out. First, we had to find the Golem, second we had to figure out why the painting was a fake, and third we had to find out who our bomber was. There was just too much to do and not enough time.

"The Hickman's contemporary art, isn't it? Why have they got hold of an Old Master?" John asked us and I looked over at him and frowned. He was right. The Hickman gallery was all contemporary art. It was rather strange that they were the ones to have gotten a hold of an Old Master.

"Dunno. Dangerous to jump to conclusions. Need data," Sherlock told him as he took a notebook from his pocket scribbled something on a page before tearing it out and folding a bank note inside it.

"You have a point though John, but as Sher said we can't jump to any conclusions just yet," I told John as Sherlock put the paper into his pocket, then a few seconds later called out to the driver.

"Stop!" He shouted and the cabbie pulled over to the side of the road. "You wait here. I won't be a moment," He told John before grabbing my hand. "Lexi, come with me," He told me as he slid out of the cabbie and I let him help me out. He went over to the railings at the edge of the pavement and easily vaulted over them before reaching across and picking me up by the waist, easily lifting me up and over the railings. I grinned as he set me down on my feet.

"Sherlock...," John said as he also got out of the cab to follow after us. I looked back over my shoulder at out army doctor as Sherlock walked over, leading me alongside him. John shook his head in exasperation, then scrambled over the railings and followed after is. I turned back around as Sherlock and I trotted up some steps to where a young homeless woman was sitting on a bench under Waterloo Bridge. She had a large bag beside her with a handwritten cardboard sign poking out of the top. The first two words on the sign said, "HUNGRY AND." Presumably the next word, obscured by some of her possessions, was 'HOMELESS'.

"Change? Any change?' The girl asked us as I looked up at Sherlock.

"What for?" Sherlock asked her and I tilted my head to the side as I watched him.

"Cup of tea, of course," She responded and Sherlock handed her the piece of paper from his pocket.

"Here you go – fifty," He told her and I smiled slightly. This was the Sherlock that others didn't see. I was happy to be the one to see it.

"Thanks," The girl said smiling at him as a cold breeze came off of the water. I noticed the girl shiver and I let go of Sherlock's hand and reached up, pulling off my scarf.

"Bit cold out today," I told her as I handed her over my scarf which she took nervously from me. "You'll want to bundle up," I told her and she smiled at me in admiration.

"Thank you," She told me as she wrapped the scarf around her neck tightly and I nodded at her.

"You're welcome," I told her with a smile as I took Sherlock's hand again. We immediately turned and walked away again. John looked at us in bewilderment before turning and following after us, pointing back towards the girl.

"What are you doing?" John asked us and I looked at him with a slight grin on my face.

"Investing," Sherlock told him and John looked back at the homeless girl as Sherlock and I walked back over to the railing. He easy leapt over them again before he lifted me up and over them as if he was worried that I would hurt myself if I attempted to get over it myself. He opened the door of the cab and let me slide in first. "Now we go to the Gallery," Sherlock told John as he stopped and looked back at our blogger. "Have you got any cash?" Sherlock asked him and I chuckled from the interior of the cab.

"I do. Get in," I told him and Sherlock slid into the cab, John following after him. We told the cabbie to take us to the Hickman Gallery and he pulled out back onto the road as Sherlock reached up and took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. I looked up at him and grinned slightly before snuggling into his side, breathing in his scent which carried on his scarf. "Thanks Lock," I told him and I felt the rumble of his hum of acknowledgement in his chest as my head rested over his heart. We stayed that way for the rest of the cab ride and I only pulled myself from Sherlock's side when the cab pulled up outside the gallery and Sherlock and I slid from the cab. John was about to get out as well, but Sherlock stopped him.

"No. I need you to find out all you can about the gallery attendant. Lestrade will give you the address," Sherlock told him and John nodded at him.

"Okay," He answered as I made to get back into the cab before Sherlock stopped me by reaching down and taking my hand in his.

"Shouldn't I go with him?" I asked Sherlock in confusion as I looked up at him and he shook his head.

"No, I need you with me," Sherlock told me and John nodded and closed the cab door before Sherlock pulled me away towards the gallery as I had a wide grin on my face at those three words that were so simple, but meant so much to me.

**John's POV**

A woman, Alex's roommate, led John into Alex's tiny attic bedroom after showing him inside their flat. His room was messy with clothes scattered everywhere, and near the window which looked up into the sky was a large object covered with a sheet. It only took John saying he was looking into Alex's death with Scotland Yard for the woman to let him inside, something John was going to make a point of telling Lexi later. You didn't always have to lie to get people to talk to you. You could actually tell the truth and get the same results. It was clear from Alex's room that he didn't do much tidying up.

"We'd been sharing about a year. Just sharing," Alex's roommate, Julie, told John who hummed in response. Julie stopped and gestured around the room. John walked in and looked around, not touching anything. He looked at the sheet-covered object and pointed to it.

"May I?" John asked Julie and she nodded at him.

"Yeah," She said and John tried to lift just the top of the sheet but it slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

"Sorry," John apologized as he looked at the telescope on a tripod which had been revealed. "Stargazer, was he?" John asked Julie, raising his eyebrow slightly.

"God, yeah. Mad about it. It's all he ever did in his spare time," Julie told him, looking away sadly. "He was a nice guy, Alex. I liked him," Julie said as she looked around the room. "He was, er, never much of a one for hovering," Julie tried to joke and she laughed nervously. John smiled at her, then pulled a face as she looked away.

"What about art? Did he know anything about that?" John asked her, fishing around to see if Alex might have known how to tell if the painting was a fake or not.

"It was just a job, you know?" Julie told him, shaking her head and John hummed thoughtfully. He bent down and peered at the items on the bedside table.

"Has anyone else been round asking about Alex?" John asked, the thought occurring to him that maybe someone might have been trying to find out what he knew before they killed him.

"No. We had a break-in, though," Julie told him and John straightened up.

"Hmm? When?" He asked her curiously.

"Last night. There was nothing taken. Oh – there was a message left for Alex on the landline," Julie told him suddenly and John perked up at this. They had a break in the night Alex was murdered, but nothing was taken and then someone left him a message. Possibly it could be a lead.

"Who was it from?" John asked her and she looked back at him.

"Well, I can play it for you if you like. I'll get the phone," She told him, gesturing to the hall.

"Please," John told her and she left the room briefly before coming back with the phone and played the message.

"Oh, should I speak now? Alex? Love, it's Professor Cairns. Listen, you were right. You were bloody right! Give us a call when…," A woman said over the phone before the message ended.

"Professor Cairns?" John asked Julie to see if she knew who the woman was.

"No, no idea, sorry," Julie told him and John hummed slightly in response.

"Can I try and ring back?" John asked her and she shook her head slightly.

"Well, no good. I mean, I've had other calls since – sympathy ones, you know," Julie told him and John nodded. Julie left the room again just as John's phone trilled a text alert. He got the phone out and looked at the message which read:

**RE: BRUCE-PARTINGTON PLANS**

**Have you spoken to West's fiancée yet?**

**Mycroft Holmes**

John grimaced and put the phone away again. Looks like he had another place to go after this.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I snuck our way around to the employee entrance of the gallery and slipped inside the back. We managed to slip around two gallery attendants who were talking in the hall and make it back to the locker rooms. Sherlock picked the lock on two lockers and found security guard uniforms inside them which he took out and put on the bench behind us. The best way to go unnoticed was to wear the colours or in this case the uniform. I set down my case bag on the bench as Sherlock started shrugging out of his jacket. I stopped him as soon as he reached for the buttons of his shirt and started undoing them.

"Sherlock!" I hissed as I turned around quickly in embarrassment.

"What?" He asked me and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"You could have at least told me what you were going to do," I told him as I kept my back turned away from him.

"It was obvious what I was about to do," Sherlock told me before I felt him move closer to me so he was standing with his chest only a few inches from my back. "Does nudity alarm you?" Sherlock whispered into my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck, and I shiver involuntarily. I snorted to cover up this fact before I turned around and was met with the skin of his bare chest.

"No," I told him, proud of myself that I was able to keep my voice steady as I looked away from Sherlock's chest and up at his eyes. The smug bastard had a smirk on his face. "I was of the impression it would alarm you more," I countered as I slid out of my jacket and threw it across the bench with his without looking before pulling off his scarf and tossing that over as well. Sherlock stepped away from me and I watched him closely as I pulled my jumper over my head, leaving me in just my tank top which was a lot tighter on my curves than the thick jumper. I smiled in smug satisfaction while his cheeks turned slightly pink and he cleared his throat slightly before he promptly turned around. I snorted before I likewise turned around and started stripping out of my tank top and jeans. I reached around for the uniform shirt and I pulled it on first. It was huge on me and I groaned before hearing Sherlock turn around. "Look at this," I told Sherlock as I turned. My face heated up slightly as he was just doing up the zipper on his trousers and he was still shirtless. Sherlock chuckled at me and I sighed before picking up my trousers and pulling them on, not even bothering to turn around again as the shirt went almost all the way down to my knees. I tucked it into the trousers before belting them tightly around my waist. Even then they slipped down a bit so they were resting against my hips. Thank God for being a woman. I pulled out a clip from my case bag and quickly twisted my hair up into a bun before Sherlock plopped the security guard's hat onto my head and pulled it into place. I laughed and he chuckled at me as I pulled his hat from his hands and put it on his head. "Very nice," I told Sherlock and he helped me slide into the jacket before pulling on his own. I drew the line at changing shoes as did he so we both pulled our own back on.

Sherlock and I stowed our clothes and my case bag away in the lockers before we walked out back into the hall and into the stairwell. We were able to walk by people without drawing suspicion now. We found our way to a large white-painted room as we exited the stairs from a side door after inquiring from someone where we could find the Old Master. People were slightly daft as always and didn't suspect a thing. There was no other artwork or furniture of any kind in the room, but free-standing posts were roped together to form a path to Vermeer painting. Sherlock and I walked up to it and stood in front of it and I grinned as I took in the sight of the painting. It was beautiful. Looks like I wouldn't need to go with Mycroft to the gallery opening now. I got to see it before everyone else. Sherlock took out his mobile from where he had stashed it in his pocket and snapped a quick picture of the painting before tucking his mobile away again. We leaned in closer to the painting and stood there even as we heard footsteps behind us. The footsteps stopped a few feet behind us but neither of us turned around.

"Don't you have something to do?" A woman asked us in a distinctive Eastern European accent.

"Just admiring the view," Sherlock told her as he looked over at me and I smirked slightly as I stared at the painting, missing that he had looked at me when he said this.

"It is a sight to behold," I told him and he hummed slightly in agreement.

"Yes. Lovely. Now get back to work. We open tonight," The woman told us and Sherlock looked over his shoulder at her before we both turned around and walked towards her.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Sherlock asked us and she looked back at us in confusion.

"What?" She asked us and I tilted my head to the side as I regarded her and deduced her.

"Well, that the painting is a fake. I know that would bother me," I told her and I watched for her reaction. The way people reacted to certain news was very telling.

"What?" She asked me angrily and Sherlock cut into the conversation again.

"It's a fake. It has to be. It's the only possible explanation," Sherlock told her as we both walked closer to her. Sherlock took a look briefly at her I.D. badge. "You're in charge, aren't you, Miss Wenceslas?" Sherlock asked her as I watched the woman inquisitively.

"Who are you two?" Miss Wenceslas asked us and Sherlock got right up into her face and stared into her eyes in an attempt to be intimidating which worked perfectly with his height.

"Alex Woodbridge knew that the painting was a fake, so somebody sent the Golem to take care of him. Was it you?" Sherlock asked her and she looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Golem? What the hell are you talking about?" She asked him and I noted her use of an expletive. She was getting defensive.

"I think you know exactly what we are talking about," I told her and she looked at me her eyes widening slightly as Sherlock continued on with our interrogation of her.

"Or are you working for someone else? Did you fake it for them?" Sherlock asked her and my brain immediately flashed to an image of me standing in front of a desk, a black phone in front of me as I braced my arms on the desk and stared at it as if I was waiting. The words, "Did you do it for him?" came to mind before I blinked and was pulled back to the present as Miss Wenceslas spoke again.

"It's not a fake."

"It is a fake. Don't know why, but there's something wrong with it. There has to be," Sherlock said and I hummed in agreement. He was right after all.

"Not sure either yet, but it is a fake. Give me a bit and it'll come to me," I told Sherlock before Miss Wenceslas cut me off and started talking over me.

"What the hell are you two on about? You know, I could have you two sacked on the spot," Miss Wenceslas told us and I shrugged at her nonchalantly.

"Not a problem," Sherlock told her causally.

"No?" Miss Wenceslas asked us in disbelief as she raised one of her eyebrows.

"No. We don't work here, you see. Just popped in to give you a bit of friendly advice," Sherlock told us and she looked back at us in shock.

"How did you get in?" She demanded of us and Sherlock smirked and her as he shrugged slightly.

"Please," Sherlock told her scornfully.

"I've managed to break into Buckingham Place before. Next to that your security is child's play. You might want to fix that," I told Miss Wenceslas with a grin and she looked back at me with a look of scepticism.

"I want to know," Miss Wenceslas demanded and I raised an eyebrow at her as I stared at her pointedly.

"The art of disguise is knowing how to hide in plain sight," Sherlock told her as he turned and began to walk away after taking my hand in his and took off his cap.

"Like wolves in sheep's clothing," I remarked as I took off my own hat and the clip holding my hair up and let my hair cascade down around me.

"Who are you people?" Miss Wenceslas asked us and I smirked at her.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock told her as he dropped his cap onto the top of one of the railing posts and I dropped mine on the floor as we continued onwards.

"Alexandria MacKenna," I threw over my shoulder as Sherlock and I broke our hand hold.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Miss Wenceslas scoffed and I snorted.

"You should be," Sherlock told her as he took off his jacket and then looked round at her as he deliberately dropped it on the floor.

"Very," I told her as I dropped my coat on top of his. We reached the doors and Sherlock flamboyantly shoved one open, almost dancing out of the room.

"Have a nice day!" Sherlock told her before he grabbed my hand and pulled me with him out of the room. I giggled as soon as we got out into the stair well and started heading back to the locker room to get our own clothes back. We quickly changed back into our own clothes, the process just as embarrassing for the both of us as it was the first time before we left the gallery and started on foot in the direction of Baker Street. We held hands as we walked and I looked up at Sherlock with a grin on my face which softened to a fond smile. I was irrevocably, unconditionally, beyond any chance of the logical side of my brain warning me against it, in love with Sherlock Holmes… and I was starting to think that he might feel the same way.

**John's POV**

John was sitting on the sofa beside Andrew West's fiancée, Lucy. After leaving Alex Woodbridge's flat he had taken a cab across the city to meet with the woman as Mycroft wanted him too. If Sherlock and Lexi wouldn't take the case, he would at least try to help in any way he could. Mycroft had said that it was of national importance after all. How hard could it be? Police officers solved cases all the time. He might not be a detective, but he wasn't stupid either. Lexi had also been teaching him a few things from time to time. He didn't understand what she was talking about most of the time, but she seemed to think that he was improving. John had already been there long enough for West's fiancée to make him tea. John had tried to explain to Lucy and ask her if it was at all possible if Andrew had given the sold the flash drive to anyone. The odds were most likely that West had decided to sell government secrets.

"He wouldn't. He just wouldn't," Lucy told him, getting defensive and emotional.

"Well, stranger things have happened," John told her gently, trying to calm the woman down.

"Westie wasn't a traitor. It's a horrible thing to say!" Lucy told him angrily and John inwardly sighed.

"I'm sorry, but you must understand that's ...," John said before Lucy cut him off.

"That's what they think, isn't it, his bosses?" Lucy asked him indignantly and John nodded slowly.

"He was a young man, about to get married. He had debts...," John tried again, but Lucy cut him off again like the first time.

"Everyone's got debts; and Westie wouldn't wanna clear them by selling out his country," Lucy told him, still sounding angry. John thought it best to change the subject. He wouldn't find out anything if he upset her.

"Can you, um, can you tell me exactly what happened that night?" John asked her carefully and Lucy took a deep breath, calming down slightly, before she answered his question.

"We were having a night in, just watching a DVD," Lucy told him, smiling at the memory. "He normally falls asleep, you know, but he sat through this one. He was quiet," Lucy continued, becoming tearful. "Out of the blue, he said he just had to go and see someone."

"And you've no idea who?" John asked her and she shook her head and began to cry.

"No, he won't tell me," Lucy told John who sat there awkwardly as she continued to cry. He carefully put a hand on her shoulder and waited a few moments until she took a deep breath and calmed down. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

"No, no you've been a big help," John told her and Lucy nodded. "I should probably go meet with my colleagues and give them this new information," John told Lucy and she nodded again.

"Right. I'll show you out," Lucy told him as she and the army doctor got up and she showed John to the door. She opened the door and showed John out just as a cycle courier walked along the pavement towards the house, wheeling his pushbike.

"Oh, hi, Luce. You okay, love?" The man asked Lucy and she nodded at him, obviously knowing him.

"Yeah," Lucy told him, wiping her eyes slightly.

"Who's this?" The guy asked her eyeing John critically.

"John Watson. Hi," John introduced himself with a brief nod.

"This is my brother, Joe," Lucy introduced John to the other man before she turned back to her brother. "John's trying to find out what happened to Westie, Joe."

"You with the police?" Joe asked him, looking him up and down.

"Uh, sort of, yeah," John told him, not knowing exactly how to explain to him what he did. John wasn't even sure what he did anymore.

"Well, tell 'em to get off their arses, will you? It's bloody ridiculous," John told him and John nodded at him slightly.

"I'll do my best," John assured him and Joe nodded before he turned and put a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder for a moment before wheeling his bike inside the house. John cleared his throat and stepped closer to Lucy. "Well, er, thanks very much for your help; and again, I'm very, very sorry," John told her and he turned to leave but Lucy called out to him.

"He didn't steal those things, Mr. Watson," Lucy called after him and John turned back to her. "I knew Westie. He was a good man," Lucy told him before she started to cry again. "He was my good man," She finished before she turned and went back inside. John started walking away again and his phone trilled with a text alert.

**Baker Street come at once if convenient, if inconvenient come anyway. -LM**

John shook his head and made for the main road. He managed to find a taxi and took it back to Baker Street to meet up with the two detectives. Speaking of the two detectives John wasn't quite sure what was going on between them. Since this case started there was some sort of tension hanging between them. John was of the opinion that they should just realize they had a thing for each other and be done with it, but he rather doubted that either of them were just going to say it. Neither of them seem to realize that they each cared for one another even though it was so obvious to everyone else. They sat together, they cuddled, only Lexi could calm Sherlock down when he was in one of his moods, and John wasn't absolutely sure but he thought that Lexi had slept in Sherlock's room more than once. John sat in the back of his cab as it headed along Baker Street and looked further up the road where the homeless girl from earlier was standing by the railings on the other side of Speedy's, shaking a paper cup at people as they pass by. She said something, probably along the lines of "Spare change?" as Sherlock and Lexi came out of 221, Lexi now wearing a green plaid scarf, and stopped, looking down the road towards her. John's cab pulled up and he leaned forward and paid the cabbie before he got out and the two detectives walked over to him.

"Alex Woodbridge didn't know anything special about art," John told Sherlock and Lexi who weren't holding hands but were standing so close to one another that their shoulders were touching. John smirked slightly to himself upon seeing it, knowing he was right. Neither of them was ever far from the other and there was also the fact that Sherlock wasn't letting Lexi out of his sight.

"And?" Sherlock prompted him and John frowned in confusion.

"And...," John said, trailing off when Sherlock looked towards the girl again and started to head towards her with Lexi while still talking to John.

"Is that it? No habits, hobbies, personality?" Sherlock listed off quickly and Lexi looked up at Sherlock and raised her eyebrow at the slight bit of bite in his voice.

"No, give me a chance! He was an amateur astronomer," John told him and Sherlock stopped dead and turned, pointing towards the cab that John had just gotten out of.

"Hold that cab," Sherlock directed him and John trotted back to the taxi while Sherlock and Lexi walked over to the homeless girl.

"Spare change, sir?" She asked Sherlock and Sherlock grinned.

"Don't mind if I do," Sherlock told her as John leaned to look into the window of the cab.

"Can you wait here?" John asked the cabbie as the girl handed Sherlock a piece of paper. The consulting detective unfolding it and read whatever she had written on it before showing it to Lexi. The two detectives smiled briefly before they both turned and walked back to John.

"Fortunately, we haven't been idle," Sherlock told the army doctor as he opened the door to the cab and let Lexi slide in first before he got in as well. "Come on," He told John and the army doctor climbed into the cab and it headed off across London to their next destination.

**Lexi's POV**

The cab brought us to the Vauxhall Arches which is where the homeless girl, Sarah, had found out through the network that the Golem was hiding. After we had left the gallery Sherlock and I had walked back to Baker Street and Sherlock had pulled me into a store as we passed by it and had bought me a new scarf, choosing one that was plaid like my old one but in green. After that we had continued on our walk and he had acted like it never happened. He explained to me on our walk about his Homeless network which he used to gather information. He told me that he had asked Sarah to ask around to find out where the Golem might be staying as he would have to be laying low. After that Sherlock had taken me to meet with a few of his other contacts in the Homeless Network and he introduced me to them and told them that any information they had for him they could also give to me. We stopped in at the chippy at the end of Baker Street and sat, enjoying a few minutes to breathe and just chat. We started talking about music, staying away from topics about the case as we ate our chips.

Sherlock was both a classical music fan and an eighties rock band fan though he claimed most of that was during his Uni days. I had laughed as I tried to picture a younger Sherlock in a dorm room, blaring rock music. I told him of the Irish bands I listened to and a story about when I was a girl and my granddad had attempted to teach me how to play the bagpipes, the lesson ending terribly. That led into a discussion about Sherlock asking me when I started playing the viola. I explained to him that my granddad had gotten me my first viola for my tenth birthday and he had taught me how to play. Sherlock, at my insistence, told me that he learned to play the violin just to spite his brother. Mycroft had apparently been attempting to learn and Sherlock, after watching the lessons, had gone over to the violin, picked it up and started playing. Mummy Holmes having heard him and recognized his talent had continued on with his lessons all throughout secondary school and wouldn't let him give it up. Sherlock had studied music further at Uni before he switched his major to Chemistry.

That led into another discussion about Uni. Sherlock had started at the age of fifteen as Mummy Holmes refused to let him start any earlier even if he was bored in all of his classes. Sherlock asked me why I had gone for so many degrees and I explained to him that it was my way of staying at Uni longer as I didn't want to have to move back in with my father. At nineteen after I obtained my last degree I had left Uni as I was old enough to finally live on my own without having to depend upon my father. My friend Mary whom I had met at seventeen moved with me to Dublin and I started taking cases there in the city, working with the police as I tried to set up my consulting job as Mary worked as a nurse. Then at twenty-four I decided to leave Dublin and try my hand at working in London. Mary moved back to Scotland as she had loved it there. Sherlock told me about how he got started in his consulting business at twenty-two and about his struggles with Mycroft always trying to control his life. He told me about how he had met Lestrade and worked cases for him until he was forced to leave. We skirted around any and all talk about our addictions. We weren't ready to talk about that with each other and we might never be.

My thoughts were drawn back to the present as we walked along, Sherlock buttoning his coat as he gazed up at the sky. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Sherlock asked us and John and I looked up at the stars. I grinned as I took a step closer to Sherlock and slid my hand into his, linking our fingers together.

"I thought you didn't care about things like that," John commented as I continued to look up at the stars. There was something beautiful about them and so very far away as many things felt to me sometimes.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it," Sherlock told him and because I was still looking up, I didn't notice that Sherlock had looked at me when he said this. We started walking into the Arches and Sherlock kept me close by him as we weren't sure exactly what we were walking into. I was however prepared for anything. I had been trained well.

"Listen, Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answerphone at his flat – a Professor Cairns?" John told us and Sherlock gestured with his head, ignoring what John had told us. I did however mark the name.

"This way," Sherlock told John as he led us down through the Arches. John nodded his head as he looked around the place.

"Nice! Nice part of town," John said sarcastically and I snorted at this comment and rolled my eyes. Criminals didn't always frequent the nice parts of town. You had to get used to these sorts of places. "Er, any time you wanna explain," John told us sounding slightly annoyed.

"Homeless network – really is indispensable," Sherlock explained to him as John got a small flashlight from his pocket and switched it on.

"Homeless network?" John asked Sherlock and I nodded, despite the fact that I wasn't sure if he could see me or not.

"My eyes and ears all over the city," Sherlock answered him as I looked up at Sherlock and grinned.

"Oh, that's clever. So you scratch their backs and...," John said before Sherlock cut him off as I rummaged around in my case bag.

"Yes, then I disinfect myself," Sherlock told him and I giggled quietly as I handed him over a torch. He turned it on and shined it around as we continued into the darkness of the Arches. Sherlock pulled me tighter to him so I was flush up against his side. John and Sherlock's beams picked out homeless people all around the place, most of them settling down for the night. Suddenly, in the distance, the shadow of a man showed on a wall as he began to stand up. The man was incredibly tall just as I suspected that he would have to be with hands of the size he did.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" John hissed in warning and Sherlock pulled me along with him quickly.

"Come on!" Sherlock whispered to John as we ducked to the side of a wall as the man continued straightening up for what seemed like ages until he was over seven feet tall.

"What's he doing sleeping rough?" John asked us in a whisper as Sherlock and I carefully peered around the corner.

"Well, he has a very distinctive look. He has to hide somewhere where tongues won't wag – much," Sherlock said and I hummed quietly in agreement

"That and he is a wanted man. He can't exactly stay anywhere else," I added as I looked back at John who was looking down as if he was realizing that he was missing something.

"Oh shi…," John said as Sherlock took John's pistol from his coat pocket.

"What?" Sherlock asked him quickly, cutting him off as I pulled my own gun from my case bag. I did come prepared after all.

"I wish I'd...," John said as Sherlock handed him his gun.

"Don't mention it," Sherlock told him as the man suddenly broke into a run and hurried away down another tunnel. We chased across towards where he was and I let go of Sherlock's hand, putting on a burst of speed and flying in front of the two men. We reached the tunnel just in time to see him climbing into a waiting car which immediately speed off. I fired two shots at the car, one missing, but the other going through the rear window of the car. Unfortunately it didn't seem to do anything to stop them. Sherlock punched the air in frustration as I shook my head. "No, no, no, no! It'll take us weeks to find him again," Sherlock said as I lowered my gun and sighed in frustration.

"Or not. I have an idea where he might be going," John told us and Sherlock and I both snapped our heads up to the army doctor.

"What?" Sherlock asked John in disbelief.

"I told you, someone left Alex Woodbridge a message. There can't be that many Professor Cairns in the book. Come on," John told us before we hurried off into the dark streets of London. Time was starting to run out on this case. We hadn't been given a time limit this time but I doubted that we had any more than a few hours left to put the pieces together and solve the case.

**Third Person POV**

Professor Cairns was alone in the planetarium's theatre. As Gustav Holst's "Mars" played over the sound system, she was standing at the mixing desk and watching footage of the film which was played to visitors. Other than the light coming from the projector, the room was in darkness.

"Jupiter, the fifth planet in our solar system and the largest. Jupiter is a gas giant. Planet Earth would fit into it eleven times," The narrator on the footage said.

"Yes, we know that," Cairns said, her tone bored as she stopped the recording and fast-forwarded it for a moment before starting the playback again.

"Titan is the largest moon," The narrator continued and Cairns fast-forwarded the recording again.

"Come on, Neptune, where're you hiding?" She said as behind her, a hand pushed open the door to the theatre. A moment later, just as Cairns started the playback again, the door banged shut. She looks round quickly as the recording started again.

"Many are actually long dead ...," The narrator said as Cairns peered up to the projection room.

"Tom? Is that you?" She asked while in the background the recording still played.

"...exploded into supernovas," The narrator continued as she turned back to the desk. Behind her a long arm reached out towards her. "...discovered by Urbain Le Verrier in eighteen forty-six," The recording continued as a tall figure stepped up behind Cairns and clamped one hand over her mouth and nose, pulling her backwards.

"Oh my God!" Cairns cried, her voice muffled as she clawed at the hand, crying out in muffled panic, her other hand flailing out and dragging several of the sliders down the mixing desk. The footage began to jump randomly as her attacker continued to suffocate her.

"...composed mainly of hydrogen. Their light takes so long to reach us...," The narration continued as Cairns struggled for her life.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock, John, and I raced into the theatre through another door. We had found out where Cairns worked and when we got to the planetarium we were told that she was going into the theatre to do some work. We had rushed over as quickly as we could but I had a feeling we would be too late. My thoughts were confirmed as we ran in to find the Golem smothering Cairns. John stopped quickly and aimed his pistol towards her attacker as Sherlock yelled at the top of his voice trying to get his attention.

"Golem!" He shouted as some sort of recording skipped and started playing in the background.

"...many are actually long-dead, exploded into supernovas," The narrator on the recording said as the Golem looked up, grunted in surprise at seeing us, then snapped Cairns' neck and dropped her to the floor. Her fingers dragged along the mixing desk as she fell and the footage that was playing went into fast-forward, plunging the theatre into darkness. The Golem ducked down out of sight and I quickly moved into a defensive stance as I held my gun level with my eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. I pulled my torch out and held it above my gun in a way that Lestrade would.

"John! Lexi!" Sherlock called to us as we were all separated by the darkness in the room.

"I can't see him. I'll go round. I'll go!" John shouted and I felt a flash of fear in me.

"Be careful!" I shouted after him as the footage continued spooling and then stopped and played before spooling again, light came and went in the room. Sherlock stared around as John hurried off and I nodded at him as I kept my gun level and looked around with my torch as well, carefully walking a little ways forward, further away from Sherlock.

"Who are you working for this time, Dzundza?" Sherlock called loudly and I turned around as I heard something move behind me to see the Golem behind him. The Golem stepped out of the fluctuating darkness and clamped one hand around Sherlock's mouth and nose while gripping his neck with the other before I could warn Sherlock. Sherlock grabbed at the hand on his face, struggling to pull it free as he was slowly suffocated. John raced over and stopped in front of them with me, his pistol held in both hands as I took the same stance. Sherlock was struggling too much for me to get a clear shot. If I fired I might actually shoot him instead.

"Golem!" John shouted his hands and voice steady as he and I cocked our guns and pointed them at the Golem's face. "Let him go, or I will kill you," John commanded as I glared at the Golem.

"And if he doesn't I will," I told the Golem, my voice steady as he looked over at me and smirked in amusement.

Sherlock, whimpering in his efforts, continued trying to pull the man's hand from his face. The Golem swung him around to the left and lashed out with his long right leg during a moment of darkness, kicking the pistol from John's hands. I heard it crash to the floor just before something collided with my right shoulder. I cried out in pain as I felt my shoulder pop out of joint and I dropped my gun and torch as well as I reached up to clutch my arm. The Golem dropped Sherlock to the ground and then he surged forward and wrestled with John. As Sherlock got to his feet, the Golem shoved John into him, sending both of the boys tumbling to the floor. The Golem lashed out at me next and I ducked under his punch quickly, but on my way back up he shoved me, sending me crashing down to the floor and I landed on my dislocated shoulder with a cry of pain. Sherlock scrambled up again and took up a boxing stance in front of him, holding his fists up. He swung a punch at the man but the Golem grabbed his hand and swung his other arm down heavily onto Sherlock's shoulder, dropping him to the floor yet again. I managed to haul myself to my feet despite the agonizing pain in my shoulder as the Golem followed Sherlock down to the ground and clamped both hands onto his face, leaning his weight onto them. Behind him, John threw himself onto his back as I looked around for my gun, unable to see it in the flickering light. The Golem roared, releasing Sherlock as he clawed at John who was desperately clinging to him. He stood up with John still clinging to his back and spun around several times before finally managing to shake him off onto the floor. I finally found my gun and rushed over to pick it up, grasping it in my left hand through I normally shot with my right. I knew I would be of little use to actually try and attack the Golem without a weapon. He had proven when he dislocated my shoulder and shoved me to the floor that he was far stronger than I was. As John groggily tried to get up, the Golem turned, picked up Sherlock and skimmed him across the floor towards John. The Golem turned towards me next as I cradled my arm to my chest and held my gun to him, he made to walk in my direction before he seemed to think me not worth his trouble anymore and ran for the door. As Sherlock slid across the floor while the Golem was making his decision to attack me or not he grabbed at the pistol John had dropped and managed to pick it up. The Golem ran for the doors and I turned my gun on him as Sherlock rolled over onto his back and fired twice towards him. I fired at the Golem three times and I heard the Golem make a noise as I hit him in the leg. It was not a cry of pain but more a grunt of surprise. The Golem made it to the doors and disappeared through them as I breathed heavily and lowered my gun, clutching my arm so as not to jar my shoulder.

"...long dead, exploded into supernovas," The recording repeated as the image of a supernova dramatically exploded on the screen behind Sherlock who angrily slammed his hand down on the floor in front of him. I met Sherlock's gaze and I nodded at him as I slowed the frantic beating of my heart brought on by the sudden burst of adrenalin. It was time to end this.


	53. Whispers

**Hello sweeties!**

**So, I know I said I was going to post this on Thursday, it's technically Wednesday night, but I finally am going for my MRI tomorrow. Yea! Answers soon hopefully. This is our last option. If this comes back with nothing then... well, there is a big question mark and we won't know what is causing this or how to fix it. So because I have to get up early for that and I have several meetings tomorrow as I am running for the secretary of my college's student government, I'm posting this early so that I don't have to post this late in the day. My slogan is "Vote for me or piss off" What do you think? No, actually I'm nicer than that, but that is what it is if anyone asks. So, this chapter is the one that you have all been waiting for.**

**Yes, it happens in this chapter. *raises eyebrow* The magic happens. So, I'm going to leave it at that and let you read it while I go smile like an idiot happily all wrapped up in my jumper. I'm actually slightly ill because people like to share their germs, as Sherlock told Lexi I'm cultivating pathogens, so with out further ado ALLONS-Y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty One- Whispers<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The night before, John and Sherlock had gotten me home form the planetarium after Sherlock had called Lestrade to let him know what had happened. I was in a lot of pain and John had to give me several painkillers before I would even let him go anywhere near my shoulder. Sherlock had to hold me down in my seat so that I would end up hitting John as he popped my shoulder back into joint. I screamed at the pain which brought Mrs. Hudson upstairs to see what the matter was. She looked nearly pale when she saw that it was me who had gotten hurt again. It wasn't my fault. I felt a need to protect my boys and most times I bit off more than I could chew. The Golem was far bigger than any of us though and I had simply gotten in his way. Falling on my bad shoulder had only made things worse and John said I was very lucky I hadn't broken it as well. Mrs. Hudson made the three of us tea as Sherlock pulled me closely to him on the couch and let me curl up in his side as I cried at the pain. John gave me more pain killers and found a sling to put my arm in, telling me I shouldn't lift it or pick up anything too heavy for at least two weeks. He wanted to take me to the A&E for an x-ray, but I refused and only curled up tighter next to Sherlock, burrowing my face into the fabric of his shirt. I fell asleep on the couch and when I woke up in the middle of the night it was next to the consulting detective in my room. I could tell that either he or John had brought me to bed, but Sherlock probably was having problems sleeping so he had come to sleep with me.

Sherlock had nightmares about his past in the same way that I did but his problem was that his brain worked too hard to be able to quiet enough to make sleep possible. Studies proved that sleeping next to someone improved your quality of sleep. It might have been the warmth another body provided, but I believed it was the simple fact of knowing that there was someone next to you. It brought you comfort to know that someone was there for you. It was on the nights that I slept beside Sherlock that I actually slept. I didn't dream of the past. His presence worked better than his violin playing. I knew he was playing for me all those nights. It was obvious now. He always played the same melody that he knew relaxed me and he only started playing after I had gone to bed. It was these little gestures he did that meant more to me than he would ever know. I rolled over and snuggled into Sherlock's side, laying my head down on the consulting detective's chest. I reached up with my good arm and brushed a few of his curls out of his face and he let out a sigh in his sleep. I grinned sleepily as I studied his face. In sleep he looked so peaceful. None of the warring emotions and anxiety crossed his face. In a moment of boldness I wiggled up in bed and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before snuggling down into his chest again and closing my eyes as his arm moved in his sleep and tightened around my waist.

When I woke up the next morning I did not wake up alone like I expected to. Sherlock was still asleep next to me and I yawned and snuggled closer to him like a cat, as I curled up into his warm side. He breathed out and he opened one eye lazily, letting me know that he was awake. I could see that his phone was within arm's reach on my night stand and that it had been moved from where it had been the night before. Sherlock loosened his arm around my waist as I stretched and wiggled so that I could look up at Sherlock. He gazed down at me questioningly and I smiled up at him sleepily as I closed my eyes, still feeling a bit tired. My shoulder was killing me and I was ready to hunt up some painkillers. I was hoping for better than what John had given me the night before as that had barely taken the edge off of it. Sherlock seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as he reached over, being careful not to move me and opened the top drawer of my dresser, pulling out a syringe which was already filled.

"What's that?" I asked Sherlock, furrowing my brow as I quickly sat up. He sat up as well as I eyed the syringe warily. I knew Sherlock wasn't into Cocaine or Heroin anymore. I would have known if he was as I knew all the signs to look for so this was something else, but he shouldn't have it either.

"Morphine. I kept a single dosage just in case, but I've never used it," Sherlock told me as he looked at me intensely as if to press upon the fact that he had never used it. "John's painkillers won't cut it for you, but this will," Sherlock told me and I nodded, knowing he was right. I was torn. I was in a lot of pain and we still had a case to solve, but I didn't want to take narcotics either. I sighed heavily and nodded again with more conviction, offering my arm to Sherlock. He took the plastic protector off of the needle and injected the Morphine into my vein. I would solve the case first and then I would just live with the pain until my shoulder healed fully.

"Only once and never again," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me in understanding. "Any other drugs you have stashed away?" I asked Sherlock, raising an eyebrow as he pulled the needle from my arm and rubbed the spot he had injected to sooth any residual pain away.

"Just a bit of Cocaine, but don't worry. It's only a reminder and not nearly enough to be worth it," Sherlock told me and I raised my eyebrow higher but melted as soon as he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I was going to trust him on this. "We should get up. Lestrade is going to meet us down at the Hickman gallery," Sherlock told me as he got out of my bed, taking the used syringe with him.

"Mmmm," I said sleepily as I laid back down and curled up in the warm spot he had left, breathing in the scent of him which he had left all over my pillow. "Five more minutes," I told him and I grinned sleepily as I closed my eyes.

"Now. You'll never get up if you lay down again," Sherlock told me and I groaned and rolled over, knowing he was right.

"Fine," I told him as I sat up and swung my legs of the side of the bed and stood up, cradling my arm to my chest as Sherlock had taken off my sling so I could sleep. "Happy?" I asked the consulting detective and he smirked slightly at me.

"Immensely," He told me sarcastically and I snorted before kicking him out of my room so I could get dressed. Dressing with one arm was no fun but I managed to pull on a pair of pants that looked like jeans but felt like sweatpants and a white tank top before I mastered pulling on my olive green jumper. I put my sling back on and pulled on my thick socks and boots before I exited my room and joined John in the kitchen where he was drinking tea. He handed me my own mug and I sipped on it gratefully as Sherlock appeared behind us fully dressed. "Look, dressed and ready. I should get a freaking medal," I told the boys feeling in a slight bad mood today. I was pissed at the Golem. I had finally got my hand healed and then I had gotten injured again by the assassin and now I had a concussion and a healing dislocated shoulder to contend with. Did I have to get injured on every one of our cases?

"I'll see what Mycroft can do," Sherlock told me humorously as he smirked at me and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Ready?" I asked John as the army doctor took my finished mug of tea from me and put it with his own in the sink, filling both mugs with just a bit of water.

"Yeah. Let's go," John told us and I grinned at my boys.

"Allons-y!" I told them as I made for the door, stopping and letting Sherlock help me into my jacket. It took slightly longer than normal since John needed to help him get my arm into it, but we managed in the end. Sherlock tied my scarf for me and I forwent carrying my case bag with me and sooner rather than later the three of us were headed off in a cab to meet Lestrade at the Hickman Gallery.

We met the D.I. in front of the gallery and headed inside, Miss Wenceslas joining us as we were brought back to view the Vermeer. I had a theory in mind about how the painting could be a fake, in fact I had several theories. Now that I knew what I should be looking for and had more time to think about it I was sure that we would be able to figure out how it was a fake. Sherlock and I stood in front of the Vermeer painting and I took out my phone as did Sherlock so that I could look up some information. Sherlock had his own theories of course, but I always found it was better to follow my own to see if I came to the same conclusion as Sherlock or not. I quickly looked up "Vermeer brush strokes", "Pigment analysis", "Canvas degradation", "UV Light damage", "Delft Skyline, 1600", and "Vermeer influences" to refresh my memory on the subject. If the painting was a fake it was a very good fake, so much so that it was difficult to tell that it was. John, Lestrade and Miss Wenceslas stood behind us as I put my phone away and bent in closer to inspect every inch of the canvas.

"It's a fake. It has to be," Sherlock said, breaking the silence that had settled over our small group as we had worked at trying to figure out how it was a fake.

"That painting has been subjected to every test known to science," Miss Wenceslas told us irritatedly and I straightened up, wincing slightly as my shoulder moved a little too much. The Morphine was helping far better than John's painkillers had and Sherlock was right it wasn't enough to be that worth it, but just enough to take the edge off. I was sure that I would have no negative, long term effects from taking only one small dose.

"It's a very good fake, then," Sherlock said as he spun around and glared at her.

"And tests can be manipulated and faked easily. They aren't full proof, hardly anything ever is," I told her as I also turned around, fixing her with a hard stare. She knew it was a fake. She was involved in this entire thing, but I didn't know how or to what degree. I was still making calculations as I received new data from my surroundings.

"You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?" Sherlock asked Miss Wenceslas and I nodded before cocking my head to the side as I regarded her, deducing her from her slightest reactions.

"She does know something. It is her gallery after all and she was the one to find the painting. She hasn't done it alone though, she's had help," I said aloud, voicing my deductions and I caught the slightest signs of Miss Wenceslas's eye twitching before she composed herself. I was right then. She turned to Lestrade, looking exasperated.

"Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?" Miss Wenceslas asked him as the pink phone suddenly rang. Sherlock snatched it from his pocket and switched on the speaker.

"The painting is a fake," Sherlock said s the faint sound of breathing came in over the speaker but otherwise there was no response. "It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed," Sherlock continued, but still there was nothing more than just breathing. I wondered if maybe our bomber had finally decided to contact us himself, but that didn't fit the profile. He was waiting for something in particular before he made himself know and I was sure that at some point he was going to make himself know. "Oh, come on. Proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. I've solved it. I've figured it out. It's a fake! That's the answer. That's why they were killed," Sherlock said and I raised my eyebrow at him. He had solved it? The last time I checked we had solved it together. Now wasn't the time to get petty though. I didn't care if I was given credit. I put a hand on Sherlock's arm when the phone remained silent and Sherlock took a deep breath to calm himself. "Okay, I'll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?" Sherlock asked and after a moment, the tremulous voice of a very young boy came over the phone's speaker.

"Ten...," The boy said and instantly Sherlock and I spun around and looked closely at the painting. I was right, he was going to do something more dangerous because of last time and this time around that was using a child. Ten seconds to solve how the painting was a fake. I closed my eyes and entered my Mind Palace, listening to what was happening at the same time as I went through all my knowledge of Vermeer and also of the case.

"It's a kid. Oh, God, it's a kid!" Lestrade said in shock, voicing the same thing I was thinking aloud. I hadn't expected it to be a child, but I was expecting him to do something drastic this time around. I kept myself calm however. I needed to be calm to solve this.

"What did he say?" John asked us as I frowned and flicked my wrist to the side, calling away information on Vermeer. It wasn't about brush strokes or colour pigment.

""Ten,"" Sherlock told them as I opened my eyes and searched quickly over the painting. Woodbridge, he figured out how the painting was a fake but how? John said he didn't know a thing about art so he wouldn't have known about brush strokes or colours or anything about the painter himself that would have been a giveaway that the painting was a fake.

"Nine ...," The boy continued the countdown as my brain started working faster to make connections between everything. I was thinking large scale because this wasn't just about this particular case it was about all four of them as well.

"It's a countdown. He's giving me time," Sherlock said narrowing his eyes as he scanned every inch of the painting. I didn't even bother to correct him that the bomber was giving us time.

"Jesus!" Lestrade said as I ran a hand through my lose hair, having left it down because I couldn't style it on my own.

"The painting is a fake, but how can I prove it? How? How?" Sherlock said in frustration. He couldn't figure it out. There was a connection, there had to be, I just had to find it and quickly.

Eight...," The boy counted down and Sherlock turned around and glared at Miss Wenceslas.

"This kid will die. Tell me why the painting is a fake. Tell me!" Sherlock demanded as Miss Wenceslas flinched and opened her mouth, but Sherlock immediately held up his hand to stop her.

"Seven...," The boy counted down as I discarded more information with a flick of my wrist. Too much clutter, I remembered too much, but I had forgotten something once before, something important. Something that I was starting to remember now in bits and pieces.

"No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if I figure it out," Sherlock said as he turned back to the painting again. Unable to stand the tension, John turned and walked away a few paces. Lestrade turned to watch him, probably wanting to join in the pacing as well. The army doctor suddenly looked round at me as I watched him my eyes following him as I thought.

"Lexi?" He asked me and I shook my head at him quickly before closing my eyes again. Close, I was close to the answer. Woodbridge, he was an amateur astronomer. The professor at the planetarium. Planetarium! She said he was right. John told us that she said Alex was right about something on the voicemail she left him.

"Must be possible. Must be staring me in the face," Sherlock muttered to himself, as he continued to scan the painting. Planets, stars, connection. There was something Alex saw about the painting that hadn't been right and he would have spotted it as it had to do with astronomy. Thank God for Alistair getting me into stargazing. I opened my eyes and scanned the picture quickly, hoping to spot what Alex had seen.

"Six...," The boy counted down as I closed my eyes again. What was wrong with it? Painting and the stars. Connection between the two.

"Come on," John told us urgently under his breath as he turned back towards us.

"Woodbridge knew, but how?" Sherlock asked us and I shook my head at him, not able to answer him as I tried to figure it out myself.

"Five ...," The boy counted down as it suddenly came to me.

"It's speeding up!" Lestrade warned us and I nodded at him. That was apparent.

"Sherlock. Lexi," John told us urgently and I looked back at him briefly before turning back to the painting. I watched Sherlock's gaze fall on three tiny dots of paint in the night sky. His mouth fell open as the penny finally dropped.

"Oh!" Sherlock said as I nodded slightly to myself. It was a supernova, but which one. Alex spotted it in the painting.

"Four...," The boy counted before Sherlock continued.

"In the planetarium! You heard it too. Oh, that is brilliant! That is gorgeous!" Sherlock said as he turned and shoved the pink phone into John's hands before he walked away from the painting, grinning as he pulled out his own phone from his pocket. He was getting too into this case and it was starting to make his head swell. This entire thing was giving him an ego boost which he didn't need and I wasn't happy at all about that. He would be hearing some choice words from me later on.

"Three ...," The boy counted down as John looked at him. I shook my head and sighed heavily before going back into my Mind Palace. Three seconds left. Now what supernova was it? The painting was supposedly from the sixteen forties. So, something that didn't come a long until later. That narrowed it down. Then you had the star patterns which also narrowed it down. Using the other stars as reference, really narrowed it down as did the discussion I had with Alistair about that particular section of the night sky.

"What's brilliant? What is?" John asked Sherlock who was rapidly typing into his phone, then turned back and walked towards us, laughing in delight.

"This is beautiful. I love this!" Sherlock said and I growled at him. He shouldn't be loving this. This bomber was dangerous and not someone to be taken lightly at all. He needed to be serious about this and I was not going to put up with this side of Sherlock.

"Two...," The boy counted down and Lestrade snapped his head towards Sherlock and away from me, having looked over at me when he heard me growl at the consulting detective who was starting to get on my nerves.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade snapped furiously as I stalked forward and grabbed the phone from John and yelled into it.

"The Van Buren Supernova!" I told the bomber as I met Sherlock's eyes which widened slightly as he met my glare. I was not happy and it was entire directed at him this time around. There was a short pause, then the boy's plaintive voice came from the speaker.

"Please. Is somebody there?" The boy asked and Sherlock sighed out a relieved breath as I gazed at him icily. This was not over, not in the least bit. John eyed me warily as did Lestrade after both men noticed my dark expression. "Somebody help me!" The boy cried and I took a deep breath and let it out before I spoke again, pushing my feelings way for now.

"It's okay sweetie. You're alright now. I'm going to give you over to my friend. He's a police officer. Tell him where you are sweetie and he's going to come get you," I told the boy as I heard him start to sniffle before I turned and handed the phone off to Lestrade. "There you go. Go find out where he is and pick him up," I told the D.I and he gave John a long look before he glazed slightly at me, his meaning clear, then turned and pointed to one of the dots in the sky of the painting.

"The Van Buren Supernova, so-called," Sherlock said as he held up his phone over his shoulder so that Miss Wenceslas could see the screen. "Exploding star, only appeared in the sky in eighteen fifty-eight," Sherlock finished as I gritted my teeth. Sherlock turned and threw Miss Wenceslas a triumphant look, then walked away. John dragged in a relieved breath, then walked closer to look at the painting.

"So how could it have been painted in the sixteen forties?" John asked and he grinned over his shoulder at Miss Wenceslas, then looked back to the picture again. His phone trilled a text alert. "Oh," John said as he dug out his phone, still breathing heavily, and looked at the message which I read over his shoulder as I stepped closer to him.

**My patience is wearing thin.**

**Mycroft Holmes**

He growled slightly, then looked up at the painting one last time. "Oh Sherl…," He said, trailing off as he saw my expression which was still icy. He switched off the phone and walked away as I followed after him, looking back over my shoulder once to see Miss Wenceslas starring at the painting in shock.

After Lestrade found out where the boy was and sent people to collect him, he escorted Miss Wenceslas personally down to Scotland Yard. As I wasn't feeling in the mood to sit next to Sherlock, I followed Lestrade to his squad car and slipped into the passenger's seat without a word and closed the door. Sherlock stopped beside Lestrade's car and looked at me through the window but I kept my head straight, glaring out through the windshield. What was pissing me off was not the fact that he had waited until two seconds left when I had taken it upon myself to give the answer to the bomber. What was pissing me off was that this entire thing was made to be a game for us and I wasn't so sure he was taking it seriously. This wasn't neat or elegant or something to fool around with. Our bomber meant business and I knew that for certain because I had remembered something. I had remembered something I had chosen to forget, the only thing I had ever been able to delete. If our bomber was the person I thought he was then this was not going to end well. Sherlock needed to deflate his ego and realize that we were being played. This was one great game and if we weren't careful, we wouldn't be making it out alive. I followed Lestrade up to his office with Miss Wenceslas and Sherlock soon joined us, John having gone on to Battersea like we expected him too as we wrapped up the end of this case. I stood over by the window, looking out at the streets of London as Sherlock and Miss Wenceslas sat side by side in front of Lestrade's desk while the inspector sat in a chair to the side of the desk. Sherlock had his hands his prayer position under his chin and I turned back to them to watch them.

"You know, it's interesting. Bohemian stationery, an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss Wenceslas. This whole case has a distinctly Czech feeling about it. Is that where this leads?" Sherlock asked Miss Wenceslas and she looked down and didn't answer him.

"You wrote our names on the envelope and put the phone into it before having someone bring it to the flat across the street from ours and put it in the safe," I said and Lestrade looked up at me in surprise as Miss Wenceslas's expression proved that I was right. Our bomber needed a hand, someone who would do his dirty work who owed him a lot. Miss Wenceslas was the perfect person for the job.

"What are we looking at, Inspector?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as I looked over at him, raising one eyebrow questioningly. Miss Wenceslas was guilty of trying to pass on a fake painting as the real thing for money, but something told me that she had been fooled rather completely as well.

"Well, um, criminal conspiracy, fraud, accessory after the fact at the very least. The murder of the old woman, all the people in the flats…," Lestrade said thoughtfully and Miss. Wenceslas looked panicked.

"I didn't know anything about that! All those things! Please believe me," Miss Wenceslas told Lestrade as she continued to stare at him, Sherlock gave him a tiny nod to confirm that she was telling the truth, but when she looked to me I offered my own views on the subject.

"I believe that you are telling the truth. I also believe that you were used. You're afraid of him like the others and rightly so," I said and her eyes widened slightly in surprise at my knowledge. Sherlock and Lestrade both looked at me in confusion, having no idea what I was talking about. Miss Wenceslas nodded before she continued.

"I just wanted my share – the thirty million," She told us and she looked across to Sherlock, then sighed and lowered her head again. "I found a little old man in Argentina. Genius. I mean, really: brushwork immaculate, could fool anyone," She started to explain to us as I turned back to the window thoughtfully.

"Hmm!" Sherlock said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes, feeling my blood start to boil again. If he could keep his abnormally large ego in check for a few minutes I might not want to kill him so much.

"Well, nearly anyone," Miss Wenceslas said as I turned back around and caught her giving Sherlock a look before she turned back to Lestrade. "But I didn't know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea – a spark which he blew into a flame."

"Who?" Sherlock asked her sharply as I closed my eyes and turned away, back towards the window, staring at my reflection in the glass.

"I don't know," Miss Wenceslas told us and Lestrade laughed in disbelief as I let out a held breath. "It's true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was put in touch with people ... his people," Miss Wenceslas said as I turned around and walked closer to her. Sherlock slowly began to sit up in his chair, his expression becoming more concentrated. "Well, there was never any real contact; just messages ... whispers," Miss Wenceslas said and Sherlock leaned closer to her, his face intense.

"And did those whispers have a name?" Sherlock asked her as she gazed at me for a moment, then looked across to Lestrade before nodding. She turned her head to Sherlock and answered him.

"Moriarty," We said in unison and slowly Sherlock sank back in his chair as Lestrade and Miss Wenceslas looked at me for a long moment, hearing the bitterness in my voice. As Miss Wenceslas looked anxiously at Lestrade again, Sherlock gazed into the distance, his eyes full of thought. Eventually he raised his hands into the prayer position in front of his mouth, then grinned.

"Sherlock? Can I have a moment?" I asked the consulting detective icily and his gaze snapped up to me as I glared down at him. He nodded briefly and I swept out of the room and into my office as he followed after me. I shut the door after he entered my office and he raised his eyebrow questioningly a little smirk on his face still. "Wipe the smirk off your face Sherlock," I snapped at him angrily as I turned around and started pacing. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched my moments.

"Have I done something to upset you?" He asked me and I could see just a tad bit of anger cloud his own vision.

"Yes, you bloody well have. Are you taking any of this seriously?" I asked Sherlock as I stopped and pointed behind him towards the door, making a gesture back towards Lestrade's office. "Do you not see? This is all meant for us. There is a purpose behind these cases that we don't even know yet and we were right. This person, this Moriarty is behind it all," I told Sherlock angrily and he looked back at me coldly.

"I don't know how that gives you a right to be angry at me," Sherlock snapped at me and I took a deep breath and let it out, turning away from Sherlock. I hated fighting with him.

"I'm angry with you because you are letting your ego get in the way of things. Back at the gallery you said you figured out the painting was a fake," I said before Sherlock cut me off.

"Oh so this is about me not giving you credit?" Sherlock asked me, raising his eyebrow at me as his eyes darkened.

"NO!" I shouted at him angrily. "This isn't about that either. Sherlock, I don't care if you give me credit or not. What I do care about is you letting your ego get in the way of things. Moriarty is dangerous. We both know this. I'm worried that you aren't taking this seriously enough and then you're going to get hurt or worse…," I said, my voice trailing off as I breathed heavily. "I care about you Sherlock and I'm afraid," I said and I saw the anger drain out of his eyes and be replaced with concern as I looked away from him. He stepped forward and put a hand on my left arm before he lifted my chin so that I was looking at him again. "I'm afraid," I repeated. "Because I'm starting to remember something I chose to forget and it scares me that something was that bad that I could," I told Sherlock as I let everything I had been feeling lately come pouring out all at once. This wasn't just about him being egotistical, it was also about my fear for him, about him getting hurt because I loved him. I was so confused by everything that had been going on between us lately and I needed to know. I needed to know if he felt the same way because I couldn't face Moriarty or have Sherlock face him and have something happen to one of us and not know. "I'm afraid that something is going to happen to you," I told Sherlock, looking up at him as he gazed down at me. "I'm afraid something might happen to me and you'll never know," I told him and I could see the burning question in his eyes. Know what? Before I could stop myself or chicken out I quickly put my good arm around the back of Sherlock's neck and pulled the consulting detective down to my level and pressed my lips firmly to his in a searing kiss.

I now knew what people meant when they said they could see sparks fly when they kissed the person they loved. For a brief moment I was worried when Sherlock didn't respond, but then he put his hands on my waist and pulled me tightly to him. I didn't care about my arm or if it hurt. I pulled it out of the sling and pulled on the lapels of Sherlock's coat trying to pull him even closer to me. His lips moved across mine hungrily and I suddenly felt breathless in a very healthy way. Sherlock's tongue ran across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth, inviting him in and our tongues tangled together in an intimate way. I brought the hand that was on Sherlock's neck up and started to slide it through the hair at the base of his neck. Sherlock let out a sound that I registered was a moan just seconds before he pulled away from the kiss, the both of us breathing heavily as Sherlock looked shocked by the way his body had reacted to the kiss. We both breathed heavily and neither of us moved an inch, our chests pressed together as we held onto each other tightly. Sherlock stared down at me with intense eyes as I gazed up at him slightly dazed and I saw his eyes move from mine and then down to my lips before he bent down and captured mine with his own once more without even a second's warning. This kiss was even more passionate than before. It was months of feelings that had been mounting all in one kiss.

Sherlock's tongue joined mine again and it was my turn to moan as Sherlock detached one hand from my waist and brought it up to my cheek so he could tilt my head to the side for better access He walked me backwards and I bumped into my desk, and Sherlock lifted me on top of it by my waist without breaking contact with my lips. His fingers trailed up to my hair and they tangled into the copper strands as I ran my fingers through his dark curls. We broke apart, gasping for air and Sherlock started pressing kisses hungrily down my jaw and then on my neck as he moved his hands to my waist and stepped in between my legs as I leaned into the kiss to grant him easier access. I moaned pleasantly at the feeling of his lips on my skin before pulling Sherlock's chin up and pressing my lips to his again. Our tongues tangled together and I carded my hands through his hair and scratched his scalp gently. Sherlock moaned into the kiss before our brains finally registered the lack of oxygen and we broke apart again and looked at each other as we caught our breath.

"That was um…that was…," Sherlock stuttered as we both breathed heavily and he held onto my waist lightly and made no attempts to move me as I left one arm slung around his neck and the other hand resting on his chest since I couldn't lift that arm and higher.

"Don't over think it," I told Sherlock shaking my head slightly as I gazed up at him, still feeling a little light headed from our kiss. It had been my first kiss… and then my second…and then my third. I had never found anyone that I ever remotely loved as much as I loved Sherlock Holmes. I didn't date. I was asked plenty of times, but I just didn't. I didn't see the point in dating if I knew I wasn't going to like the person. Sherlock was different from all of them though. He didn't just see the me on the outside that everyone else did, he knew everything about me from a simple glance. Sherlock didn't just see how I looked on the outside, he also saw how I was on the inside and that was what I wanted someone to see. If anyone could ever have my heart it was him and I was glad to give it.

"I'm not," Sherlock told me before he repeated it as he brought a hand up and cupped my cheek, rubbing his thumb over my cheek bone. "I'm not," He assured me as he pressed a chaste kiss to my lips and I grinned as it seemed that he couldn't get enough of kissing me. I couldn't get enough of him either. We had months of lost time to catch up on. We had been idiots, skirting around each other while at the same time being drawn closer to one another. Looking back I could see that it had all started during our first case. That was when I first felt the attraction towards him, pulling me in, and then I had fallen for him.

"I love you," I told Sherlock who instantly looked very nervous and he opened his mouth to say something and I nodded as I lifted myself up slightly and pressed a small kiss to his lips. "I know. I know you aren't ready to say it yet and that's okay. I don't expect you too," I assured Sherlock and he looked relieved. "But I want you to know that I love you Sherlock Holmes and when you are ready I'll still be here and I'm always going to be here for you," I told the consulting detective who nodded at me slowly.

"So, what happens now?" Sherlock asked me and I could tell that he was really nervous. "I don't…I'm not…I don't normally do… this. This isn't my area…," Sherlock told me, stumbling over his words and I giggled slightly as I rested my head on his chest and instinctively he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

"It's not my area either. This is the first time I've…," I told Sherlock, trailing off awkwardly before I pulled back to look at him and caught his surprised look at my admission.

"Surely you've… danced," Sherlock said and I knew what he was hinting to without saying it in a normal way. His cheeks turned slightly pink and I shook my head, a slight grin on my face that I didn't think would wear off soon.

"Never," I told him honestly and his eyes widened ever more. "Sure, people have asked me out before, but I always turned them down. They weren't right for me. That was actually my first kiss," I told Sherlock and he swallowed thickly.

"How did I do?" He asked me coolly, but I could hear the note of hysteria in his voice. This wasn't his area, but it wasn't mine either. I was just as nervous and scared by this as he was because everything had changed in one single moment.

"It was…breath-taking," I said, finally settling on the right word. Sherlock and I looked at each other for a long moment before we both started laughing, his deep baritone laugh rumbling lowly in his chest as it mixed with my higher pitched bell like laugh. I loved the feeling of his chest rumbling against mine.

"So… what are we now?" Sherlock asked me as we quieted down and I pulled back to look at him properly as his arms tightened slightly around my waist, almost possessively.

"Whatever you want us to be," I told Sherlock, giving him the choice. I was fine to just be as long as I no longer had to hide the fact that I loved him. That was torture, especially after a kiss like the ones we had just shared.

"Could we just be?" Sherlock asked me nervously. "A label is…," Sherlock said, not knowing the right word and I nodded at him.

"We can just be. I like that," I told Sherlock and he brought a hand up to my cheek and bent down to kiss me again. It wasn't nearly as long or as heated as our other kisses had been but it held the same amount of emotion and things left unspoken.

"So what now?" Sherlock asked me as he pulled away and I grinned up at him, feeling my heart bursting with happiness and emotions I had never felt in my life. For once I felt, content and loved, and happier beyond anyone had the right to be.

"Now we go and find John at Battersea," I told Sherlock as I pulled back from him a little and slid my arm back into the sling. Sherlock lifted me by the waist and set me down on my feet in front of him and he pouted slightly as he looked down at me. I rolled my eyes before standing on tip toes and pressing a kiss to his jawline as it was the highest thing I could reach. Curse him for being so much taller than me. "There is a case we've been skirting around the entire time and I think we should finally have done with it," I told Sherlock as I took his hand in mine. He linked our fingers together and looked down at me with a little smirk on his face, now for a different reason than before.

"Agreed," The consulting detective told me before we exited my office. We returned to Lestrade and very briefly explained to him everything we knew so far about Moriarty. If he noticed our slightly swollen lips or ruffled hair, he didn't make a comment on it. Miss Wenceslas was charged and taken into custody and then Sherlock and I left the Yard to go and join our army doctor and blogger. Whatever happened now could happen because I had Sherlock by my side and when he was there, I felt safe. I needed to feel safe because I now knew how I knew the name Moriarty and some things were better left forgotten.

**John's POV**

John, wearing a high-vis jacket, walked along the railway lines with the Tube guard who had found Andrew West's body. He had left Sherlock and Lexi at the Hickman Gallery to catch a cab to Battersea, not able to put off this case any longer. In all honesty John was quite happy to have made his escape when he did. Lexi looked like she was about ready to bite Sherlock's head off if the fact that she chose to ride to the Yard with Lestrade in his squad car was any indication. Things had been going well between them that morning and John now knew for sure that they had slept together or at least in the same room. He had caught Sherlock walking out of Lexi's room and he had been up since dawn so he knew that the consulting detective hadn't just gone in there to check on her and had been in her room for a while. John really didn't want to know any details about what was going on between them. That was between them after all. The way Sherlock was, John just couldn't see him in that kind of relationship. He was sure that nothing had happened between them. He was even surer of this when Lexi came out of her room, ready to leave earlier that morning. She was doing pretty well for someone who had dislocated her shoulder badly and she wasn't complaining about the pain so that was good. Maybe it had been less serious than he thought. John pulled himself back to the present, ready to figure out this case before Mycroft descended upon him.

"So this is where West was found?" John asked the tube guard who nodded at him.

"Yeah," The tube guard answered him and John answered with an "Uh-huh." "You gonna be long?" The tube guard asked him, clearly worried about having to actually do his job.

"I might be," John told him, not knowing how long it was going to take him to figure the case out. He wasn't a consulting detective, not be a long shot, no matter how much Lexi tried to teach him small things.

"You with the police, then?" The tube guard asked him and John nodded his head slightly as he thought about an answer to his question.

"Sort of," John told him, settling on a vague answer. It was a little hard to say that your flat mate's brother who practically was the British government had given you this case which was highly classified to said flat mate and their female flat mate who both refused to take the case so he was trying to solve. In all honesty that didn't even sound anything short of mental in his head.

"I hate 'em," The tube guard said suddenly, drawing John back to the present conversation.

"The police?" John asked him in confusion and the tube guard shook his head.

"No. Jumpers. People who chuck themselves in front of trains. Selfish bastards," The tube guard told him and John looked at the man for a long moment. To each his own. Sure, maybe it wasn't the best idea, but could you honestly say they were being selfish?

"Well, that's one way of looking at it," John told him as he squatted down to look more closely at the railway track.

"I mean it. It's all right for them. It's over in a split second – strawberry jam all over the lines. What about the drivers, hmm? They've gotta live with it, haven't they?" The tube guard said and John ran his fingers along the track, then lifted his hand to look at it. The man had a point if John was being honest.

"Yeah, speaking of strawberry jam, there's no blood on the line," John said as he stood up again. "Has it been cleaned off?" He asked as he looked back at the tube guard.

"No, there wasn't that much," The tube guard told him and John frowned in confusion.

"You said his head was smashed in," John pointed out and the tube guard nodded in affirmation.

"Well, it was, but there wasn't much blood," The tube guard told him and John sighed.

"Okay," John said as he turned and looked along the line thoughtfully.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," The tube guard told him as John walked a few yards further down the line and then squatted down again. "Just give us a shout when you're off," The man told him and John looked up at him again.

"Right," He told him and the guard walked away. John stood up again and started talking to himself as he tried to work it though like Lexi and Sherlock did. "Right, so, uh, Andrew West got on the train somewhere – or did he? There's no ticket on the body. Then how did he end up here?" John said as beside him, the points changed and one of the tracks slid sideways into a new layout. John squatted down again and looked at the tracks thoughtfully.

"Points," Sherlock's voice said, coming from behind him.

"Yes!" John said as he sprung to his feet and turned around to see Sherlock and Lexi standing nearby. John could tell that they had obviously made up as they were standing quite close together and had their hands firmly linked together. Lexi's eyes were shining with happiness and she had a grin on her face that seem permanently fixed there. Sherlock looked rather smug about something too to be honest. John eyed them, having a feeling that something had happened between the two of them to cause this new mood. Lexi had been ready to bite Sherlock's head off and now she was acting like if she let go of Sherlock's hand he would just disappear. John raised his eyebrow slightly in surprise. They'd finally told each other. John was sure of it. No one looked that happy without a reason for it.

"Knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here; that's why there was so little blood," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded as she looked thoughtfully down the train lines.

"Someone decided to use the train to get West's body as far away from them as possible so that it couldn't be traced back to them so easily," Lexi added with one eyebrow slightly raised as she frowned slightly and tilted her head to the side.

"How long have you two been following me?" John asked them in exasperation. Of all times they decided now to just show up for this case. Couldn't be bothered with it before now.

"Since the start. You don't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you?" Sherlock asked him and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes playfully.

"You would do that though Lock," Lexi said, eyeing the detective fondly and he smirked slightly at her. "But he is right John. Just because I don't like taking cases from Mycroft doesn't mean I would just give up one he gave to me. I wanted to see how well you got on, on your own first and it gave us the time we needed to concentrate on our bomber," Lexi told the army doctor before the two detectives turned and started walking away together.

"Come on. Got a bit of burglary to do," Sherlock called and Lexi giggled cheerfully.

"Words every girl wants to hear," Lexi told the consulting detective who chuckled as John shook his head at them in exasperation before running to catch up with them. Yes, something had definitely happened between the two of them. Shortly afterwards the trio were walking down a street, the two detectives still not telling John where they were going.

"The missile defence plans haven't left the country, otherwise Mycroft's people would have heard about it or Lexi as she's been monitoring the channels of communication. Despite what people think, we do still have a Secret Service," Sherlock said as Lexi shrugged as if her constantly hacking into government channels was no big deal.

"Yeah, I know. I've met them," John told him, thinking back to some of the people he had met because of Mycroft Holmes and his time in the army.

"As have I. They don't seem very fond of me. I don't think I've done anything to warrant such behaviour however. I merely hacked into their little systems. If they didn't want me getting in then they should make it harder to do," Lexi said, rolling her eyes and John looked at her in exasperation however Sherlock smirked at her. He was a bad influence on her because he encouraged her hacking as it pissed his brother off.

"Which means whoever stole the memory stick can't sell it or doesn't know what to do with it," Sherlock said not commenting on what Lexi said directly. "My money's on the latter as is Lexi's. We're here," Sherlock told him as John looked around the street.

"Where?" John asked the consulting detective as he and Lexi turned into the drive of a maisonette and trotted up the steps at the side of the building which lead to the front door of flat 21A on the first floor. John whispered to them urgently as Lexi rummaged around in the pocket of her coat. "Sherlock! Lexi! What if there's someone in?" John asked them quickly.

"There isn't," Sherlock told him as he started picking the lock since Lexi couldn't with only one hand.

"At least right now there isn't" Lexi added as Sherlock got the door open and both consulting detectives walked inside after Sherlock handed her back her lock picks and took her hand in his again.

"Jesus!" John said softly as he hurried inside and shut the door. Sherlock and Lexi trotted up the short flight of stairs ahead of them and walked into the living room. "Where are we?" John asked the two detectives as he followed them upstairs.

"Oh, sorry, didn't we say? Joe Harrison's flat," Sherlock answered him as Lexi looked around the living room with one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Joe...?" John asked Sherlock in confusion as the two detectives walked straight over to the window and pulled back the net curtain. They both grinned in satisfaction at the sight which greeted them outside.

"Brother of West's fiancée," Sherlock answered him as the army doctor looked past them to see what was outside the window that was interesting them so much. Outside the window was a one-storey extension, the roof of which could be easily climbed onto from the window. The extension spread all the way to the bottom of the garden which ended in a wall, and directly on the other side of the wall was the railway line. "He stole the memory stick; killed his prospective brother-in-law," Sherlock said and Lexi looked back at John with a slight grin on her face.

"Somehow I don't think sis will be too happy when she finds that out," Lexi told him before both detectives dropped to their knees. Sherlock got out his magnifier and ran it slowly along the edge of the window sill. John walked across to him and peered over his shoulder as Sherlock found some tiny blood-red spots on the paint, showing them to Lexi who nodded in confirmation.

"Then why'd he do it?" John asked them as he straightened up and turned as someone unlocked the front door. Sherlock also stood up helping Lexi to her feet in the process.

"Let's ask him," Sherlock said and reaching round to the back of his jeans, John walked quietly to the door of the living room as the front door slammed. He stepped out onto the landing just as Joe, wearing his courier gear, was leaning his bicycle against the wall. When he saw John he picked up the bike as if he intended to use it as a weapon or simply to throw it at him. John instantly raised his right hand and pointed his pistol at him.

"Don't," John told the man sternly and Joe kept coming but John shook his head. "Don't," John said as Lexi appeared at the top of the stairs behind John.

"I would really listen to him because I doubt you'd want to go a few rounds with me. Other people don't seem to like it so well," Lexi told Joe as she gestured to her arm which was in the sling. Joe stopped and lowered the bike, sighing in a mixture of frustration and fear as he looked beyond John at the Irish girl who turned and went back into the living room to join Sherlock. Shortly afterwards they had Joe sitting on the sofa as the boys and Lexi stood and looked at him. He was very distressed and Lexi had tilted her head to the right and was studying him as Sherlock kept one arm tightly wrapped around her waist, a possessive gesture if ever John saw one.

"It wasn't meant to...," John said and Sherlock looked away, exasperated. "God," Joe said as he rubbed his hand over his face. "What's Lucy gonna say? Jesus," Joe said as Lexi shrugged slightly while he sunk back on the sofa.

"Well I doubt she'll be pleased with you," Lexi said and John threw her an exasperated look before he turned back to Joe.

"Why did you kill him?" John asked the man, curious to know what made him do it. It made sense now. Joe had told John to let the police know to get a move on things with the case, not because he wanted them to actually find the killer, but because he had to make it seem like he did.

"It was an accident," Joe answered him and Lexi and Sherlock snorted in unison. "I swear it was," Joe said and Lexi shook her head at him.

"But stealing the plans for the missile defence programme wasn't an accident, was it?" Sherlock asked him sternly as Lexi nodded in agreement,

"Exactly, Sherlock's right. Stealing the missile defence programme was deliberate. So why do it?" Lexi asked him as she tilted her head to the right again which John noticed she did more when she was thinking.

"I started dealing drugs," Joe said and John heard Lexi mumble, "Always the answer." "I mean, the bike thing's a great cover, right? I dunno – I dunno how it started; I just got out of my depth. I owed people thousands – serious people. Then at Westie's engagement do, he starts talking about his job," Joe told them as he explained to them about going to the pub with Westie one night. "I mean, usually he's so careful; but that night after a few pints he really opened up. He told me about these missile plans – beyond top secret. He showed me the memory stick; he waved it in front of me. You hear about these things getting lost, ending up on rubbish tips and what-not. And there it was, and I thought ... well, I thought it could be worth a fortune," Joe told them, telling them that he had slipped the memory stick out of Westie's shirt pocket when he had helped the very drunk man into his jacket. "It was pretty easy to get the thing off him, he was so plastered. Next time I saw him, I could tell by the look on his face that he knew," Joe told them before continuing. "He showed up at my flat one night. He knew I had it, accused me of taking it. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about," Joe told them as he looked up guiltily at John.

"What happened?" John asked him and Joe told them that Westie and him had a scuffle on the small landing outside the front door and he had angrily shoved Westie who lost his footing and rolled down the steps, landing heavily on the ground.

"I was gonna call an ambulance, but it was too late," Joe said as he told them that he had hauled Westie's limp body up into the living room. "I just didn't have a clue what to do, so I dragged him in 'ere, and I just sat in the dark, thinking," Joe told them as Lexi narrowed her eyes slightly at him.

"When a neat little idea popped into your head," Sherlock said as Joe nodded and then explained to them that he had hauled Westie across to the window as a train pulled up on the tracks outside, its brakes squealing noisily. Joe dragged Westie out of the window and tugged him across the extension roof. He pulled him over the top of the wall, stepped across onto the roof of the train and dragged the body over, settling it into a position along the slightly curved roof so that it wouldn't easily fall off. He stepped back onto the wall and the train sounded its horn and then continued on down the track. Sherlock pushed the net curtain aside and looked out of the window as Lexi stood in the middle of the room. "Carrying Andrew West way away from here. His body would have gone on for ages if the train hadn't met a stretch of track that curved."

"And points," John nodded as Lexi and Sherlock shared a look.

"Exactly," The two consulting detectives said in unison before they smirked knowingly at each other and John felt like he was being left out from some inside joke.

"D'you still have it, then? The memory stick?" John asked Joe and the man nodded at him in confirmation which proved that Sherlock and Lexi had been right all along.

"Fetch it for us – if you wouldn't mind," Sherlock told him and sighing unhappily, Joe stood up and walked into another room. Sherlock walked closer to John and Lexi, speaking to them quietly. "Distraction over, the game continues."

"Unless it was the other way around," Lexi remarked quietly and Sherlock looked over at her quickly, his eyebrows furrowing until Lexi shook her head and met his gaze, silently telling him to forget about what she had said if Sherlock's nod was any indication.

"Well, maybe that's over, too. We've heard nothing from the bomber," John pointed out, hoping that that was over as well because something was starting to bother Lexi about the whole thing more than just the hostages being strapped to Semtex.

"Five pips, remember, John? It's a countdown. We've only had four," Sherlock told him, Lexi having explained to him her theory behind the four short pips relating to the four smaller cases they had solved so far in the cab and telling Sherlock that she believed that the longer pip related to a larger case or puzzle for them to solve.

"Four short pips and then a long one John. They game has only just begun," Lexi told the army doctor who eyed the two detectives warily. There was a look in Lexi's eyes that John didn't like, as if she knew what was coming. It was a haunted look which she head well, but John had a feeling that Lexi knew something about the bomber that she wasn't saying. For now the bomber could wait.


	54. The Consulting Criminal

**Hello sweeties!**

**So here it is, the last chapter of the Great Game. Answering questions, no, I didn't draw the picture for the cover. That was done by the brilliant Ames for me. Remember to check back over the next few days for the mini chapters before A Scandal in Belgravia begins. **

**So... and I know you've been waiting for this. I got my MRI results back. I've got a small tumor in my left lobe. Now, good part is in most teenagers they are slow growing and not cancerous. So, I have to go see a neurologist. Most likely I will have to have surgery to have it removed though. We don't know for certain if this is what is causing my vision problems but it is a good chance it is and if it gets bigger it could cause more problems. Removing it when it is still tiny is better so yeah... not sure how I feel about brain surgery or that I have a brain tumor but it is something at least. But... for now it's called Little Jim/ Moriarty and we'll see if it gets any bigger. **

**Now, onto the less depressing stuff. I got a brilliant chapter for you all and all the questions about Moriarty get answered! So, ALLONS-Y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty- Two- The Consulting Criminal<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

We left Joe's flat and returned to Baker Street, picking up some Chinese takeaway on the way. Mycroft was waiting outside of our flat in his car when we returned to Baker Street and I lingered on the pavement as John went inside with the food. Sherlock sent me inside with our army doctor quickly, mentioning that he didn't want me anywhere near Mycroft. I knew that he had reservations like I did. Mycroft would not take any news of our change in relationship well. Sherlock stayed outside of the flat for a few minutes after we got back to the flat, talking to Mycroft and informing him of our progress on the case. He had me follow John upstairs and I left him with only a questioning glance. I changed into a pair of Sherlock's sweat pants and a knitted Harry Potter jumper before I pulled my jacket back on as it was freezing in the flat since the windows still hadn't been replaced. I padded out into the living room in my thick woollen socks and I sat down on the couch, pulling the blanket over myself which John and Sherlock insisted that I take. The consulting detective had come back up to the flat, not looking exactly happy which was normal after he talked to Mycroft so I had pressed a quick kiss to his jaw as I had walked by him before he went to sit in his chair. I picked at my Lo Mein noodles as I watched some crap telly with Sherlock. John was doing something on his laptop at the dining table, probably writing up another blog post. I looked over at the consulting detective who was sitting in his armchair with his feet up on the seat and his arms folded tightly around him, trying to conserve heat. The pink phone was on the arm of the chair beside him. I couldn't believe that I had actually kissed him and he had kissed me back. I touched my lips slightly as they tingled at the memory. For someone who I was sure had never kissed anyone either, he was a really good kisser. For now we would just be, do what felt right and go with it. There was no need to put a label on it. Besides, calling Sherlock my boyfriend just wouldn't feel right because that word just didn't work for him. Nor did lover or any other variation of the term. I pulled my attention back to the telly after setting my empty carton of Lo Mein on the coffee table. We were watching some Jerry Springer/Jeremy Kyle-type show which I found myself actually watching. It was amusing to watch as people shouted at each other and acted like general idiots on television. As the audience booed noisily, Sherlock yelled indignantly at the telly.

"No, no, no! Of course he's not the boy's father!" Sherlock yelled as he gestured at the screen. "Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!" He continued sighing and he folded his arms again as I giggled over on the couch. John, who had looked round to see what Sherlock was protesting about, got back to his typing.

"Not to mention they don't even share any chromosomal traits," I added as I shook my head at the telly. I heard John snort from over at the dining table and I flicked my gaze over to him before looking back at the telly.

"Knew it was dangerous," John said and Sherlock and I both hummed, a silent question of what was dangerous. "Getting you two into crap telly," John finished as Sherlock looked over at me with a slightly raised eyebrow and a beckoning gesture which I grinned at as I got up, carrying my blanket with me.

"Hmm. Not a patch on Connie Prince," Sherlock said as I sat down on Sherlock's lap once he moved his legs to the floot so I could sit and tucked the blanket in around us. He wrapped his arms around my waist tightly and I snuggled back into the warmth of his body heat. We had agreed to keep our relationship between ourselves. Firstly, we didn't want Mycroft butting into it as we both knew he would not be happy with it at all and secondly we both had too many enemies who would try to use us against one another in a situation. Then there was also the fact that Sherlock and I both weren't exactly comfortable with PDAs. I was sort of shy and nervous about it this was my first actual relationship with anyone and I would rather it just be the two of us for right now. Our stolen moments like when we had been to Belarus together or when John was out of the flat were precious. It wasn't that we were against John knowing, we would be more open around him, but Sherlock told me he didn't want to share me and wanted those moments that could just be ours.

"She was terrible. I did actually try to watch her show. I got five minutes in and had to turn it off," I told the boys, scrunching up my nose in distaste before I burrowed into the warmth under the blanket feeling slightly better now that my hands weren't icicles.

"Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?" John asked Sherlock, looking over at us briefly and throwing us a questioning glance for how we were sitting before brushing it off. I knew that Sherlock's plan had been a good one. He wanted my attention and with it being so cold in the flat it would look like we were just sitting together for warmth. It was effective. Something in the way Sherlock was holding me was worrying me a little bit. It was as if he was afraid he wouldn't see me for a while so he was possessively clinging to me.

"Yep. He was over the moon. Threatened me with a knighthood – again," Sherlock told him and I didn't comment on the fact that I knew Sherlock hadn't given it to him.

He had been outside yes and Mycroft could have come by in his car to pick it up because he didn't think Sherlock would bring it to him but I knew that wasn't the truth. He still had it for whatever reason. I deduced that Mycroft had come by because he was tired of not hearing from any of us and wanted to know if we had made any progress on the case. Sherlock sent me upstairs because he wanted to handle his brother and for some reason, didn't want to hand over the memory stick. Course all he had to do was let me know with a look and I would have played along. If he didn't want to tell me that was fine. When he was ready to tell me he would. I trusted him to tell me when something was important. Sherlock's obvious annoyance was probably over the fact that Mycroft wouldn't have been too happy to learn that we "hadn't" solved his case yet. In all fairness, I didn't actually want to solve Mycroft's case in the first place. He had people that could do that for him or he could get off his lazy arse and do it himself.

"You turned him down didn't you? I'm not going to be Dame Lexi am I?" I whined, playing along with him. I wasn't going to question him. There was no point of it. I trusted Sherlock. People might find that hard to believe, but I did. I trusted that Sherlock would do the right thing and I had to trust him. I had to learn to trust people. I guarded my heart closely, but the walls I had built around it were slowly being taken down by Sherlock so I was going to let him in and I was going to trust that he was going to do the right thing with it.

"You know, I'm still waiting," John said as I tilted my head back to see Sherlock furrowing his eyebrows at me with a slight smirk on his face. I turned back to look at John who was watching us. He raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged slightly at me.

"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed as I turned back to watch the telly while they talked.

"For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system and you'd have cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker," John said and I giggled slightly, earning a poke in the side from Sherlock as he told me to hush.

"Didn't do you any good, did it?" Sherlock asked him as I shook my head at Sherlock, mock scolding him before I looked over at John who didn't seem too offended by what Sherlock had said. It seemed like he was starting to get used to how Sherlock and I acted.

"No, but I'm not one of the world's only consulting detectives. Besides, Lexi knew about it and she was the one who solved it," John pointed out as he smiled smugly at me.

"True," Sherlock said as I turned back to him slightly shocked as I expected him to make some comment about it and I found him smiling back at me. I grinned back at him, glowing at that little compliment to me. John closed the lid of his laptop and stood up as I leaned back in Sherlock's arms, feeling very content.

"I won't be in for tea. I'm going to Sarah's. There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge," John told us as Sherlock and I started watching the telly again. His eyes became fixated on the screen again.

"Mmm!" He hummed distractedly, acknowledging what he said and I felt the sound vibrate through his chest and through my back. A grin made its way onto my face as I leaned back and rested my head on Sherlock's shoulder.

"You keep trying to feed us!" I complained as I pulled my eyes away from the telly and rolled them at John who stopped at the door and was just watching Sherlock and me as if we were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Uh, milk. We need milk," John told us as Sherlock was still distracted by the show. We had been right and they had just revealed that the man was not the boy's father.

"I'll get some," Sherlock told him and John turned back with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Really?!" He asked Sherlock incredulously as I watched my boys with a smirk on my face.

"Really," Sherlock told him and John hesitated for a second as he watched Sherlock to see if he was being serious.

"And some beans, then?" John asked Sherlock as he looked over at me and raised his eyebrow, silently asking me if Sherlock was alright and I nodded at him.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed again still not looking away from the TV. John hesitated, still surprised, but then nodded and walked away. I groaned as I sat up and pulled myself out of the warmth under the blanket with Sherlock. He finally broke his staring contest with the TV to look up at me in confusion as I removed his arms from my waist and stood up. "Where are you going?" Sherlock asked me as I moved towards the door and grabbed my scarf and started pulling it on.

"To the store," I told Sherlock as I pulled on my boots beside the door, grabbing my wallet and my mobile and putting them into the pockets of my sweatpants.

"I said I would go," Sherlock told me his eyebrows furrowing, not in confusion, but in unhappiness that I was leaving.

"Do you really want to go?" I asked him as I turned back to him, pulling on my coat, and raised my eyebrow at the consulting detective.

"No," He told me shaking his head slightly.

"Exactly. That's why I'm going," I told him with a grin as I walked over to his chair and carded my fingers through his hair and he hummed in contentment. "Don't do anything dangerous," I told him and he looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

"Yes," He told me as he turned his attention back to the TV.

"And be careful," I added, having a feeling that as soon as I left he was going to do whatever he had been waiting to do. He was keeping me out of it for a reason so that was why I was going to trust that he was going to be alright without me.

"Yes," Sherlock told me again with a sigh and I grinned and shook my head at him fondly.

"And don't forget your gun," I reminded him, but he was so distracted by my fingers running through his hair and the telly that he didn't register what I had said.

"Yes," He told me distractedly and I bent down and pressed a quick chaste kiss to his lips, pulling back before he could respond. He looked up at me, his eyes a little dazed and I giggled slightly, carding my fingers through his hair one more time before I walked to the door.

"See you later Lock," I told him, the warning that I better see him later fully intended.

"Oh right...later," Sherlock told me as he looked back at the Tv with a slight smirk on his face and I shook my head at him fondly again before I left the flat. Walking out to the street. I saw John ahead of me walking down the street and I called after him and he turned back as I ran down the street to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" John asked me as I caught up with him and caught my breath as I followed him down the street. It was actually slightly warmer outside than it was in the flat, but it was still cold so I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"The store," I told John and he grinned at me and I smiled back at him. "We both know he would have forgotten to go," I added and John nodded at me as we both laughed.

"So you two…," John started, raising an eyebrow at me and giving me a knowing look.

"Don't go there John," I warned the army doctor, cutting him off before he could continue and giving him a warning look. "Whatever you are thinking you are probably wrong," I told him and he nodded at me, listening to my warning.

What happened next happened in a blur. One minute John and I were walking down the street together as John was going to see me to the store at the corner before heading off to Sarah's and the next minute a large black SUV came skidding to a stop beside us and two men jumped out of the car and grabbed John and I. I cried out before the man holding me put a hand over my mouth and I bit down on it, earning a punch in the gut for my troubles. I continued to struggle as did John who had his arms roughly pulled behind his back as the man grabbing me ripped my arm out of its sling and twisted my arms behind my back as well. I cried out in pain again as the movement jarred my shoulder sending excruciating pain down my arm. After that I felt something sharp stab into my neck and then my vision started to blur as my body grew weaker and weaker as I realized that I had been drugged. Soon, I grew too weak to struggle against my captor and I ended up slumping down as my legs fell out from under me and they let me hit the pavement, not supporting my weight as I fell to my knees. I vaguely registered John and I being loaded into the back of the car the army doctor looking at me with a look of terror before I passed out.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock continued to gaze at the TV until he heard the downstairs door open and close signalling that Lexi had left the flat, then he picked up his computer notebook from where it was tucked down beside him. Putting it on his lap, he opened the lid and stared at the message box on his website The Science of Deduction before starting to type.

**Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect.**

He lifted his eyes in thought for a moment knowing the Lexi knew what he was doing or had a vague idea yet she had gone out without stopping him. He would have suggested she go to the store anyway just to get her to leave the flat. She said she was afraid of the bomber and what he might know about her. Therefore, he would meet with him and take care of this case so she wouldn't have to meet him herself. He was being cautious as Lexi had wanted him to be and not letting his ego cloud his judgement. Curiosity ultimately won over however now that he knew that Moriarty was the man behind this all. He could both listen to what Lexi told him and go and meet Moriarty. He quirked a small smile before returning to his typing.

**The Pool. Midnight.**

He sent the message, then closed the lid, gazing thoughtfully into the distance. It was time to meet the man who seemed to be a fan of Sherlock and Lexi. Sherlock also had to know how a man like Moriarty first got interested in the Irish girl that had completely consumed every one of his thoughts and now had taken over his heart, making him feel slightly human for the first time in his life. For once Sherlock disagreed with what Mycroft had instilled in him for so long, caring could be an advantage.

**Lexi's POV**

I woke up in a lighted room and I scrunched my eyes tightly as the light pervaded my senses. The strong smell of chlorine reached my nose and I grimaced in disgust as it permeated my nose. On reflection, my head was pounding like I had been hit over the head with a mallet, my arm felt like the joint was straining in the socket and about to break, and my whole body ached which was probably from the effects of whatever drug John and I had been given. My eyes suddenly flashed open in panic as the entire scene came back to me. John! We had been drugged and kidnapped from off of the street together. I looked around the white, clinically white, room not seeing the army doctor anywhere. What I did see however was the man standing before me in an immaculate suit,

Westwood, who had dark brown eyes that made them almost look black and black hair that was slicked back as he chewed a piece of gum and just stared back at me as I looked at him coldly. Inside I felt the fear as I realized that I was tied to a chair. I had woken up in this sort of situation before and I was not going to let the same thing happen to me again. The terror in me rose when I looked up at that face and I knew exactly who he was because I remembered everything now. In my entire life, there was only one thing I could ever delete and that was all memories of him and for good reason.

"Ah there we go. I was starting to worry that you weren't going to wake up," The man, Moriarty said as I glared back at him coldly. His voice washed over me and I shuddered internally, remembering when I had heard it before seven years ago. He didn't sound worried at all, but then again, he wouldn't be. The Irish lilt to his voice was quite noticeable now and I congratulated myself for having noticed that it should have been there before.

"You," I spat at him and he had the never to grin at me slightly. "I might have known. Well I did. Took me a while but I figured it out in the end. It's nice to know I was right," I told Moriarty, my voice void of any emotion. It didn't sound at all like me. It sounded like another person's voice, someone who was cold and uncaring.

"You've always been clever like that. It's why I like you. You're not ordinary, not like Sherlock," He said in the voice that annoyed me to no end. It always had a sing song quality to it. "Ordinary people are just so adorable. It's nice to see you again, well, this is the first time we've met in person," Moriarty said as I watched him carefully, twisting my arm slightly to see how strong my bonds were. I was handcuffed to the chair. Nice, I had a possibility of escaping.

"Well last time didn't go so well for you if I remember correctly," I told him, biding my time as I tried to keep him talking so I could get out of the handcuffs. He didn't have a gun on him and while I was injured, I would use my arm and break my own shoulder first before I let anyone hold me captive again. Take down Moriarty swiftly, find John and get the hell out of here. From the heavy smell of chlorine and the white room I would say were in some sort of indoor pool complex. "Where's John?" I asked the man to both ascertain that he was here as well and change the subject.

"Johnny boy is just fine. Just us girls here," Moriarty said making a face I never wanted to see again in my life as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Let's gossip. Have you heard the story about the little Irish girl who was too afraid of the big bad criminal that she left Ireland?" Moriarty said bring us right back to the conversation I did not want to have with him.

"You're not that frightening," I lied and he laughed at me as I managed to get one of the hair pins I kept hidden up my sleeve out and started working on the lock.

"Did I leave you with that little of an impression of me?" Moriarty asked me and I glared at him coldly. This was the man that had made me change my life. He was the reason for everything that had happened to me and he was the only person I was afraid of because I knew. I knew that under this calm outer countenance that he was displaying that there was something darker and more sinister lurking. That feeling of being hunted when I saw him at the hospital was a natural defensive mechanism, telling you to run as fast and as far away from him as possible. It took me until my memories came flooding back to realize why Jim from IT had left me feeling so unsettled.

"You're a psychopath," I spat at him and he grinned, unperturbed by my comment.

"Thank you," He told me and I shook my head at him as I managed to get the first lock undone.

"I didn't mean it as a compliment," I spat at him and he laughed again, the sound being something that would haunt me for the rest of my life, if I lived I had a plan but Moriarty was still dangerous. I only had the element of surprise on my hands.

"Yes you did, because you Lexi…I can call you Lexi right? I mean we are friends aren't we?" Moriarty asked me and I glared at him angrily. "Or would you prefer beautiful bird?" He asked me and I paled instantly at the name. "Oooh hooo, we don't like that do we?" Moriarty asked me as my blood froze. He knew the name because he had been watching me. He watched Alistair and me. I shuddered visibly, my composure slipping. I never knew to the extent he had gone to get my attention before, but now I was starting to work it out. "You Lexi are like me," Moriarty said, finishing what he was going to say earlier.

"I'm nothing like you," I spat at him, my anger returning and turning into rage. "You are sick and twisted and you use people like puppets for your own game. Is that what this has all been, a game? You've tried that before with me," I told Moriarty, keeping him talking as I was having issues with the second lock as my right arm didn't really want to move. In fact, I really couldn't move it at all. I was running on adrenaline right now so most of the pain was being kept at bay but as soon as the shock set in I was going to feel it. I had to therefore act quickly so that I could get John and me out before I broke down.

"I got bored. Decided to have a little fun with you and Sherlock," Moriarty said as he shrugged at me. "I thought it was time to get better acquainted again. I did try before, but well, you stuck your nose in a place it didn't belong," Moriarty said and I narrowed my eyes at him as it finally clicked.

"The serial killer who kidnapped me was working for you. He said I had a fan. So did the taxi driver. You sponsored two serial killers. Why?" I asked Moriarty, wanting answers now.

"Well, I did try to spice things up for you, but you went somewhere you didn't belong and that was very, very, bad," Moriarty said, shaking his head and scolding me. "You weren't supposed to get yourself killed so daddy had to call in the Calvary. I almost thought you weren't going to make it. As for the cabbie well, I did have to get you back again," Moriarty told me and I watched him passively. He had sponsored the taxi driver just to get me to take a case again.

"And Sherlock, where does he fit into all of this?' I asked Moriarty as I fumbled with the lock again.

"Well after you stopped playing," Moriarty said giving me a look a mother might give her child if she was unhappy with them. "I had to find a new play thing. Sherlock was so fun to play with. He's almost as clever as you. Imagine my surprise when I found out you two had met. And I really was surprised," Moriarty told me as he took a step closer to me. I froze for a second before working on the lock more vigorously.

"So the plan wasn't to get us working together?" I asked Moriarty curiously.

"Mmmm no, but isn't it fascinating how things work out. I've had more fun playing with the both of you then you two alone. Did you like my little messages I've sent you?" Moriarty asked me as he stopped two feet in front of me so I was forced to look up at him now.

"Oh, like the bomb?" I scoffed and he nodded. "You might have wanted to tell your friends in the Tong to be a bit gentler. They were going to kill us," I told Moriarty and he nodded at me again only almost sadly this time.

"I know," Moriarty said mournfully. "You just can't find good help these days," Moriarty said as he reached out and grabbed a strand of my hair that had fallen in front of my face and rubbed it. "Enough about that though. We really are alike you and I," Moriarty said, shushing at me when I went to interrupt him. "Manners," He scolded me, shaking his head at me. "As I was saying. We're alike you and I. I could give you everything that you need. I could use your skills. You could make England fall to her knees, make any request and have it be granted. I can give you the danger you crave. It is sexier don't you think?" Moriarty asked me and so the penny dropped. That was his entire plan from the start. He wanted me to join him so he could use me for his own games. He didn't want me to just join him though, he wanted me to be his. I shuddered slightly in disgust.

I quickly deduced several things about him. One, he was delusional, especially if he thought I was anything like him and was going to join him. Two, he was obsessed with me and with Sherlock which did not bode well for us. He was convinced that we were like him which was why he was playing his games with us. Three, he was dangerous, highly dangerous and for some reason he wanted me to…date him. I didn't know what exactly he expected but I was having none of that. I would personally kill him before I let him touch me. The lock clicked on the second handcuff and I watched him as the room seemed to move in slow motion as he reached out to touch my face. I had to go now. I had the element of surprise on hand and I needed to use it and get out of there quickly. If I waited there might not be a chance to escape. Plan, incapacitate Moriarty, find John, get John out, call Sherlock, alert Mycroft, and have John run. I wasn't going to get too far, but I was damned as hell going to get John out of this. One of us was going to live. I wasn't going to leave Sherlock alone.

"I would never join you," I told Moriarty with conviction before I sprung up out of the chair. I moved quickly, finding that I had no use of my right arm at all. I smacked Moriarty's hand away first that was reach towards me before I kicked him swiftly in the chest. I wasn't expecting him to react quickly and he grabbed my foot and twisted and I cried out in pain as he threw me to the floor and I managed to roll at the last second so that I landed on my left shoulder instead of my right. My head hit the floor and I saw black spots cloud my vision as Moriarty towered over me, his face no longer calm but morphed into a look of pure unbridled rage.

"You little bitch!" Moriarty shouted at me before his foot made contact with my ribs and I cried out in pain as the next blow came from his fist hitting me in the face. He kicked me again as I curled in on myself. "You ungrateful bitch!" Moriarty swore at me before he knocked me round the head and I passed out again. When I woke up again I was not alone, but I wasn't with Moriarty either. I panicked at first when I felt hands on my face and I desperately struggled to get away from whomever was touching me before I heard his voice.

"Lexi. Lexi it's me," John said hurriedly as I cried out in pain, feeling tears running down my cheeks. "Don't move… you… you can't move much," John told me as I opened my eyes before disregarding everything he said and flinging myself at him, wrapping my arm around him as I cried silently. He was alive. He was safe and he looked unhurt. I hadn't failed Sherlock. I would get John out of this alive.

"John," I whispered as he held me to him gingerly.

"Hey, hey, there, it's going to be okay," John told me calmly as he sat me back against the wall. "Just don't move yeah. You have a few broken ribs. The bastard brought you in a little while ago. I'm proud of you. You fought back," John told me as he rubbed my cheekbone with his thumb. "Just… just hang in there. We're going to be fine. We're going to get out of this," John assured me as he tried to calm me down and I nodded at him as I stopped crying. No, I wasn't going to cry because that was exactly what he wanted, to break me, and that was one thing no one was ever going to do.

"John, I know him," I told the army doctor quickly and he breathed in a quick breath in shock. "He was the reason I left Ireland. The only thing I was ever able to forget," I told John before looking down as I realized he was wearing a large parka. "John," I said scrambling as I tried to sit up as I realized he was covered in Semtex.

"Shh. It's going to be okay. Just don't move much. I don't want you puncturing a lung and really, you shouldn't move much," John told me and the way he was talking was telling me that he was trying to keep me very calm and not panicking. I looked down when his eyes flickered downward and I saw that I was covered in as much Semtex as he was and that someone had pulled another parka over me. I let out a little sob which caught in my throat. I had failed Sherlock. John and I were both going to die and he was going to be alone all over again. I had promised him I would be there for him, always. John shushed me and rubbed his thumb over my cheek slowly as I cried out in pain as the sobbing jarred my ribs and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. "Just stay very calm for me," John told me and I nodded at him taking in a few deep breaths. A door suddenly opened behind John's shoulder and he looked back, staying in front of me as Moriarty walked in.

"Show time boys and girls! Any volunteers?" Moriarty asked John before his gaze fell on me. "Thank you for offering," Moriarty said as he walked towards me but John blocked him.

"Don't touch her," He growled at Moriarty who laughed as I watched a red dot appear on his chest.

"Nice try Johnny boy," Moriarty said as John sighed in defeat and Moriarty reached down and dragged me to my feet before cramming an ear piece into my ear none to gently. I cried out in pain as my ribs were jarred again, but I bit my lip to hold back the whimper, not wanting to give Moriarty that satisfaction. "This is how it's going to work. You are going to repeat everything I tell you exactly or Johnny boy here gets shot," Moriarty told me as he dragged me out of the room and pushed me towards a door. I saw that he had another person holding John, probably one of his many people that worked for him. More than a man. A man with enough influence and people working for him that he could get anything he wanted, except for me. "Now get out there," Moriarty told me as he shoved me towards the door and I stumbled a bit, whimpering in pain as my full weight was supported by my own feet rather than Moriarty dragging me along. When he grabbed my foot he had twisted something in it and it felt like it was sprained, possibly broken. "Oh and let him know your injured and I kill Johnny boy too," Moriarty told me and I closed my eyes, knowing exactly who it was when I heard his voice calling out in the next room. It was Sherlock, my Sherlock.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock opened the door leading into the area surrounding the indoor swimming pool where he was supposed to meet this Moriarty. He knew that Lexi would kill him herself if she knew what he had done, but he couldn't leave now. He could handle her later after all of this. She would know something was wrong however when she returned to the flat and he wasn't there which is why he had left her a note telling her that he would be back soon and had gone to talk with Lestrade at the Yard. He estimated that he had about half an hour before she could hack his phone and find him. She had been suspicious of him back at the flat, but hadn't said anything. The lights were on around the pool but there was nobody else around. When he had left Baker Street he had taken his coat and scarf off and was just wearing his suit as he could change that easily, but he couldn't get certain smells out of his coat like gunpowder. That would certainly tip Lexi off that he wasn't where he said he was. Sherlock walked slowly towards the shallow end of the pool, very aware off the upper gallery where people sat and watched the swimmers was still in darkness. He stopped at the edge of the pool and turned, trying to see up into the area of the gallery above his head. Finally he turned towards the pool again, raising one hand and holding up the memory stick.

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making us dance – all to distract us from this," Sherlock called loudly as he gestured with the memory stick, then began to turn in a slow circle as he waited for a response. When his back was turned to the pool, a door opened halfway down the room. Sherlock looked over his shoulder, still holding the memory stick aloft. And Lexi walked through the door and into the pool area, wrapped snugly in a hooded jacket with her hands tucked into the pockets. She turned and looked at Sherlock as the detective stared back at her in absolute shock.

"Evening," She said, her voice light and calm, but her eyes weren't. Her eyes looked a bit sunken in and haunted and slightly red streaked as if she had been crying. But there was also a fierce determination in them and strength. Sherlock slowly lowered his raised hand but otherwise he didn't move, still staring over his shoulder in utter disbelief. It had been her all along. This is why the bomber hadn't had direct communication with them because it would have been so obvious to tell that it was her. But…it couldn't be her. Not after everything they had been through. Not to mention the Lexi he knew could have never done this. Unless she was playing him from the very beginning when she decided to move in, getting under his skin, gain his trust, until he cracked and gave into her. Until he gave in completely and kissed her. It was all a game and once she finally won, finally made him care about her, she betrayed him. "This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" She asked as she moved closer to him.

"Lexi. What the hell...?" Sherlock asked her softly in shock, feeling betrayed. This is why Mycroft said caring wasn't an advantage. He cared and this is what he got for it.

"Bet you never saw this coming," Lexi remarked and Sherlock caught her wince slightly as she walked forward. Finally Sherlock managed to move, and started to walk slowly towards the girl he had believed to be his friend and possibly love until now. The shock and bewilderment on his face made him look about twelve years old. "Lexi, the girl that was so desperate to impress, who just wanted to be noticed. Pathetic isn't it?" Lexi asked her voice cracking slightly. Then, with a look of despair that matched Sherlock's, Lexi took her hands from her pockets and pulled open her jacket to reveal the bomb strapped to her chest. A sniper's laser immediately began to dance around over the bomb. "What ... would you like me ... to make her say ... next?" Lexi asked Sherlock as he continued to step towards her but now he was looking everywhere but at Lexi as he tried to see who else was in the area. "Gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer," She said obviously narrating words spoken into an earpiece. Her voice almost broke on the last phrase.

"Stop it," Sherlock said dangerously as he looked at Lexi who had a look in her eyes that he didn't like at all. She was terrified and if her wince was any indication she was also hurt and she was being used.

"Nice touch, this, the pool where little Carl died," Lexi narrated before continuing. "I stopped him," Lexi said and she tried not to cringe as she listened to the next words. "I can stop Lexi MacKenna too," Lexi said as she looked down at the laser point on her chest. "Stop her heart."

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked turning on the spot as he tried to look in all directions. A door opened at the far end of the pool and a soft male voice with an Irish accent spoke from that direction.

"I gave you my number," The voice said and Lexi shuddered visibly. Sherlock got a brief glimpse of a man wearing a suit and tie, but he was currently mostly obscured by a column. "I thought you might call," The man continued plaintively and Sherlock turned towards the new arrival, who now slowly walked out into the open. It was Jim, Molly's boyfriend. But this wasn't the fumble-fingered casually-dressed Londoner he had met; this was a sharply-dressed man with immaculate hair and a murderous look on his face. With his hands in his pockets, he casually began to stroll alongside the deep end of the pool, heading towards Sherlock and Lexi. All hint of plaintiveness had now gone from his voice. "Is that British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket...," The man asked as Sherlock reached down to his trouser pocket and removed his pistol from it. "...or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Both," Sherlock said raising the pistol and aiming it towards Jim. Jim stopped and looked back at him, unafraid.

"Jim Moriarty. Hi!" Moriarty said and Sherlock tilted his head as he looked more closely at the man. Jim acted as if he needed to remind Sherlock who he was. Lexi had frozen as soon as Moriarty stepped into the room which told Sherlock that he was right and something had happened before he got there. She flinched when she heard his voice which was the second indication. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Moriarty asked as he began to walk alongside the deep end again. Sherlock brought up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun and Jim bit his lip as if disappointed. "Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point. "Moriarty said as he turned to face Sherlock just as the sniper's laser flickered over Lexi's upper chest. Sherlock briefly turned his head towards Lexi, a questioning look on his face. "Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty," Moriarty said as he continued walking before he reached the corner of the pool and opened a door behind him dragging John out of the room. Sherlock saw that he also had a large jacket on which when it fell open slightly revealed that he also had a bomb strapped onto him. He looked straight at Sherlock before his eyes flickered to Lexi, worry filling them as Lexi stood completely still. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, Lexi, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see...," Moriarty said as he looked surprised, as if he had only just realized the connection. "...like you two!"

"Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?" Sherlock said as Moriarty started to walk forward again dragging John along with him and he grinned as he recognized the TV show and catchphrase that Sherlock was quoting. "Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"

"Dear Jim. Please will you help me leave money to my children after I die?" Lexi added and Sherlock looked over at her as he realized what she was talking about. He sponsored the serial killer that was behind their first case together. The reason that Lexi had gotten back into solving cases.

"Just so," Moriarty said as he stopped again, John glaring at him murderously and Sherlock could tell why. Though Lexi was trying very hard it seemed, her composure was slipping and her face showed how much pain she was in. From where Sherlock was now standing he could see a bruise starting to form on her right cheek along with a slight cut on her cheekbone which meant she had been punched by someone wearing a ring.

"Consulting criminal," Sherlock said softly. "Brilliant," He finished and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Hardly," She said venom dripping from the single world and Jim smiled proudly and in amusement as his gaze flicked over to her.

"Isn't it?" Jim asked, seemingly ignoring the comment Lexi had made. "No-one ever gets to me – and no-one ever will."

"We did," Sherlock told him as he cocked the pistol. Lexi's shoulders were tense as she stood staring at Sherlock who could tell that she was taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself as she seemed to be concentrating on something. She just kept watching him and looking at his face as if she was trying to focus on that rather than Moriarty who was behind her.

"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way," Moriarty told them and Lexi flinched again at those words.

"Thank you," Sherlock told Moriarty as Lexi laughed breathlessly.

"Aye, I feel so special," She said sarcastically and Jim flicked his gaze over to her again, a slight bit of annoyance flashing in his eyes. She was doing it on purpose, trying to piss him off now.

"Didn't mean it as a compliment," Moriarty told them and Lexi snorted.

"Yes you did," Sherlock told him carefully as he watched Lexi whom John was also watching.

Moriarty shrugged before answering him. "Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock, Lexi...," He said as his voice became high-pitched and sing-song. "Daddy's had enough now!" Moriarty sang as he started to stroll closer again dragging John with him who went with him as he also had a sniper's laser pointed on his chest. Moriarty returned to his normal voice as he continued to talk. "I've shown you two what I can do. I cut lose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. Took more than that to get Lexi to come back out to play," Moriarty said as John started to feel the strain and closed his eyes briefly. Sherlock's eyes couldn't help but flicker across to him and Lexi a couple of times as he tried to keep his focus on the man approaching them with John. He had to get Lexi out of there soon. She was very pale and she looked like she was going to go into shock soon. "So take this as a friendly warning, my dears. Back off," Mori arty told them and he smiled. "Although I have loved this – this little game of ours," Moriarty continued as he put on his London accent for a moment. "Playing Jim from I.T," He said before he switched back to his Irish accent. "Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"

"People have died," Sherlock pointed out. Lexi had been right, she had told him to be careful with Moriarty because she knew. The fear he saw in her now was not just fear because of their situation, no, she knew more about Moriarty, what he was capable of and Sherlock felt that if he had to guess, this had something to do with Dublin. It wasn't that difficult of a leap. She had started her consultant business in Dublin and then had just moved to London out of the blue. Then there was the fact that both Moriarty and Lexi were Irish. This wasn't her first encounter with the man, but she hadn't remembered his name and she claimed she could remember everything so why? Why had she forgotten him? Most people did when they experienced trauma, forgot events and people. Trauma she experienced just before she really started with the drugs.

"That's what people DO!" Moriarty yelled screaming the last word furiously, his personality changing in an instant. Lexi flinched when he shouted and closed her eyes tightly for a moment before she opened them and stared back at Sherlock.

"I will stop you," Sherlock warned him softly and Lexi nodded her head slightly.

"As will I. I didn't once, I won't make the same mistake again," Lexi told him her voice unwavering, answering Sherlock's thoughts. So she had met him before or at least come into contact with him.

"No you won't," Moriarty said, calmer now as Sherlock looked across to John and Lexi.

"You all right?" Sherlock asked them and John deliberately kept his gaze away from his him, presumably having been given instructions earlier about not talking to him. Lexi however keep her gaze steadily on him and met his eyes when he looked over at her. Jim walked forward again and reached her side, John next to Lexi rather than Moriarty which she, John, and Sherlock all seemed thankful for.

"You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead. I guess you can too Beautiful Bird," Moriarty told them though he hadn't really needed to give Lexi permission as she had spoken anyway. Refusing to specifically obey Jim's orders, John meet Sherlock's eyes and nodded once as did Lexi. Sherlock took one hand off the pistol and held out the memory stick towards Moriarty.

"Take it," Sherlock told him, offering him the memory stick.

"Huh? Oh! That!" Moriarty asked as he let go of John and strolled past Lexi and John and reached out for the stick, grinning. "The missile plans!" He continued as he took the stick from Sherlock's fingers and brought it to his mouth, kissing it. Behind him, John was silently murmuring to Lexi, perhaps trying to keep her focussed and calm or perhaps he was winding himself up to take action Sherlock didn't know what, but John looked murderously at Moriarty after Lexi muttered something to him. Jim lowered the memory stick and looked at it. "Boring!" He said in a sing-song voice as he shook his head. "I could have got them anywhere," Moriarty said as he nonchalantly tossed the stick into the pool. Seeing his opportunity, John suddenly raced forward and slammed himself up against Jim's back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his chest as Lexi watched him in horror, taking an involuntary step away from them bringing her closer towards Sherlock before stumbling slightly, Sherlock catching her arm and steadying her before she fell. Sherlock backed up a step in surprise as well but kept the pistol raised and aimed at Moriarty as Lexi stood near him within arm's length.

"Sherlock, run! Lexi, just go!" John yelled at them as Lexi clutched her side after crying out slightly in pain and screwing up her face, biting her lip to keep herself quiet as Jim laughed in delight.

"Good! Very good," Moriarty laughed and Sherlock didn't move, still aiming his gun at Jim's head but now he started to look up a little anxiously, wondering what action the hidden sniper might take. He noticed that there were two snipers both trained on John now. The one trained on John was moving around a lot, but the one that had been trained on Lexi was still, better aim and concentration and had been pointing at a spot just lower than her heart.

"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up," John said savagely as Lexi watched them, panting as she bent over slightly clutching her side.

"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you two like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets," Moriarty told Sherlock and Lexi. Grimacing angrily, John pulled him even closer onto the bomb that was now sandwiched between them. Jim scowled round at him. "They're so touchingly loyal. But, oops!" Moriarty said as he grinned briefly at John, then looked towards Sherlock. "You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson," Moriarty continued and he chuckled as a new laser point appeared in the middle of Sherlock's forehead and right over Lexi's heart. John stared in horror as Jim looked round at him expectantly. Sherlock, saw the edge of the laser beam shining from the gallery and realized what was happening from John's expression before he turned and saw that Lexi had the sniper laser trained on her as well. Sherlock shook his head slightly at John. "Gotcha!" Moriarty said in a sing-song voice. He chuckled as John released his grip on him and stepped back, holding his hands up to signal to the sniper that he wouldn't be trying anything else. Jim glanced round at him, then turned back towards Sherlock and Lexi, who was trying to stand up straight and was failing now as she held her side, while brushing his hands down his suit to straighten it. He gestured to it indignantly. "Westwood!" Moriarty said as he lowered his hands and stood calmly in front of Lexi and Sherlock who was still aiming the pistol at his head. "D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, Lexi, to you?" Moriarty asked them, flicking his gaze over to Lexi who glared back at him coldly, a look in her eyes that Sherlock never wanted to see again.

"Oh, let me guess, we get killed," Sherlock said boredly as Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"How very typical and cliché of you. I would have expected something with a little more flare for the dramatic from you," Lexi scoffed and Moriarty eyed her with a murderous look.

"Kill you?" Moriarty grimaced as he looked back at Sherlock. "N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway someday. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you," Moriarty told the two detectives as he ran his eyes briefly down Sherlock and Lexi's bodies, then met their eyes again and his voice became vicious. "I'll burn the heart out of you," He told Sherlock before turning to Lexi. "And when I'm done with you, you will wish you didn't have one," He told her as they stared each other down. Moriarty's face had turned into snarl as he said the word 'heart' but at the end of the sentence he looked almost regretful.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock told Moriarty softly in reference to him "burning" the heart out of him.

"But we both know that's not quite true," Moriarty told him as his gaze flicked over to Lexi first and he smirked at her before looking back at John. Sherlock blinked involuntarily and Jim looked down, smiling, then shrugged. "Well, I'd better be off," Moriarty told them as he nonchalantly looked around, perhaps checking his exit route, before turning back to Sherlock and Lexi. "Well, so nice to have had a proper chat," Moriarty told them and Sherlock raised the pistol higher and extended it closer to Jim's head.

"What if I was to shoot you now – right now?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked over at him for the first time in the last few minutes.

"I would thank you for that," Lexi told the consulting detective who blinked slightly at how honest she was being. She really did want him to shoot Moriarty.

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face," Moriarty told Sherlock, ignoring what Lexi had said seemingly completely unperturbed by both of them. He opened his eyes and mouth wide, mimicking surprise, then grinned at the two detectives. "'Cos I'd be surprised, Sherlock; really I would," Moriarty said as he screwed up his nose. "And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long," Moriarty told the pair as he slowly began to turn away. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes. Beannacht maith Lexi MacKenna [Good bye]," Moriarty told them, switching into Gaelic as he looked back at Sherlock and Lexi with some distaste. He walked calmly towards the side door which Lexi came through earlier. Sherlock slowly stepped forward to keep him in his sights.

"Catch ... you ... later," Sherlock told him as the door opened and Jim's voice could be heard, high-pitched and sing-song responding.

"No you won't!" He sang as the door closed. Sherlock didn't move for a few seconds, his gun still aimed towards the door, then his gaze drifted across to Lexi and John and he instantly bent, putting the pistol on the floor, then dropped to his knees in front of Lexi who needed his attention more as he started unfastening the vest to which the bomb was attached.

"All right?" Sherlock asked her frantically as he unfastened the vest and pushed her coat off her shoulders leaving her in her grey coat as she tilted her head back, breathing heavily, her breaths slightly laboured. Sherlock scrambled to help John out of his own set up as soon as Lexi was out of her bomb jacket. "Are you two all right?" Sherlock asked the two of them urgently.

"Yeah-yeah, I'm fine," John answered him as Sherlock jumped up and hurried round behind John and started pulling the jacket and bomb vest off of him in one go like he had Lexi's. "I'm fine," John assured him as he looked to Lexi who was clutching her side her eyes scrunched up in pain. "But Lexi isn't, the bastard broke three of her ribs," John told him and Sherlock growled audibly. He was also breathing too fast as he continued trying to tug the jacket and vest off. John's was on better than Lexi's had been which told him that Lexi was a last minute decision. "Sherlock," John said as Sherlock finally managed to roughly strip the jacket and vest off John's arms. "Sh-Sherlock!" John said again as he bent and skimmed John and Lexi's coats as far away along the floor as he could, while John staggered at the vehemence with which Sherlock just ripped them off him. "Jesus," John said softly as he quickly went over to Lexi and held her, pulling the ear piece from her ear for her, breathing heavily as the delayed shock began to hit him. If it was hitting him, it was hitting Lexi harder. She was shaking like a leaf and Sherlock turned and stared at them for a moment, assuring himself that John had Lexi in his care before he hurried back to pick up the pistol then raced towards the door that Moriarty left through. Lexi's knees buckled as John held her up and he staggered towards the nearest support, which was the edge of one of the changing cubicles and slowly helped to support her. He pushed back his own shock, his first priority now to see to Lexi who needed medical attention now. "Oh, Christ," John said as he helped the very pale Lexi down onto the floor, bracing her back against the cubicle's edge as she blew out a long breath and tried to calm herself down, breathing through the pain. Sherlock came back in, having not seen any sign of Moriarty outside. He started to pace up and down near John and Lexi, so hyper and distracted that he didn't even realise that he was scratching his head with the business end of a loaded and cocked pistol. "Are you okay?" John asked Sherlock breathlessly as he knelt down next to Lexi on his knees. He tenderly checked her ribs, feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest as she bit her lip to hold in a scream. She hadn't punctured anything yet, but he couldn't move her much yet.

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine," Sherlock told the army doctor quick fire, still pacing and scratching his head with the gun. He turned to John and Lexi, wide-eyed and breathless. "That, er ... thing that you, er, that you did; that, um ...," Sherlock told John clearing his throat. "...you offered to do. That was, um ... good."

"I'm glad no-one saw that," John told Sherlock staring blankly ahead of himself as Lexi looked up at them, blinking slowly. She seemed calmer now as she watched Sherlock and John and her rapid breathing had slowed down so that it was normal now. Sherlock had temporarily lowered his hand long enough to not be risking accidentally shooting himself in the head – although he had terrible jitters as he held the gun down by his side. He lifted the gun again as he raised his hand to rub his chin while looking down at John who was kneeling next to Lexi in confusion.

"Hmm?" Sherlock asked him distractedly as his eyes met Lexi's. Sherlock's top priority now was getting her help.

"You, ripping our clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk," John told him, still not meeting his eyes as he did a full once over of Lexi. Sherlock shrugged in response as Lexi laughed breathlessly before wincing as the movement jarred her shoulder and ribs.

"People do little else," Sherlock told him, looking down at him and grinning before he was about to suggest that they call an ambulance and Lestrade as they couldn't move Lexi out of there themselves. John snorted laughter, then leaned forward and prepared to stand up so he could help Lexi up. Before he could move, the beam from a sniper's laser began to dance over his chest and Lexi's. John looked down at it and his face filled with horror, but Lexi only stared up at Sherlock calmly.

"Oh...," John said in anguish as a door near the deep end of the pool opened and Moriarty came through, clapping his hands together and turning to face the three of them.

"Sorry, boys and girls! I'm soooooo changeable!" Moriarty said cheerfully as John grimaced in disbelief. Sherlock kept his back to Jim, looking up into the gallery to try and judge how many snipers there might be up there. It was becoming clear that there were quite a few because there were at least two laser points hovering over John, four were trained on Lexi, and at least three more were travelling over Sherlock's body. Jim laughed and spread his arms wide. "It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness," Moriarty said as he lowered his hands and put them in his pockets. Sherlock turned his head and looked down at John, who lifted his own head to meet his gaze as Lexi watched him carefully, raising one eyebrow.

"And here I was thinking you also had a weakness for long walks on the beach in the moonlight, a good glass of wine, a romantic comedy, a good book, and possibly Duran Duran," Lexi remarked as she turned and looked at Moriarty who grinned dangerously back at her, but then swept his gaze back to Sherlock.

"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you two but ...," Moriarty said, ignoring Lexi's comment like he had all her others as he laughed and his voice became sing-song again "... everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!" Sherlock, who had looked away for a moment turned and looked down at John and Lexi again, his face showed no emotion but his eyes screamed a silent request. John responded instantly with a tiny nod, giving him full permission to do whatever he deemed necessary.

_'It's alright love. Do it,'_ Lexi told him with one look as the corners of her mouth raised slightly in a reassuring smile.

'_You would let me?_' Sherlock asked her frowning slightly at that in confusion.

'_I trust you,'_ Lexi told him simply as she nodded slightly. '_I love you,'_ She told him for encouragement before Sherlock turned to face Jim.

"Probably our answer has crossed yours," Sherlock told Moriarty as he raised the pistol and aimed it at him. Jim smiled confidently, with no fear in his expression. Slowly Sherlock lowered the pistol downwards until it was pointing directly at the bomb jackets. All four sets of eyes lock onto the jacket, John breathing heavily, Sherlock and Lexi calm. Moriarty tilted his head, looking a little anxious for the first time. As Sherlock held his hand steady, continuing to aim towards the jacket, Moriarty lifted his head and locked eyes with his nemesis. Sherlock gazed back at him and Moriarty begins to smile. Sherlock's eyes narrowed slightly. They continued to stare at each other before they were interrupted as the introduction to The Bee Gees' song "Stayin' Alive" began to play tinnily. Sherlock and John look around, confused as Lexi rolled her eyes in exasperation and looked at Moriarty who briefly closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"D'you mind if I get that?" He asked the three of them and Lexi gestured at him wincing slightly as she moved.

"By all means. I mean, it's not like we're busy with anything," Lexi told him nonchalantly as Sherlock also answered him just as calmly.

"No, no, please. You've got the rest of your life," Sherlock told him and Moriarty took his phone from his pocket and answered it.

"Hello? ... Yes, of course it is. What do you want?" Moriarty asked as he mouthed 'Sorry' at Sherlock and Lexi. Sherlock sarcastically mouthed 'Oh, it's fine' back at him as Lexi just as sarcastically mouthed 'Take all the time you need'. Jim rolled his eyes as he listened to the phone, turning away from Sherlock and Lexi for a moment, then he spun back around, his face full of fury. "SAY THAT AGAIN!" Moriarty roared into the phone and Sherlock frowned. "Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you," Moriarty threatened whomever he was talking too venomously. He hissed out the 's' of 'skin'. Sherlock briefly looked round at John and Lexi who was watching Moriarty with a slight frown, one eyebrow raised thought fully. "Wait," Moriarty told the person he was talking to before he lowered the phone and began to walks forward. Sherlock looked at the bomb jacket and fretfully adjusted the grip on his pistol as Moriarty approached. Moriarty stopped at the jacket and gazed down at the ground thoughtfully before lifting his eyes to Sherlock and Lexi "Sorry. Wrong day to die," Moriarty told them.

"Oh. Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked him casually as Lexi snorted. Moriarty looked down at the phone, then turned and slowly started to walk away.

"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock, Lexi," Moriarty said as he strolled back around the pool towards the door through which he originally came, lifting the phone to his ear again. "So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes," Moriarty told the person who had called him. Reaching the door, he raised his free hand and clicked his fingers. Instantly all the lasers focused on Sherlock, Lexi, and John disappeared. As Moriarty walked through the door and vanished from sight, Sherlock looked around the pool but couldn't see any sign of the retreating snipers. John sighed out a relieved breath.

"What happened there?" John asked the two detectives as Sherlock and Lexi exchanged a long look.

"Someone changed his mind. The question is, who?" Sherlock asked Lexi as she grimaced in both pain and confusion. If someone could change Moriarty's mind, what did they have to say that would get Moriarty's attention more than killing them. Lexi sighed before leaning her head back against the wall and Sherlock moved over to her and bent down, picking her up, being careful not to jar her shoulder or move her too much. Right now that didn't matter. All that mattered to Sherlock was Lexi.

**Lexi's POV**

The rest of the night happened in a blur for me. Once Moriarty left us again, this time for good, Sherlock picked me up, careful of my shoulder and not to move me too much because of my ribs as John got out his mobile and called Lestrade who sent us over an ambulance. Sherlock personally called Mycroft next and let him know everything that had happened. He sent out people to search for Moriarty and before long the ambulance arrived with one very tired Detective Inspector. He shook his head as he saw me and the paramedics loaded me onto a stretcher in the back of the ambulance. John and Sherlock loaded into the back with me after fighting with the paramedics, a fight that was ended with Lestrade telling them to let them come with me. I faded in and out from the pain in my side on the ride over to Bart's hospital. I was brought into the Emergency room as soon as we got to the hospital and that was when I was separated from my boys. I was wheeled into an x-ray room and x-rays were taken of my shoulder and ribs to find the extent to which they were damaged. I didn't really remember much after that, but when I woke up again it was to the sound of a constant, steady beeping. I refused to open my eyes to the harsh light and I let my body adjust as it came to wakefulness, taking cues from my environment.

From the smell of disinfectant and the beeping, I was in the hospital. My ribs were taped up and hurt as did my shoulder which felt slightly off in a weird way. I noticed the effects of the drugs right away. Morphine, a high dosage of it too. Lovely and I said it was only going to be a onetime thing. I noticed next that my hand was covered by something warm and I heard someone shift in the room, not beside me but across the room from me. I slowly peeled my eyes open, blinking as I got used to the bright light and slowly my vision cleared so that I was staring around the hospital room I was in. The person that had moved was John who was sleeping quietly on a chair, his head leaned back against the wall as he snored softly. I turned to the side and saw that the person holding my hand was Sherlock and like John, he was also asleep, his head laying on his other arm across the edge of my bed. I brought the hand he wasn't holding and the one I could actually move over to him and started carding my fingers through his hair as I smiled fondly at my sleeping detective. Slowly he began to stir and he lifted his head as I removed my hand from his hair and he blinked black sleep for a few moments before his eyes connected with mine.

"Lexi," He breathed softly and I could hear the relief layered in his voice. I brought my hand up to his cheek and rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone as he closed his eyes, breathing calmly, looking visibly relaxed under my touch.

"I'm alright love," I told him, the endearment slipping out and he opened his eyes and grinned slightly at me when he noticed it. "Now don't lie. How bad is it?" I asked him wincing slightly as I tried to sit up more and his hands immediately hovered over me as he helped me sit up. I laid back on the pillows and groaned a bit before sighing as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"You cracked three ribs on your left side, broke your left ankle, and…you needed surgery," Sherlock told me and I blinked back at him in surprise. "A part of the bone in your shoulder broke off and they needed to remove it and then they needed to go in and move your ribs back into place and remove the bone fragments," Sherlock told me wincing slightly and I nodded at him in understanding.

"Eh, I've had worse," I said shrugging before wincing again. "So how long do I have to stay here?" I asked Sherlock cringing slightly. I hate hospitals. Doctors, I was okay with doctors, but I hated having to stay in a hospital for any length of time.

"Another day at most. They want to make sure you are alright before they send you home. Not much they can do for you here while you are healing. John is a doctor and can more than well take care of anything you require," Sherlock told me and I groaned again.

"I don't know what's worse, my injuries or staying here," I said, pouting as Sherlock chuckled quietly so as not to wake up our army doctor. He quieted down before looking at me with a serious expression.

"What happened, after you left Baker Street?" Sherlock asked me and I sighed a bit, knowing he wasn't going to like anything I was about to tell him, but he had to know.

"I caught up with John. We were walking down the street together. He was going to see me to the store before walking to Sarah's but this van pulled up beside us and these men jumped out of it and grabbed John and I. We tried to fight them off but they drugged us. When I woke up I was in a room by myself handcuffed to a chair and Moriarty was there. I remembered where I knew him from. Back in Ireland, when I had my consultant business in Dublin I was put on a case. A message addressed to me showed up at a crime scene, well I say to me, but it was always written to Beautiful Bird. Alistair and my granddad were the only ones who called me that, but this person knew of the name. I narrowed it down to the fact that we had possibly crossed paths before. Anyway, more messages and more crime scenes before I heard from the man himself. He didn't use other people though, I actually heard from him and I recognized his voice. Moriarty, he had been brought in for some petty crimes while I was in the police office with Alistair after one of my first cases. He must have overheard Alistair and me talking which was how he knew of my nickname. He started a game, almost like this one with me. I got close to finding him, but then I ended up getting hurt. He truly scared me in more ways than even I knew. I could tell that under his calm outer demeanour there was something else. So I left Dublin and moved to London because I thought I could get away from him. It was the only thing I was ever able to forget, until now that is," I told Sherlock who listened to me calmly before he gestured for me to continue. I nodded at him and I took a deep breath before I explained the rest of it to him. "He sponsored the serial killer that kidnapped me and he was the one that tipped Mycroft off as to where I was which led to him contacting Lestrade which led to them coming to get me. He was never supposed to kill me. He sponsored the taxi driver as well because he knew I wouldn't be able to resist a case like that. When I stopped working cases he got interested in you. His interest is more like an obsession. He's convinced that I am like him and by extension you are also like him. He didn't expect us to meet and start working together though. He enjoyed sending us little messages, but again his people almost killed one of us so they had to go because the game wasn't over yet. This whole game was meant to play with us, but he thought our usefulness was up so he decided to kill us. Someone changed his mind though, but this isn't the last we've seen of him. He didn't let it be the last when I tried to get away from him the first time," I finished and Sherlock blinked back at me.

"And your injuries?" Sherlock prompted and I looked away from him. "Lexi," He said and he reached out and turned me back to look at him. I leaned into his comforting touch and sighed before answering him.

"He wanted me to join him but I refused. I managed to get free of the handcuffs and I tried to fight him. I needed to get out and find John so I could get him out. I didn't care about me because I knew the shock would hit me before I got out of there myself. I didn't anticipate him to be so on guard. He twisted my ankle and I fell and then he kicked me in the side before he hit me over the head and I got knocked out. When I woke up again I was with John and we both had the bombs strapped to us. Moriarty came back and threatened to shoot John if I didn't go out there and tell you everything he told me to. He also said he would shoot John if I let you know I was hurt because he wanted you to believe that I was Moriarty and that I had been from the start. He wanted you to think I betrayed you," I told Sherlock who shook his head quickly.

"No, that isn't you," He told me and I felt a little shocked by his out of character attitude. Well, it was out of character for anyone else who knew him, but around me, this was Sherlock.

It was as if he let his walls down too and let himself feel for once. That was why I loved the moments it was just the two of us, when he let his guard down a little and let me in. When he wasn't afraid to e this version of Sherlock. It was the same as Mycroft. The Mycroft everyone saw was the Mycroft I knew in private. The Holmes boys had two different sides of themselves, the one they presented to the world and the one the presented to a select few. Sherlock leaned forward and captured my lips with his own tentatively as if he wasn't sure if he could or not. He pulled back quickly and I could see the nervousness and hesitation in his eyes. This was new for him but I could see that he wanted to try and that was all I needed from him. I knew that every kiss he initiated was special because it meant that he wanted it, he wasn't doing it because he felt obligated too. I grinned back at him to let him know it was alright and he returned my smile with a little quirk of his lips. I reached out for his hand and he let me take it and I held it as I looked at him fondly. We would be more than alright as long as we had each other. No matter what the world tried to throw at us, as long as we stood side by side, we could face it all. Because the one thing you needed the most in the world was a hand to hold.

The next few days past quickly. I was discharged the next morning and Lestrade personally drove us back to Baker Street in his car. He gave me a long lecture about how I needed to be careful because it seemed like every case I had worked since I had gotten back into working case had ended with me getting hurt to some degree and I agreed to try and be more careful in the future. Secretly I vowed to start carrying a weapon on me anywhere I went just in case. Sherlock had set me up in his room as soon as we got back to the flat and he had carried me up the stairs as Mrs. Hudson tittered over me and went off to make me something to eat saying all I had eaten recently was hospital rubbish and that I needed a good home cooked meal. John didn't comment about Sherlock putting me in his room which I was thankful for because I didn't want to have that conversation right now. Sherlock stayed by my side the entire time and he rarely ever went far from me as I was healing, even refusing to take cases himself. I had six weeks of recovery ahead of me but the lucky part was that I wouldn't need to go through physical therapy. Besides, I could strengthen my shoulder again myself after I recovered as I was a doctor after all. Sherlock busied himself with keeping me comfortable. He brought me tea and would read to me. I managed to get him to watch several more movies with me on his laptop as we sort of cuddled in his bed. We exchanged a few more chaste kisses, but none of them escalated to the degree out first kiss had. We were taking things slowly and testing the waters as this was new ground for the both of us. We would just be for now and that was alright for me because I had my Sherlock and I had my army doctor and everything was alright in the world. We would meet Moriarty again and this time I wouldn't be the frightened child, no, this time he was going to see just how strong Lexi MacKenna was and just how strongly I would fight when anyone tried to hurt the people I loved. I was not to know however that across London a certain Dominatrix was getting ready to play an entirely different sort of game with us.


	55. The Geek Interpreter

**A/N ****Lookie! A mini chapter. Here we have the personal blog entries for the cases we never got to see in Sherlock and they work nicely to show the lapse in time and Lexi's recovery. I'm also starting a prompt series for Lock and Lexi so send in your prompts, they can even go back to their Uni days and hell I might just write one anyway. Send me some stuff to write. Little moments between our detectives. I don't write so much as what is happening between them right now until later after Scandal in Belgravia, but you'll see it through John's eyes. He isn't clueless. So seriously, send me a prompt I can shamelessly write during my boring classes. - Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson<strong>

**16 June**

**The ****Geek ****Interpreter**

Three young men came to Baker St. claiming that events in recent issues of a comic had started happening in real life. I know. We'd turned away mysterious deaths and worldwide conspiracies, but this was the one that Sherlock and Lexi were interested in. Chris Melas told us how he had this website. It was about a series of comic books based on the adventures of some superhero terrorist-fighting organization called KRATIDES. They were your average karate-kicking, moral-spouting group of spandex-wearers. But, according to Chris and his mates, there were all these hidden messages in the stories - instead of being some left-wing freedom-fighting force, KRATIDES actually promoted right-wing values. Or something. It was all a bit beyond me, to be honest, and, well, it all just seemed a bit silly. Lexi found it highly amusing though which can only be expected as this is Lexi we're talking about. One thing I learnt very quickly though was that comic books aren't comics. They're graphic novels. Chris was really quite vocal on that and Lexi pointed this out as well. You learn something new about your flat mates every day. This was something I didn't need to know though. So it turned out that Chis had started to see members of KRATIDES in the real world. He'd seen Sophy, the Wolflady, disposing of some unattended luggage in New Cross Station. He'd spotted The Flying Bludgeon tackling a mugger on Wandsworth Common. He'd even photographed Professor Davenport, the leader of KRATIDES, in Beckenham. If it wasn't for the photo, I'd have said it was all in his head but there he was - the blue-skinned Professor Davenport. Standing outside Greggs. And as if that wasn't bizarre enough, all these events had already happened in the comics. Graphic novels. Comic books. Whatever. Sherlock said that there were three possibilities - one was that KRATIDES actually existed. A possibility I actually think he was taking seriously though Lexi wasn't convinced. The second was that Chris was suffering from some kind of psychological delusions. The third possibility was that this was all being done for his benefit which is what Lexi was considering, thank God for her moments of sanity. But why? Chris was staring to lose it. He'd scared away most of his friends and family and, other than his two assistants, the only person he had left was someone who'd contacted him on his website - someone called Kemp. He didn't know what they looked like as their profile picture was just a smiley face. Kemp had been telling Chris to spread the word even more about the reality behind KRATIDES - that they existed and that they were real. Other than Sherlock and Lexi, this Kemp was the only person taking him seriously. Have to admit, I certainly wasn't. Encouraged by him, Chris had been spreading the word on Twitter, Facebook and Google+ as well as on his own website. And, obviously, he was having to deal with an increasing amount of ridicule. As the days passed we watched his hold on reality get weaker and weaker. Sherlock got me to do some research (which involved me going into a comic shop... oh, the things I saw... at least Lexi came with me, though I think she enjoyed it a little too much to be honest) and it turned out that, as expected, sales of KRATIDES had shot through the roof. Despite their mocking of Chris, people were rushing out to buy the comic so they could be there if and when the events came true. Sherlock contacted one of his friends who lived on the streets. She'd used to work in computers and through some technobabble tracing thing was able to locate the real Kemp - who, it turned out, worked for the publishers of KRATIDES. We would have had Lexi trace the real Kemp but Mycroft is banning all her hacking once again which she isn't pleased about. To be honest though I think he made the right choice. Anyway, the publishers of KRATIDES had been using Chris as a form of advertising. It would have been almost funny had it not been for the effect it had had on his mind. To make money, they'd risked sending this kid insane. They hadn't technically done anything illegal so there wasn't much we could do. So we looked at the most recent issue of KRATIDES and saw there was a storyline about Latimer, one of the superheroes, defeating two masked terrorists on Shaftesbury Avenue... Which is why Sherlock and I ended up, dressed as ninjas, fighting a comic book geek in Soho with Lexi filming us on the sidelines and laughing like she had gone insane. At the end of which, me and Sherlock ran off dragging Lexi with us and Chris pulled off his mask and told his audience exactly what Kemp and the publishers had done to him. Lexi wasn't happy about how little Sherlock would let her help at the end of the case. He still isn't letting her do anything to strenuous but I am happy to report that her injuries from our last case are healing nicely. Her ankle is healed and she is out of her cast and her ribs are almost completely healed, about another week or so and they'll be right as rain, and she has regained full range of motion in her shoulder. I've never known one girl to get hurt so often, but she wouldn't be Lexi if she didn't jump into danger to try and rescue someone, that someone generally being Sherlock or me. Lexi was rather happy that her scars from her surgeries didn't mess up her tattoos. She recently got another one. I went with her this time. The guys she has "ink" her is rather nice but I had a feeling there was some inside joke amongst them with the way he was eyeing me and she was furiously whispering to him. She got a large rose tattoo that goes from her hip and up her ribcage on her left side which I thought was a rather bad idea. I didn't stay to watch all of it get done as it got a bit awkward when she needed to take her shirt off. She showed it to Sherlock as soon as we got back to the flat and he just grinned at her. I have no idea how the girl does it, but I guess that is just her thing. Suffice to say, while she and Sherlock are arguing over how much he allows her to do, we are all safe and well at Baker Street.


	56. The Speckled Blonde

**A/N Look the second one. The last one is getting posted tomorrow as it is longer and then we have A Scandal in Belgravia starting on Tuesday. And now for a few messages to some people. **

**Matt: I totally and completely love you.**

**Owl: Don't blink, whatever you do.**

**Annie: Welcome aboard the S.S. Sherlexi. Apparently we have a ship and a canon now.**

**Thoroughly**** Misguided: C'est magnifique**

**XOXO Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson<strong>

**13 July**

**The Speckled ****Blonde**

Early thirties, dyed blonde hair, strange red speckles all over her body. The woman, Julia Stoner, had been found in her bed. There seemed to be no obvious cause of death which Lexi agreed upon. Her sister, Helen, said that Julia had been feeling a bit rundown for the last few weeks but had figured she was stressed because she was getting married soon. It was only after performing the autopsy, that Lexi discovered two tiny puncture marks in her right ankle and traces of an unidentified poison in her bloodstream. This is the moment where Lexi's previous profession as a pathologist comes in handy. The obvious answer was that Julia had been bitten by something, presumably some kind of snake. As I started to phone the local zoos to see if any had recently escaped, Sherlock and Lexi looked into Julia's family. She lived with her sister and their stepfather, Doctor Roylott. He was apparently a big name in cosmetics and had even guest starred on Connie Prince's show a few times. Both seemed genuinely devastated by Julia's death. We then met her fiancé, Percy Armitage. He was a strange bloke. Very beardy. Lexi made a lot of comments about it as you can probably guess. Anyway, Percy also, we discovered, kept snakes. None of the zoos were missing any reptiles so it appeared to be that one of Percy's had bitten Julia. He denied it, saying that Julia hated the snakes so wouldn't go near them. Lexi wasn't too fond of them either to be honest. The case went on for a few days but we didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Sherlock and Lexi were convinced that Julia had been murdered in some way. They didn't believe that a snake could get into someone's bedroom, kill them in their sleep and then leave without being spotted by anyone else. Percy had an alibi for the night Julia was killed and he kept his snakes at his own flat. It seemed obvious that he was involved but wherever we turned, we hit a brick wall. And to make matters worse, Helen was starting to complain that she too was feeling tired and run down. Was it just grief over her sister's death? Or was something else happening? Sherlock, then, had an idea. He decided to relive Julia's last night. He wanted to spend a night in her bedroom and he wanted me to join him. Yes. You can all stop sniggering. I was going to sleep on the floor. Sherlock refused to let Lexi stay the night with us in the room just in the off chance that something went wrong. Lexi wasn't happy about it, but she agreed in the end. I don't know how Sherlock finally managed to convince her, but one minute she was telling Sherlock off and stomped back to her room and slammed the door and then Sherlock went after her and talked with her in her room and when he came out she was suddenly not coming with us. I really don't want to know what went on in that room to convince her otherwise. Molly came by and kidnapped Lexi for a sleep over which I think was Sherlock's idea of keeping her busy. Anyway, Sherlock and I went into the bedroom and Sherlock started to relive Julia's last moments - with guidance from Helen. Julia had been out with some mates but hadn't got too drunk. She'd come home and had had a bath. Sherlock looked at the bottle of expensive-looking bubble bath by Julia's bed. The brand was Roylotts - developed by her stepfather's company. Sherlock asked Helen if she used the same brand. She said that it wasn't yet available in the shops. Their stepfather had given it to her sister to try and then, more recently, to her. We picked up Lexi from Molly's around eleven and told her about what we had learnt and then Sherlock and Lexi took the bottle to Bart's and analyzed the contents. It contained a slow-acting poison. Every time the girls had been using it, they'd been slowly killing themselves. Helen told us that her stepfather had promised it had already been tested. It was safe! Sherlock pointed out that this hadn't been an accident (he didn't exactly break this gently to Helen which earned him a smack on the back of his head from Lexi). Her stepfather had killed her sister in cold blood and was now doing the same to her. He'd put the puncture marks in Julia's ankle to deflect attention onto one of Percy's snakes. We rushed back to the house to confront the old man but it was too late - he was already dead. He'd hung himself from the kitchen light…fitting. He hadn't left a note so we don't know why he wanted to kill his step-daughters. Did he remind them of his late wife? Was it about money? Was he just mad? We, and more tragically Helen, will never know. As for what's happening in our life, Lexi is now fully healed and back in commission which she is quite happy about. Sherlock and Lexi have been bored with the lack of cases recently, but they've been doing a lot of experiments together or rushing off to do something around the city. They are still fighting every now and then, but it seems less intense than before. At least no one is at each other's throats anymore. Can't say why there has been a change between them, but I've heard Sherlock laughing more and he also has been smiling a lot. It's a bit unnerving but I'll take it while it lasts.


	57. The Aluminium Crutch

**Alright, just made it home so now I can post this. Yes, John is a lot smarter than I think they gave him credit for. did notice a lot of things and he certainly notices that something has changed between Sherlock and Lexi, He might not know for sure if they are dating or not given their comments on the subject before but he knows they are rather cosy with each other now. I think John is brilliant but he doesn't always know what to say or do in some situations. **

**I want to tell you to not be afraid for Scandal in Belgravia but their are some plot elements that need to happen. Don't worry, there is a happy ending but it might not seem like there can be one at some points. There is a method to my madness though and I point behind the angst we're about to get into. Slight spoiler but Moriarty did say that Lexi would wish she didn't have a heart once he was finished with her and well...Irene did owe him one. It's not going to be pretty but we see a new side of Lexi entirely and this is very important, especially what happens between our detectives, not just for this case but all the way up to things that happen in season three. **

**So an update, I have my neurology appointment on Thursday so I will hopefully know more about what is going on by this weekend. Bit tired, lack of sleep and all that so enjoy the chapter while I go and nap and I will see you all here tomorrow with the start of Scandal in Belgravia which is 13 chapters long. Might be posted late because I need to study for a test tomorrow. *frowns thoughtfully* I don't know yet, we'll have to see. - Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson<strong>

**The Aluminium Crutch**

**02 September**

This one you'll have read about in the papers. The murder of actor Matthew Michael live on stage. I wasn't actually there as I was on a date (went well, thanks for asking) but Sherlock and Lexi were and Sherlock left a number of messages on my voicemail, telling me what happened. A couple of people have asked me what he's really like so I've transcribed them. "John, I've just been to see Terror By Night with Lexi at some terrible little theatre on the Strand. The play itself was mediocre but there was a murder! Live on stage! We haven't got time to tell the police what happened so when you've finished having dinner or whatever it is you're doing with... Sarah? I need you to take this message to …. Don't worry, it's all quite simple. Detective Sidney Paget, played by the actor Matthew Michael, summoned the other characters to the drawing room so he could reveal whodunnit. As I'd worked out from Scene One, Lady Margaret Chaplette, had been killed by her son Albert, played by the actor William Howells. William, playing Albert, then had to, in a fit of rage, hit Sidney, played by Matthew, with his aluminium crutch. The aluminium crutch was meant to be made of rubber so that Matthew wouldn't be injured but during the interval, someone had replaced the rubber aluminium crutch with a real aluminium crutch. William playing Albert struck Matthew playing Sidney across the head with the real aluminium crutch and killed him. Now, the only person who could have replaced the rubber aluminium crutch with the real aluminium crutch was someone who'd had access to William's dressing room during the interval. William revealed who had been in there during the interval - the director Deborah Challis, Matthew Michael who played Detective Sidney Paget, Sarah Groenewegen who played Sissy Hastings, Jonathan Morris who played Cedric Hastings and Karen Baldwin who played the maid, Jade. As could be seen in his performance, William clearly liked a drink. At one point, during a tennis court scene that I actually thought would never end and had Lexi giggling incessantly to an irritating degree, he referred to Sarah instead of Sissy, the character she played and there were bruises on Matthew's arms where, as Sidney, he'd been struck by the character Albert Chaplette in earlier performances, but where the actor William had missed the padding stitched into the coat. I hope you're getting all this down? So the killer could have been Deborah Challis, the director or one of those four actors, five including William himself. It had to be someone who could smuggle a real crutch in and replace it without William noticing although, obviously, the bottle of gin he was knocking back would have helped. Deborah Challis, the director, was wearing tight jeans and a top that was far too pink and far too small so she wouldn't have been able to smuggle in anything larger than a peanut. Which would have been fine if she wanted to kill someone with a nut allergy but she didn't. After some gentle questioning from Lexi and me, she broke down and admitted that she was in love with William but that he wasn't interested. At last, an explanation for why the old drunk had been cast in the play! Sarah Groenwegen who played Sissy Hastings was clearly having an affair with William (in real life, I mean, not in the play) so had he broke things off with her? Was she pregnant and he didn't want to know? And if so, was she trying to get revenge by getting William arrested for the murder of Matthew? It seemed... improbable but not impossible. Jonathan who played Cedric admitted that he didn't like William and that they'd had a fight during the interval. It turned out that Jonathan was in love with Sarah (who played his sister Sissy) and he hadn't liked the way William treated her. But again, why go to the trouble of having him arrested? Why not just kill William himself? Karen who played the maid Jade admitted that she'd been having an affair with the victim Matthew who played the detective Sidney but there was no way she could have hidden a crutch in her maid's costume. So we had two suspects, Deborah the director and Karen who played Jade, who couldn't have smuggled the crutch in. Two suspects, Sarah who played Sissy and Jonathan who played Cedric, who could have smuggled the crutch in but who didn't appear to have a motive. And then William and Matthew themselves. If William had wanted to kill Matthew then there were easier ways to have gone about it. Which leaves the victim Matthew himself. As Sidney, Matthew wore a long overcoat (not dissimilar to mine) so he could have done it but there are easier ways of committing suicide - even if you do want to do so dramatically live on stage. The thing is aluminium is actually quite light. There's no guarantee that a strike from an aluminium crutch would actually kill someone. But think about it, John. The bruises on Matthew's arm. William's unprofessional behaviour, the drinking, the affairs. Matthew had already complained to Deborah, the director, about William, but, because she was in love with William, she hadn't done anything about it. And that was it. Matthew had decided to get William sacked himself. He'd gone into William's dressing room with the real aluminium crutch hidden under his overcoat. The drunk William, busy either fooling around with Sarah or fighting with Jonathan, wouldn't have noticed Matthew swapping the crutch. Matthew's plan was for William, as usual, to hit him with the crutch, not knowing that the rubber aluminium crutch was now a real aluminium crutch. He presumably hoped it would break his arm or cause enough damage that he could sue the theatre or Deborah and ensure that William was sacked. But William, perhaps because of the fight with Jonathan, was even more drunk than usual and swung the crutch too high, striking Matthew across the head and accidentally killing him. So, just to make sure you've got it: The murder victim Sidney Paget (who played the detective Matthew Michael) was also the killer as he himself swapped the fake murder weapon, the rubber aluminium crutch, for the real murder weapon, a real aluminium crutch, in an attempt to get William Howells (who played the killer Albert Chaplette) fired. The plan itself backfired and he caused his own death." After this very long message from Sherlock I received a short one from Lexi simply telling me that she and Sherlock had solved a murder at the play they had gone to see and as always Sherlock was highly insensitive when speaking with those who knew the victim. It appears that even a date, if that is what you can even call it, for Sherlock and Lexi involves murder and mayhem. Yes, you've heard me right, a date. I know, I was surprised too. Sherlock called his taking Lexi out to see the play a date and she didn't correct him. I'm not sure if they are actually dating or if Sherlock just doesn't really understand what a date actually is and Lexi is being nice to not embarrass him. If they are dating, it's about time. I think everyone has been waiting for them to just get one with it already. She's good for him honestly. I've never seen another person manage to silence Sherlock with just one look besides Lexi. Mrs. Hudson is thrilled as she is adamant that they are dating. Honestly, I can't tell for sure and I live with the both of them. All I know is that they spend a lot of time together, but they sort of always have. But anyway, there you go. There is your proof that Sherlock and I are not together. Never mind all the times I've tried to tell you that I'm not gay. Maybe now you'll finally believe me even though I do believe I've said something every time I've gone on a date with a woman. Since my last posting Sherlock's had is birthday. He's now thirty-three. Lexi made a big deal out of it and baked him a cake. She even made him put on a party hat. She got a picture of it too but I think he found it and deleted it. Sherlock pouted and acted like a child as always, but I think he was secretly pleased. Life at Baker Street has been quieter recently which is a God send and I attribute it to whatever is going on between Sherlock and Lexi. They might not think I notice but I do actually see when they sneak out of each other's rooms like teenagers who are afraid to get caught by their parents. I know that sounds worse than it is. I'm sure they haven't done…that, at least I'm pretty sure. Sherlock said that he was married to his work and Lexi is the same way. If they are dating than good on them and if not they better realize how much of idiots they are being and just get on with it.


	58. Net Detectives

**Hello sweeties! I'm posting this at one in the morning when I can't sleep so you'll get it early despite my need to study. **

**A Scandal in Belgravia begins. I am so excited for this case. I actually love this because I wrote this three months ago now and not only do I get to read back through what I wrote but I think of things to add to it that I didn't think of at the time. I've actually thought of a few good things to add to this case so kudos to moi. Wish me luck, I have a test today in my online Meteorology test. I love how all the other students and I are acting like experts now. See, education people, it's important. I feel like I should tell you to stay in school and not do drugs so yeah, I'll do that. Don't do it people! Just say no to drugs and all that. That line still cracks me up. You know, I actually read my own chapters and I still laugh at all my own lines I wrote for Lexi because I forget half of them. **

**So some notes of SiB before we being:**

**1. The case is 13 chapters long, the longest case so far. **

**1.5 That includes two original chapters where we meet Lexi's father and an original bit at the end in which I introduce the character of Joanna finally. I'm so excited to get to have you guys read about her. I think you are going to like her. Her series starts after SiB too called A Different Sort of Goldfish. Mycroft/OC story. She was an unexpected character that was never meant to be in the series bit I just started writing her cos she popped into my head and I love her as much as Lexi if not more. As much as I love Sherlock I have a secret crush on Mycroft Holmes. Shush. Don't tell anyone. **

**2. Feels...all the feels**

**3. Irene might actually be more vindictive than in the episode. How many of you can figure out why that is? **

**4. Lexi plays a huge role with Sherlock more than Irene. I.e. Irene doesn't mean the same to him as she did in the episode.**

**5. Did I mention the feels?**

**6. We do have a happy ending and Irene is vindicated and their is reconciliation between her and Lexi in a way. **

**7. How many of you can notice the things that Lexi does in this case that will play a part in what might happen during Reichenbach?**

**I might do some things that surprise you during this case and during the next few. As much as I kept try to the original cases I did also take some author liberties. Now 10 points to Slytherin (my Hogwarts house so deal with it. Slytherin pride!) if you can finish this line, "Fizz! Buzz! Oh what the Hell..."**

**Xoxo Melody **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty Six- Net Detectives<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The weeks after our encounter with Moriarty passed quickly and with that passing time Sherlock and I became thick as thieves. We were rarely away from each other for longer than a few minutes and we didn't leave the flat without each other even if the other didn't need to go out as well. It was hard to be out of each other's sight for more than a few minutes as the anxiety over Moriarty's still possible return in our lives loomed over our heads. We had told Lestrade about Moriarty, leaving out the parts about how he wanted me to join him or had sponsored not one but two serial killers to get our attention. Somehow that seemed like things that the police would be better off not knowing. Attracting the attention of a psychopath was never good news. Moriarty's words about how he was going to burn us weighed heavily upon my mind as did his comment about how I would wish I didn't have a heart once he was done with me. I knew Moriarty was dangerous and he never made false promises. I had chosen to forget about him because he was the one person that terrified me the most. I used to think that person was my father but I at least knew what to expect with him. Moriarty on the other hand was a psychopath. One minute he could seem calm and the next he could fly into a rage. He was unpredictable and that was what made him so dangerous. While I was in the hospital after our encounter with the consulting criminal at the pool, John and Sherlock never left my side. Well, they did only once when Mycroft came to visit me. We had a large row over the fact that he had used Sherlock and me to find the Bruce-Parting plans for him when he or his own men could have found it themselves. I also went off on him about how that case was connected to Moriarty and if he was so damn worried about us then he should have seen someone like Moriarty coming. I had called him later and apologized to him. It wasn't his fault about Moriarty, but it was his fault for thinking he could control us and bully us into doing what he wanted us to. I was bullied by enough people who thought they had power over me and I certainly was not going to be bullied by Mycroft of all people.

I knew that Moriarty would be back at some point, I just didn't know when. Next time…next time we wouldn't get out of it so easily. Next time we would be faced with a final decision to make and it would be him or us. It was why the boys never left my side in the hospital. We didn't know if or when Moriarty was going to return. I had a hunch that we wouldn't see him for a while though. Someone had made him a better offer. Besides, Moriarty prided himself in playing games with us. He needed to plan a new game before he started playing a game again. I would have been naive and very stupid to have even believed that he would leave us alone. No, he thought we were him. His obsession with us ran deep. His eyes…they haunted me the most. Sherlock stayed close to me for that reason as well. After the time I fell asleep I thought of those eyes as he towered over me and kicked me repeatedly. I let myself be powerless to him once, next time he would not have that pleasure. He might have beaten me this time but he could never break me. I was stronger than that.

A lot changed within the first week of me being home from the hospital, especially between Sherlock and me. I had unofficially sort of moved into his room for one thing. After our encounter with Moriarty we both started having nightmares about losing each other or John at the pool. We discovered after I fell asleep on Sherlock one night while he was reading to me in his bed during that first week of my recovery that sleeping next to each other kept the nightmares at bay. It was sort of nice to wake up in the warmth and comfort of Sherlock's arms. I did wake up in his arms every morning. Before I noticed that he would leave before I would wake up as if he was unsure about how to act around me in that situation but now he would stay with me until I woke up. He didn't always sleep but he always laid with me and sometimes he did sleep and actually slept later than I did and sometimes I didn't sleep at all but he did. I loved the moments that I got to watch him sleep. He looked so peaceful when he let his face relax and he let his body rest. He pushed himself to the breaking point until he collapsed but I had found a way of getting him to come to bed and fall asleep. He would claim he wasn't tired or didn't want to sleep but I could always convince him to come to bed for me even if he said he would just lay down. A few minutes of me carding my fingers through his hair and he would relax and fall right to sleep. His scalp was very sensitive and most times he didn't let anyone near his hair but he told me, though not directly, that he quite liked when I ran my fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp.

I discovered that Sherlock was a bit of a cuddlier and I was right in thinking that he denied himself affection. Mycroft had instilled upon him that caring was not an advantage, something I scolded Mycroft for harshly. He had tried to teach me the same thing and some days I wanted to believe him but this was why I couldn't. Caring was what made us human. And sometimes what kills you makes you feel so alive inside. Caring did get you hurt sometimes but hurt made us human too. If we couldn't feel…we'd just be machines and that was no life at all. I showed Sherlock that it was alright to want human contact and I let him do what he needed to. Sometimes he just needed a reassuring hug or he would kiss my forehead. He played with my hair or held my hand, playing with my fingers as we sat on the couch together watching crap telly. He reassured himself that I was still there and I promised him that I would always be there so long as he needed me. I finally managed to get Sherlock to watch Doctor Who, which while he complained a lot about it, I could tell he secretly enjoyed it.

In terms of our relationship it had progressed slightly. When John was out of the flat on dates or meeting with old buddies we would get take out and spend the night in together. Those were my favourite moments and if I could take snapshots of them to keep forever I would. When I could finally stand for longer than a few minutes I would make us dinner having called Mummy Holmes for some of Sherlock's favourite recipes. When I was off my morphine we added wine to our little date nights. We would have a picnic on the floor and watch movies together, listen to radio programmes, or just sit and talk. I learned a lot about Sherlock like the fact that he wanted to be a pirate when he was a little boy. Sometimes Sherlock would read aloud to me until I nodded off, lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of his voice. For once, I was happier than I could ever dream to be and I was happy because I didn't have to hide it anymore. I could kiss Sherlock just because I wanted to. Our kisses had all been rather chaste since our first snog in my office, but I was alright with that. I could see that Sherlock was trying but this was as new for him as it was for me so I was alright, more than alright with taking things slowly. Some people thought you had to be snogging all them time to show you were in love, but Sherlock and I weren't like normal people. A simple hug or a brush of the fingertips could mean so much more than anyone would ever understand. It was all Sherlock and it was all new and it was completely and utterly perfect. I was still nervous and tentative myself as this was all new to me too.

Towards week four of my recovery I was finally out of my bloody cast and while my ribs were still taped up, I had regained full usage of my shoulder. It still hurt but that was to be expected. John would go through some therapy movements with me in the mornings and at night that he had done after his surgery when he got shot and they did help. I finally managed to convince Sherlock to start taking clients again as he had been turning them away since we got back from the hospital, claiming that he was going to wait the full six weeks until I was better before we took clients again. I was getting bored with just sitting on the couch and reading quietly and I knew that he was too even if he acted like he wasn't. I hadn't left the flat much in the last four weeks and neither had Sherlock. He still insisted on carrying me up and down the stairs as he didn't want me to pull my stitches in my side. He was so brilliant at taking care of me and despite the fact that I could take care of myself I let him take baby me. I could tell that he really wanted to and when I asked him why he wanted to he told me it was because I had taken care of him so many times already and it was his turn now.

The wall surprisingly didn't take a beating again in our boredom even if Sherlock refused to go far without me but we did conduct several experiments that drove John crazy. I used my relationship with Sherlock to get a little leeway if course. He helped me up to the roof once my ankle healed so I could check on my bees and I discovered a new species of bee which had made its way into my hive. Sherlock and I discovered that it was a product of an Osmia avosetta mating with another bee, which should have been impossible as Osmia avosetta was its own species. The privilege of naming the new species of bee fell to us and we named it Euglassia Watsonia in honour of John who had risked his life to try and save ours when we faced Moriarty. April quickly turned to May and as it did I wondered just how long the calm that had settled over Baker Street would last and just how long things between Sherlock and I could stay perfect.

**John's POV**

**May 30****th**

John was sitting at the table in the living room updating his blog on his laptop which had recently taken off a great deal. There were more comments on the blog now asking about what Sherlock was like at home and questions asking more about Lexi. The Irish detective was getting a lot of recognition recently, especially after his last blog post about how she had gotten hurt on their last case. Well-wishers sent in their comments and asked about how she was doing. It was nice to know that people were really starting to care about the three of them. Of course there were the sceptics and then the arseholes who just left nasty comments which John deleted immediately but there were also a few creepy people who wanted to know things about Sherlock and Lexi in a stalkerish sort of way. John looked up at Sherlock who was currently wearing a red dressing gown over his shirt and trousers and who was standing at the other side of the table drinking from a mug while leafing through a newspaper. Lexi was quietly sitting in Sherlock's chair reading with a mug of tea and John was grateful that she wasn't trying to make a great escape again. She had tried once the day before to make it out of the flat on her own but she had gotten tired halfway down the stairs and Sherlock had to go and retrieve her and bring her back. Her recovery was going well and she had at least two more weeks left before she was completely fine which John was glad about because she and Sherlock were both starting to tear their hair out due to boredom and the last time they were bored they shot the wall. Despite the fact that she was almost completely recovered, John noticed that she still tired easily, either from lack of sleep at night or because the healing processes was talking a lot out of her.

Seeing Lexi in the hospital after what Moriarty had done to her was… well it made both him and Sherlock sick. Sherlock had actually been murderous and it had taken him and Lestrade and even Mycroft to calm him down during Lexi's surgery. John had never seen that look in Sherlock's eyes before and he never wanted to again. When they had finally been let into Lexi's private room, curtesy of Mycroft, John had gasped at the sight of Lexi. She looked so fragile and pale in the hospital bed. Her crimson hair was laid out against the pillow and slightly tangled and it made her skin look even paler. One thing that both John and Sherlock both neglected to tell Lexi is that she had actually broken one of her bottom ribs and during one of the last moments at the pool, probably when she had stumbled away from Moriarty, had lacerated her liver. She had some amount of internal bleeding and had passed out in the ambulance due to this. As soon as they had arrived at the hospital she had been wheeled into emergency surgery. She had also fractured her Proximal Humerus and therefore they had to also do surgery on her shoulder to remove the bone fragments and set her shoulder properly. John knew that that had been cause by the men that had kidnapped him. She would have been barely able to move that arm but she had still tried to attack Moriarty. On top of having two surgeries she also had to have her ankle set and casted which she was thankfully asleep for. Most of her body was covered in bruises from either her fall or being beaten by Moriarty. Her jawbone was bruised as well. Despite this fact, when John had woken up to find Lexi awake and talking to Sherlock, she was smiling and talking animatedly to him as if nothing had happened to her and they hadn't just been kidnapped and almost killed by a psychopath who was there number one "fan" Lexi explained to the army doctor how she knew Moriarty after he was half expecting her to come out and say that he was somehow her father.

The fact that Lexi had still managed to sass the psychopathic Irish man had suddenly hit him. Only she would do that. She started cracking jokes about the chlorine getting to his head or if she had use of her arm she would have taken off her shoes to throw at him. John noticed after what happened at the pool that the detectives never left each other for longer than a few minutes. Sherlock also surprised him by catering to Lexi's every whim. He made her tea, even when she didn't ask for it and he entertained her as well as himself. John escaped and left them to their own devices a fair few times to go out with old buddies of his and every time he returned to the flat he noticed that there were bottles of wine in the trash along with takeaway containers or leftovers in the fridge. Once or twice he found a quilt out on the floor still and the light was on under Sherlock's door and both detectives were missing from the rest of the flat and John started putting two and two together. He wasn't stupid. They could sneak around and think that hr didn't noticed that they were dating if they wanted to. Did he go out a little more often or make plans with Stamford or just go to the pub by himself a little more, maybe, but they didn't need to know that. They could think whatever they liked and have their "secret" dates. As long as they were happy and John had to admit, they both seemed really happy lately. Sherlock was actually less of an insufferable git lately.

"What are you typing?" Sherlock asked John suddenly as he looked over at him and Lexi looked up from her book, flicking her gaze over to the both of them as the army doctor was jolted back into reality. It was a good thing that he was keeping a few things out of the blog about their personal lives. There were boundaries after all. He dropped hints now and then about how he thought that Sherlock and Lexi were in a relationship, but he never outwardly put that he knew for certain.

"Blog," John answered him shortly as Lexi stood up from her chair and stretched slightly, rubbing her shoulder a bit after lowering her arms and frowning which John noticed. Her shoulder still pained her on occasion but she would never let on to Sherlock that it did. She walked over to the consulting detective and leaned over his shoulder, her hands on his back, as she read the newspaper over his shoulder.

"About?" Sherlock prompted and John paused in his typing again to look up at the two detectives.

"Us," John told Sherlock and Lexi looked up at him and met his eyes for a second, grinning. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes as if she was planning something devious, but then again, that was normally how she looked.

"You mean Lexi and me," Sherlock corrected John and John watched Lexi raise her eyebrow slightly at that. Well at least she questioned that too.

"Why?" John asked Sherlock calmly. He had more than gotten used to the way Sherlock acted over the last few weeks so his comment hadn't surprised him. They had been living together for over three months now so he was actually used to the both of them by now.

"Well, you're typing a lot," Sherlock told John and Lexi moved slightly so she was leaning where Sherlock could see her face.

"Lock," She chastised him, giving him a pointed look and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to her, their faces close together. Sherlock sighed and they looked at each other for a long moment obviously having one of their silent conversations before the doorbell rang and Lexi broke eye contact with the consulting detective and took a step back from him and retreated back to his chair.

"Right then," Sherlock told them as he walked towards the door after setting his mug down on the dining table. "So, what have we got?" Sherlock asked as Lexi smiled from her chair and took a sip of her tea, raising her mug in a salute at the retreating back of the detective.

Over a period of many weeks, people came and went at 221B to consult with Sherlock and Lexi, each presenting very different types of cases. Each of them sat on a dining chair facing the fireplace as he or she spoke and told the consulting detectives of their woes. It was the way Lexi had first set up the "client" chair as they were calling it now when they had taken their first client together and it seemed to now be the norm.

"My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office," A man told Lexi and Sherlock as John sat down at the dining table and Lexi took up residence in the army doctor's normal chair which Sherlock was standing behind.

"Boring," Sherlock told the man as he walked around Lexi in the chair, her hand shooting out and slapping him rather roughly in the arm which left the consulting detective rubbing it to ease the pain.

"Lock!" Lexi scolded him, giving him a pointed look as she stared him down with one eyebrow raised.

"Woman," He responded as he glared back at Lexi before softening under her firm gaze and nodding slightly. That was the first time John got to see Lexi use her method to control Sherlock and it wasn't going to be the last time either. She did the same thing during their next client meeting.

"I think my husband might be having an affair," A woman told the consulting detectives, John and Sherlock sitting in their respective chairs and Lexi perched on the arm of Sherlock's chair. The consulting detective had one hand on the small of her back and he was playing with the ends of her hair something that John had come to realize was one of his new habits.

"Yes," Sherlock told her bluntly and John only heard the resounding smack before Sherlock was rubbing the back of his head, glaring at Lexi who had a slight smirk on her face and a who was looking very proud of herself indeed.

"Sher," Lexi said in a tone that John had come to realize was a warning tone as she turned and looked at Sherlock, raising one eyebrow on a very menacing way.

"Woman," Sherlock told her before she shrugged and looked back at their client, ignoring Sherlock completely. The warning she gave him when he started to get rude was just one of the new things John had noticed between the two consulting detectives. They took in more clients as Sherlock and Lexi didn't find a case that interested them.

"She's not my real aunt. She's been replaced – I know she has. I know human ash," A creepy guy said as he held a funeral urn. Sherlock paced behind him as John sat in his chair, Lexi sitting as far away from him on the couch as possible, he legs tucked underneath her. She had taken one look at their client and had retreated to the couch, seemingly unnerved by him. John assumed that Sherlock was pacing behind him as a way to keep Lexi calm as he was between her and their client. It was sort of nice to see how much Sherlock had been caring for her in the last few weeks.

"Leave," Sherlock told their client, pointing to the door and John waited for Lexi to get up and smack Sherlock again but she nodded in agreement with the consulting detective.

"Actually, I agree with him this time, leave," Lexi told their client and he got up and left them as Sherlock stayed between him and Lexi until he left the flat. After that Sherlock made Lexi some tea and they sat on the couch watching telly together, Lexi cuddled up next to the consulting detective who had a slightly smug smile on his face. John wasn't an idiot, he had eyes and the way they were acting they might as well just come out and publicly announce that they were dating.

Their next client was a business man that was joined by his two bodyguards. Lexi eyed his bodyguards up and down and looked at the business man completely unimpressed so it seemed. John already knew what her view was of executives. She sat in Sherlock's chair, John sitting in his own as Sherlock stood next to Lexi, his hand on her shoulder.

"We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention for the recovery of these files," The business man told them and Lexi raised one of her eyebrows at him which John knew wasn't a good sign.

"Boring," Sherlock told them before Lexi looked up at him. Sherlock looked down at her and raised an eyebrow at her before she shrugged and John sighed in exasperation as they had their silent conversation. The business man and his aids looked at the two detectives in confusion before Lexi turned back to them.

"I'll look into the matter, but I make no promises," Lexi told the business man who nodded at her before he left. Lexi did end up looking into his case on her own and she solved it within a matter of a few hours. She gave the business man his files back within two days and received a hefty sum for her three hours of work that she had done while cooking and watching telly. She complained that the case wasn't even worth her time as it was too easy to hack and track to find the missing files as the idiot who had stolen them hadn't even covered his tracks. The money was nice though and she had gotten quite a bit out of him, happy to make his pockets lighter.

There next client actually turned out to be the one that Sherlock and Lexi were interested in. Out of all of their clients one geeky young man had the case that they finally decided to take. John stayed in his chair and Lexi was sitting in Sherlock's chair again, the consulting detective standing beside her, playing with her hair.

"We have this website. It explains the true meaning of comic books, 'cause people miss a lot of the themes," The geeky boy told them, two of his friends standing behind him. Sherlock started walking away, dropping Lexi's hair already disinterested. "But then all the comic books started coming true," The boy continued and Sherlock came back to listen to them.

"Oh. Interesting," Sherlock said as Lexi stood up and stood next to Sherlock, her hands folded so that her index fingers rested over her mouth in her thinking pose. She looked at Sherlock and raised her eyebrow slightly as she grinned at him. John had realized that each eyebrow raise had its own meaning. He was now calling it her eyebrow of doom as she mostly only raised her eyebrow when something was about to go down.

"Very interesting," Lexi told Sherlock as the two detectives met each other's gaze. "Continue," Lexi told the boy as she turned back to him and he looked almost faint over the fact that Lexi was talking to him for the first time and he stumbled over his words during the rest of his explanation.

Later when they had gotten back to the flat after finishing the case, John was sitting in his chair and updating his blog again. Lexi had been happy to be let out of the flat for the first time in four weeks and had even listened to Sherlock when he made her take it easy. She had a video of them on her phone though that John was pretty sure Sherlock would be erasing as soon as she went to bed. John had entitled the entry on his blog "The Geek Interpreter." Sherlock leaned over his shoulder looking at the screen.

"'Geek Interpreter.' What's that?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked up from where she was typing quickly on her laptop over on the couch. She had been writing up their cases recently as well and posting them to her blog, The Art of Crime, but unlike John who wrote up what happened on the case, Lexi shared her and Sherlock's deductions and how they had made them. She constantly referenced John and Sherlock as her Baker Street Boys and she called the three of them the Baker Street Irregulars often.

**Lexi's Log #3**

**I think you are all wondering what I think of us, my views on the subject of who we are. Who are we? It's a large question and many people don't know the answer to it when asked themselves. Who are we? We're sort of the Baker Street Irregulars, John, Sherlock, and I. We've all got something that makes us a little different than everyone else. But different is okay because everyone needs something that makes them unique, that sets them apart from others. Without that, there wouldn't be people who do the impossible or improbable. We'd all be cut from the same mould, all of us going through life completely the same. So yes, you might think Sherlock and I are freaks because we see things that you don't but if you look it at from our angle, you are all the freaks for not being able to see what we do. **

"It's the title," John told Sherlock, being drawn back to the present by his flat mate.

"What does it need a title for?" Sherlock asked him and John smiled tightly as Sherlock straightened up and walked away, going to join Lexi on the couch, just sitting with her as she typed before she closed down her laptop and smiled at him as she cuddled against his side.

Shortly thereafter they got their next case, this time from Lestrade. Lexi was completely healed now and ready to get back into the work again now that Sherlock wasn't putting any restrictions on what she did. The trio stood around a body at the morgue at St Bartholomew's Hospital. Sherlock was using his magnifier to look at a woman's body lying on the table. John was standing at the other side of the table with Lexi as Detective Inspector Lestrade stood nearby.

"Do people actually read your blog?" Sherlock asked John out of the blue.

"I do," Lexi remarked as she and Sherlock looked up at each other from across the dead woman's body.

"Of course you do. Most of his posts are about you," Sherlock remarked and Lexi shrugged as the D.I. and John watched the two of the, both noticing the looks they were sending each other.

"Which is why I like it. I think it's nice for people to read about how we actually are rather than everything they think based off assumptions," Lexi told Sherlock who tilted his head slightly to the side before making a humming noise and looking back down at the body.

"Where d'you think our clients come from?" John asked Sherlock, acting like Lexi and Sherlock's conversation never happened.

"I have a website, so does Lexi," Sherlock told John as Lexi took Sherlock's magnifying glass from him and leaned in closely to examine the woman's body.

"In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody's reading your website. Lexi's maybe, at least she posts interesting things," John said and Sherlock straightened up and glared at him, before pouting momentarily.

"Two hundred and forty-three," Lexi corrected John absentmindedly and Sherlock threw her an appreciative look as John continued to look at the body.

"Right then, dyed blonde hair; no obvious cause of death except for these speckles, whatever they are," John said as he pointed at the tiny red marks on the woman's body.

"The spots are caused by some type of toxin in her system. I'm not sure what yet though. I'll get back to you on that," Lexi told John before she and Sherlock turned and flounced out of the room, joining hands as they walked out of the door. John threw a look at Lestrade who was watching them leave with a raised eyebrow.

"So the two of them?" Lestrade asked John and the army doctor shook his head.

"I have no idea," John told the D.I. honestly before they both turned and followed after Sherlock and Lexi as John sighed in exasperation.

Later, back at the flat after they had solved the case John was updating his blog again as Lexi danced around in the kitchen cooking something that smelled delicious. Sherlock walked past John eating a piece of toast which Lexi had handed off to him as she got the rest of their dinner of breakfast food ready. He stopped and looked at the title for this entry.

"Oh, for God's sakes!" Sherlock said with his mouth full of toast.

"What?" John asked him in exasperation.

""The Speckled Blonde"?!" Sherlock scoffed and John pursed his lips as Sherlock walked away again.

"I like it John," Lexi told the army doctor as she walked into the living room with two plates of food. "Dinner," She told the boys and John quickly put his laptop on the floor and accepted his plate from her as she went to sit on the couch with Sherlock, sharing her food with him which was also a new development between the two of them. She convinced him to eat more often if she shared with him.

"Ta," John thanked Lexi and she grinned over at him before laughing as Sherlock got butter on his nose from the toast. She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose before shaking her head and biting into her own piece of toast, leaving John absolutely flabbergasted as Sherlock made no remark at all and had the ghost of a smile on his face. Of course John had no clue that the only reason they were freer with what they did around him was because they trusted him more than anyone else in their lives. They were comfortable around him and thus, comfortable in their relationship around him.

Their next clients were two little girls who were sitting together on one of the dining chairs while Sherlock paced in front of the fireplace. Lexi had given the girls cookies and milk, the cookies come from the day Sherlock and Lexi decided to experiment in baking and made over twelve batches of various kinds of cookies which she had mostly sold in a bake sell, when they had first gotten to the flat. She sat close to them in one of the dining chairs as John sat in his own chair, Sherlock pacing in front of the fireplace. Now they had children coming to them with cases.

"They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead. Is that 'cos he'd gone to heaven?" One of the little girls asked them and Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly as her brows furrowed.

"People don't really go to heaven when they die. They're taken to a special room and burned," Sherlock said and the two girls look at each other in distress as Lexi's head snapped around to him as she glared at the consulting detective.

"Sherlock ...," John said reprovingly before Lexi got up from her chair and crossed over to Sherlock as she started rapidly speaking in French. John couldn't understand a world she was saying but when she started smacking Sherlock as she said each word, John got the gist that she was cursing him out in French. Sherlock winced as she smacked him before he grabbed both of her hands and held her wrists in his hands as he looked down at her with a glare.

"Woman will you stop that?" Sherlock asked her angrily and Lexi glared up at him as Sherlock let go of her wrists and she dropped her hands to her sides.

"No!" Lexi shouted back at him before she turned around and tried to talk to the girls, showing them out of the flat as she threw Sherlock another glare. The two detectives spent the next day hardly talking to one another before having a shouting match in what sounded like Russian before Lexi had walked over to Sherlock and given him a hug and everything went back to normal between them. John was now one hundred percent sure that Sherlock and Lexi were dating or at least together to some extent. Mrs. Hudson was thrilled of course and John was just happy that it seemed liked Sherlock was listening to Lexi more now.

They got their next case in from Lestrade within a few more days. The D.I. lead Sherlock, Lexi and John down a gravel path near the airport that lead to an abandoned car they had gotten a call about. Lexi was wearing a blue tank top today with a pair of black skinny jeans as it was slightly warm out. The days had been heating up as they started to get more into summer.

"There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead," Lestrade told them as they walked, Lexi next to Sherlock and holding one of his hands which seemed to be their new normal.

"Suspected terrorist bomb. We do watch the news," Sherlock told Lestrade and Lexi looked over at the D.I. from Sherlock's other side.

"When Doctor Who isn't on," Lexi remarked with a little grin and John rolled his eyes in exasperation. All Lexi ever did was go on about Doctor Who. Sure he liked the show as much as the next person but at least he wasn't obsessed with it. John still had nightmares about Lexi's friend Liz who he had only see one other time now and she was just as crazy as before just now she was wearing a bow tie and suspenders.

"You said, "Boring," and turned over," John reminded Sherlock, glossing over Lexi's obsession with the science fiction show so as to save Lestrade from that explanation. **(A/N When he says turned over it means he switched the channel not turned over on the couch)**

"To turn on Doctor Who for me," Lexi told John and the army doctor and the D.I. gave her an exasperated look as they walked. "Hey, I've finally gotten him to watch it. Don't burst my bubble Watson," Lexi warned the army doctor who cringed at her use of his last name as Lestrade shook his head at her before he led them to a car which had its boot opened. There was a body inside the boot of the car which Lexi wrinkled her nose at as she and Sherlock let go of each other's hands and got to work. Lexi grabbed her glasses out over her coat and slipped them on over the bridge of her nose before she pulled up her hair into a messy bun. While Lestrade continued to speak, Sherlock and Lexi looked all around the rear of the car.

Lestrade looked down at his bag of evidence and continued explaining what he knew to them. "Well, according to the flight details, this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits. Here's his passport stamped in Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday but instead he's in a car boot in Southwark," Lestrade told them and Lexi stood up and frowned as Sherlock reached in his pocket and pulled out his case kit to get his magnifier.

"Lucky escape!" John remarked and Lexi's frown deepened.

"Just a bit," Lexi remarked as she raised her eyebrow slightly. It was a thoughtful eyebrow raise.

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked the consulting detectives as Sherlock examined the man's hand with his magnifier.

"Eight, so far," Sherlock told him as Lexi pulled out her own magnifier from her case bag and inspected the body.

"Seven, possibly," Lexi remarked as Sherlock and her straightened up and looked at the body again, before they both frowned momentarily.

"Okay, four ideas," Sherlock told Lestrade as Lexi nodded.

"Um, three, maybe," Lexi said as Sherlock turned to Lestrade and looked down at the passport and the ticket stub of the passenger, John Coniston, who was meant to be travelling on Flyaway Airways. Sherlock showed them to Lexi whose frown deepened. She and Sherlock straightened up again and Sherlock gazed up into the sky.

"Maybe two ideas," Sherlock said as the shadow of a passenger jet passed overhead.

"One and a half. Still don't know where the mime comes in. Get back to me later" Lexi told them as she pulled out her phone and started rapidly texting as she turned and walked away, Sherlock throwing one look at John and Lestrade before he followed off after her.

Back at the flat, Sherlock was wearing heavy protective gloves and safety glasses and was carrying a blowtorch in one hand and a glass container of green liquid in the other. He had come to the living room table to look at John's latest blog entry which was entitled "Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna baffled." Lexi was in the kitchen wearing similar protective gear as she waited for Sherlock to come back to finish their experiment. She took off her gloves and picked up her phone, responding to a text she had just received quickly. Apparently she had contacted one of her friends, a Joanie, about their case to get her opinion and she hadn't had any luck in finding anything else out.

"No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones," Sherlock told John indignantly as Lexi set her phone down and looked over at them sighing. She moved her safety goggles to the top of her head as she took her gloves off and set them down by her phone.

"People want to know you two are human," John said as Lexi moved out of the kitchen to join them as she took down her hair and then tied it back up so that it looked a little neater.

"Why?" Sherlock asked John and Lexi shrugged.

"They wonder if we do have times when we can't solve a case. Not everyone is perfect. They just want to see that even we aren't full proof," Lexi remarked and John nodded in agreement with her.

"'Cause they're interested," John added and Sherlock frowned at John.

"No they're not. Why are they?" Sherlock asked him quickly and Lexi giggled.

"'Cos it's you Lock. You interest everyone, especially me," Lexi told Sherlock with a grin before she stood on her toes and kissed Sherlock's cheek before she returned to the kitchen. John smiled at his laptop as the page refreshed.

"Look at that," John told Sherlock as he looked at the hit counter on the front page of his blog. "One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five," John told him proudly.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi let out a delighted crow from the kitchen, knowing what John was talking about.

"I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash," John told Sherlock with a smug smile.

"Two hundred and forty-three," Sherlock and Lexi said in unison. Sherlock said it sulkily but Lexi sounded indignant. Sherlock fired up the blowtorch and put his safety glasses back on and headed back towards the kitchen to join Lexi.

Their next case brought them to a theatre and Sherlock, Lexi, and John walked across the stage of the theatre while police officers milled around nearby. Lexi was wearing a black and white striped tank top with an olive green vest over it along with white skinny jeans and her signature coat and green plaid scarf. She had been changing styles recently and wearing shorter sleeved outfits than her thick jumpers. She also wore a necklace now that John was sure that Sherlock had gotten her. It was a silver locket that she wore to replace the gold one that John had found out that Alistair had gotten her for her birthday when she was twenty. Lexi ended up explaining a lot to him and Sherlock after Moriarty.

As it turned out, Lexi had arrested Moriarty back in Dublin on several charges of theft. It had been one of her first cases and she finally caught the thief that had been causing trouble around Dublin. Lexi recalled that he had been twenty-three at the time and just looking to cause trouble. She had a bad feeling that he was not going to stop at thievery and would one day go on to bigger crimes and she was right. Alistair had come down to congratulate her which is when he gave her the locket. Moriarty had overheard them talking as he called Lexi his Beautiful Bird. Lexi explained that Alistair was originally from England like her mother. Lord Alistair of Bentley had moved into the estate next to the one Lexi was raised in and was good friends with her mother. He was slightly older than her father and after her mother died, he promised to look out for Lexi as her mother had suspicions about how her father would treat her. Alistair became her father like figure and he and her granddad took care of her. When her granddad died, Alistair took over care of her alone and he even gave her the startup money for her consulting business because her father refused to. In her eyes Alistair was her father. He never married, never had children of his own, but adopted a son when Lexi was twenty-three who was slightly younger than her. They were close and John realized that some of her money the last four years came from Alistair.

"So, what's this one? "Belly Button Murders"?" Sherlock scoffed, drawing John back to the present and away from all of his thoughts about Lexi who was currently grinning next to Sherlock, one hand in his.

""The Navel Treatment"?" John suggested and Lexi laughed.

"Eurgh!" Sherlock said but Lexi hit his arm slightly and shook her head at him.

"I like it John," Lexi told the army doctor as they walked backstage and met up with Lestrade as they headed for the exit.

"There's a lot of press outside, guys," Lestrade told them as they hurried to the exit.

"Well, they won't be interested in us," Sherlock told the D.I. and Lexi frowned slightly as her phone pinged and she took it out messaging back quickly. John noted that over the last few days that had been happening more and more. She told him that she was messaging her friend Joanie from the States. She mentioned that name a lot lately.

"Yeah, that was before you two were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you three," Lestrade told them and Lexi put away her mobile quickly and looked up at Lestrade in disbelief.

"For God's sake!" Sherlock said in exasperation as he glared round at John.

"They wanted pictures of us?!" Lexi asked Lestrade incredulously and the D.I. nodded at her as John quirked a smile as they walked on. Sherlock spotted some costumes on a rack just inside a nearby dressing room. He walked in and grabbed a couple of items off the rack.

"John. Lexi," He said as he tossed a cap at John before dropping a red fedora with a black hound's tooth print on it onto Lexi's head. She grinned and righted it slightly before tilting it forward so she looked like a detective from the twenties. "Cover your faces and walk fast," Sherlock to them and Lexi nodded in understanding.

"Still, it's good for the public image, a big case like this," Lestrade told them and Sherlock looked back at him unamused while Lexi looked up at the consulting detective.

"We're private detectives. The last thing we need is a public image," Sherlock to the D.I. as put on the other hat that he had picked up, a deerstalker, and headed out the exit door pulling the hat as low as possible over his eyes and tugging the collar of his coat up. He held Lexi's hand tightly as she lowered her hat and also popped up the collar of her coat. Outside the photographers started taking pictures of him and Lexi and John once the army doctor followed them out. Sherlock held Lexi closely to him as he helped her navigate through the photographers and he got her safely into the cab before he allowed himself to let go of her hand.

**Third Person POV**

Later, some of the pictures had been used in various newspapers, together with headlines such as "Hat-man, Robin, and, Melody Malone: The web detectives", "Sherlock and Lexi Net 'Tecs", "Sherlock, John, and Lexi: Blogger Detectives", and "Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna: net phenomenons".

**(A/N Melody Malone is River Song's detective name in The Angels Take Manhattan. Lexi is a Doctor Who fan and dresses a bit like her sometimes with the trench coat and detective hat.)**

**Sherlock and Lexi Net 'Tecs**

**Written by: Kitty Riley**

_If you think you've seen it all than think again. Blogger detectives Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria "Lexi" MacKenna have taken the internet by storm. John Watson is the man behind the blog that gives a full account of the detectives' hair raising cases. Many people are wondering more about the two detectives and my inside source has given me the scoop. Sherlock Holmes, age thirty-three, is one of only two "consulting detectives" in the world. He along with Alexandria MacKenna, age thirty one, who is known as Lexi on Watson's blog solve cases about murder and mayhem which John Watson has started to blog about. Alexandria got her start in Dublin, setting up her consulting business before Sherlock even started working the scene. She moved to London at the age of twenty four and started her consulting business here in the city. Three years later Alexandria was admitted to the hospital after one of her cases got her into a spot of trouble. My sources are unsure why she was sent to the hospital, but after the case that sent her there, Alexandria shut down her consulting business. In stepped Sherlock Holmes, filling her shoes as he started up his own consulting business in London. Then only months ago, my source tells me that the two consulting detectives met for the first time. They also met blogger John Watson, age forty, who is a former military doctor. The three share a flat together now at Baker Street which suggest that the three became fast friends. After moving in together, Sherlock and Alexandria, started up a joint consulting business and they've been solving crimes together ever since. Their first case together was in helping Scotland Yard with the case of the serial suicides several months ago which resulted in finding the killer Jeff Hope, a cab driver, who was shot before he could be brought to justice. The police refuse to disclose a statement as to how Hope died which leads us to speculate, what don't the police want us to know? Surely having a live in doctor is good in the detectives' line of work. Alexandria was recently in the hospital for several days after suffering injuries she sustained on one of the cases she worked with Sherlock six weeks ago. Dr. Watson updated her condition on his blog and as of his recent update we are assured that she has made a full recovery having suffered from several broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. With Lexi MacKenna fully recovered and ready to start solving cases again, what can we expect from the Baker Street Irregulars? Time will only tell. _

The last of the newspaper reports caught the attention of one Irene Adler, who slowly stroked her hand over the photograph of Sherlock while she narrowed her eyes at the image of Alexandria. She knew the girl well, the girl that everyone loved, but she knew things about the girl now that someone had been all too happy to divulge. Irene ran her hand along her riding crop before laying it down on top of the photograph. She picked up her phone and dialled

"Hello. I think it's time, don't you?" Irene asked the person on the other line who gave her the go ahead to begin. She had a game to play with the consulting detective and now she had everything she needed to break and beat Alexandria MacKenna for good. No one did to her what that girl had and got away with it.


	59. A Scandal In Belgravia

**Aww so, I know it is Thursday, but I am in a really good mood so you all get an extra chapter this week. I know, yea! I just got home from my neurology appointment and good news, Jim is not a tumor or a lesion! Big yea! **

**Sherlock: So you are going to be around for a while?**

**Me: Of course Sherlock, I would never leave you. I love you far too much you adorable detective. **

**Sherlock: Please leave your displays of sentiment out of this. **

**John: Oh leave off her, she just found out she doesn't have some brain tumor.**

**Me: Exactly.**

**Sherlock: Oh what do I care?**

**John: That's not what it sounded like when you were sulking around the flat and worried about her.**

**Me: Aww**

**Mycroft: Making friends are we Sherlock?**

**Sherlock: Shut up Mycroft**

**Me: Alright boys, let me finish my explanation. **

**So, little Jim is actually 5-6mm of scar tissue. Apparently this can pop up sometimes and they don't know why. No causes, just does. He doesn't think it is causing anything. However, he does think I might have a sever increase in cranial pressure. This can cause the lack of vision, the headaches, and everything else, the whole shebang, so more testing. Oddly enough, the meds I am on prescribed by another doctor are used to treat cranial pressure increase and since I've been on it, it's been slightly better but still bad so we are increasing the prescription and I have to go have a spinal tap done. Basically those aren't fun and hurt a lot and they have to stick a needle in my spine and draw out some fluid. Yea! Further from there would be an MRI with contrast to check the blood vessels in my brain to make sure none of them are too narrow and then if we had to go from there, a test where they insert a small tube into the artery to inject dye. Basically some not fun tests but we might get some answers. If I do have an increase in pressure then that can be treated with meds unless it gets worse. So there we are, I've been told I can dye my hair the colour I want now that we know for sure I can keep it. Another yea! **

**So another chapter on Saturday because I'm in a good mood. Still waiting to know when I have to do the spinal tap which won't be fun but eh, I can take it. Time Lady training. Sending oodles of love and 10 points to Ravenclaw fro finishing the sentence Thou roughly Misguided. Another Cabin Pressure fan! I'm glad, I'm doing a Cabin Pressure and Sherlock crossover oneshot soon. *winks* So, Marci(been meaning to tell you that I made that your nickname) the Lemon is in play. - xoxo Melody**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty- Seven- A Scandal In Belgravia<strong>

**Third Person POV**

In the flat at 221B Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson picked up a mug and an almost empty bottle of milk from the mantelpiece and walked into the kitchen, tutting in exasperation at the mess in there. She couldn't blame Lexi, not only had the girl only just recovered, but Lord only knew that she tried to clean up after the boys. Putting the mug onto the table she took the milk across to the fridge door and opened it, recoiling from the smell emanating from inside. Apparently the boys let the flat go as soon as Lexi wasn't there to watch them properly. The girl had been helping them on cases again now that she was healed and she used the rest of her time to contact her friend, helping her on some of her own cases apparently. She was doing double duty while at the same time trying to keep Sherlock and John in line and keep the flat habitable. That was the only reason that Mrs. Hudson was giving her a hand by helping her clean up after the boys' messes or at least that was what the older woman was telling herself.

In truth, Mrs. Hudson really was their housekeeper as much as she was their landlady. She didn't mind tidying up after them. What else would she do with all her free time? Besides, they ran in and out of the flat so often these days. They were always busy with a case and Mrs. Hudson was proud of the three of them. They worked well together, anyone could see that and Sherlock and Lexi were a perfect match for each other. As soon as she had met the girl she had just known that she had finally found someone for her Sherlock. He had been ever so lonely before. She wasn't sure about John a first, not until the end, but Lexi she was always sure about. She was intelligent, an equal to Sherlock if not more so, and she had a bright personality. Lexi's smile could light up a room and the older woman had caught Sherlock smiling himself a fair few times just because of the Irish woman's infectious happiness. Mrs. Hudson loved her like she would a daughter, as much as she loved Sherlock like a son. She put the milk into the fridge door before she picked up the offending smelly item in their refrigerator and dropped it into the bin, then she pulled open the salad crisper at the bottom and took out a clear plastic bag from it. Peering at the contents, she cringed in disgust when she realized what was inside it.

"Ooh dear! Thumbs!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed in disgust as she dropped the bag back into the salad crisper, then turned as an overweight man stumbled into the kitchen through the side door and stared at her wide-eyed and confused.

"The door was ... the door was...," The man stuttered as he breathed heavily, then dropped to the floor in a dead faint. Mrs. Hudson stared at him in terror for a moment, then called out.

"Boys! Lexi! You've got another one!" Mrs. Hudson called before she bent down to the unconscious man. "Ooh!" Mrs. Hudson said as she heard footsteps on the stairs and Lexi came in through the living room door with her case bag on, her hair flying behind her as the boys raced up the stairs behind her.

"Ha ha I win. You're both too slow," Lexi crowed in delight as Sherlock and John walked into the living room behind her, slightly red in the face from the cold outside and carrying two duffel bags which they set down near the front door. Mrs. Hudson smiled at her as she stepped out of the kitchen to greet them, happy to see the Irish girl again despite the fact that there was a man lying unconscious on the floor behind her. Lexi turned around and saw Mrs. Hudson as she pulled off her coat and scarf and hung them up behind the door and grinned brightly. "So, we have a client?" Lexi asked the older woman, not missing a tick at all as she hurried over and pressed a kiss to Mrs. Hudson's cheek in greeting. That was another thing that Mrs. Hudson was fond of, Lexi was always rather affectionate with her. She always came down and had tea with her in the afternoons when she and the boys didn't have a case. It was nice to have another woman to chat with.

"In the kitchen dear, he just passed out," Mrs. Hudson told her and Lexi groaned before she walked around the older woman and entered the kitchen as John quickly joined her. Lexi knelt by their client and took his pulse before looking up at John.

"John, in my room, med bag under the bed, could you bring it to me?" Lexi asked the army doctor who nodded and walked around their client, returning a minute later with her med bag as Sherlock sent Mrs. Hudson back downstairs. She let them get to it, knowing that Lexi would handle the situation and the boys if need be. Lexi rummaged around in her bag before pulling out a small bottle of smelling salts which she uncapped and waved under their client's nose. The man shot up right as Lexi quickly leaned back on her knees before corking the bottle again and throwing it back into her med back. "Well, that's my job done," Lexi said as the consulting detective helped her to her feet.

"Alright there mate?" John asked their client as he pulled the man up and Lexi moved around the kitchen making tea, her nose still a bit pink from the cold outside. Sherlock moved over to her side and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose while John was otherwise occupied, though he did actually notice what Sherlock did, and Lexi smiled up at the consulting detective fondly as she held onto one of the tea mugs.

"Yes, well I think so that is. Sorry, are you Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna?" The man asked us as he looked between Lexi and then between John and Sherlock as if he was trying to figure out which of the men was Sherlock. Then again, they had been in the papers a lot recently, always the hat pictures which irritated Sherlock to no end.

"Alexandria," Lexi corrected the man as she got down three other mugs from the cupboard. "And yes, we are," She assured him before she looked over the consulting detective who was silently deducing their new client. "Lock, John, could you show him into the living room. I'll be with you in a second," Lexi told them and John nodded before helping their client into the living room, setting out the dining chair for him. Sherlock lingered in the kitchen with Lexi as John sat down in his chair and smiled back at their new client tightly. At least Lexi seemed to be at ease for once.

John moved to the couch after Lexi brought their tea in from the kitchen, Sherlock carrying his and Lexi's mugs. After they had finished their tea and got their client to speak more, they learned that his name was Phil. Lexi got up from where she had perched on the couch next to John and stood near Sherlock as he paced around the room. That was one of the new things too. Even when they were in the same room as each other they were always right near each other. It was like they couldn't stand to be more than a few feet from each other. John assumed that her tattoo had some meaning behind it that related to Sherlock, but he couldn't be sure. John wasn't sure if they were in a relationship and were just hiding it or if they were still just dancing around each other. Whatever it was, they certainly were no longer just friends. He could never be certain with them, they were after all Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna. They were either married to their work or as Lexi put it, dating was not their area.

"Tell us from the start. Don't be boring," Sherlock told Phil sternly and Lexi gave him a reproving look, raising one of her eyebrows at him and he sighed before nodding slightly at her. Oh yeah, they were dating.

**Flashback**

Fourteen hours earlier. Somewhere out in the countryside Phil's car had broken down in a quiet country lane. He tried to start the engine for what was the umpteenth time but it just whined and refused to start. Phil slammed his hands angrily onto the steering wheel and got out again to stare uselessly down under the open bonnet and tweak a few connections hopefully. He looked around but there was no sign of any other traffic. He looked into the field at the side of the road. The field stretched down to a river some distance away and a man wearing a red jacket was standing at the edge of a stream which led down to the river. He had his back to the road. Phil peered at him for a moment but he was too far away to have even noticed what was happening on the road and eventually Phil got back into the car again and tried once more to start the engine. It whined ferociously and then loudly backfired. Phil sighed, then looked across towards the river and realized that the man was now lying on the ground. He got out of the car and stared.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Phil called out to the man who didn't respond or react. "Excuse me! Are you all right?" Phil called as he started to walk towards him. Yet unseen by Phil, the man had fallen onto his back. There was a lot of blood underneath the back of his head and he was quite obviously dead.

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

It was too late to go out to the crime scene as it was already night time. Phil left us to go back to his hotel for the night and he would be back to the flat in the morning. We all decided to head to bed as John and I had just gotten back from Dublin that night and Sherlock had met us at the airport to pick us up. John had wanted to take a little break from all of our recent cases and when he wanted to go to Ireland I had offered to go with him since I had lived in Dublin and knew the city well. We spent two days in the city before coming back and I had showed him where the best pubs were. I got in touch with one of my old contacts on the police force and solved a case with Sherlock over Skype to keep him busy while we were gone. It was the longest we had been apart for and the farthest we had been from each other since Moriarty. Sherlock had agreed with me when I suggested to him first before even mentioning to John about going with him to Dublin that it was a good idea to try a trial separation. We wouldn't be that far from each other and he could be assured that I would be with John while I was assured that he was in the flat and had Lestrade's help in the worst case scenario. We also would only be separated for less than two days which meant that it was a good start to ease our anxiety at being away from one another. I went back to my old room and changed into a pair of Sherlock's sweatpants and John's oatmeal jumper which I had stolen when he wasn't looking before I tied my hair into a high ponytail to keep it all together. I slipped into Sherlock's and technically my new room, our room, and he lifted the comforter and let me slip under it. Ever since our encounter with Moriarty, Sherlock and I had been sharing a bed. We both hated to be alone as we both kept having nightmares about that night. We just slept, nothing more, but sleeping next to each other kept the nightmares at bay and reminded us that we were still there, still together and still had each other. I grinned as I looked down at the consulting detective who already had his eyes closed and his hair mussed up. I loved getting to see him like this, it was a privilege only afforded to me.

I crawled onto the bed and over to him, nestling myself down into his side before he lowered the blanket and tucked it around me, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist and burying his face into my shoulder. I turned in his arms and he froze slightly as he always did when he was unsure about something I did before he relaxed as I nuzzled my face into his chest. I sighed in contentment and breathed in slowly and deeply, my entire body relaxing as I breathed in his unique scent, and I closed my eyes as Sherlock started humming my lullaby, the sound rumbling in his chest under my ear. I fell asleep to the sound of his voice and his slow steady heartbeat under my ear. The sound of Sherlock's heart had become my one constant reminder that he was alive and safe and near me and it had become better than any sound in the world. As long as we both were alive, everything was right in the world.

I woke up as Sherlock shifted underneath me and I blinked in the early morning darkness of his room as he climbed out of bed before he leaned down and pulled the comforter back up around me. He bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead and told me to go back to sleep. I murmured sleepily and snuggled down into the warmth of the blankets, burrowing my face into his pillow as I closed my eyes again. I listened for a few minutes as I heard him quietly talking to John out in the living room before I fell back to sleep. I woke up again for a few minutes when Sherlock slid back into bed. He lifted me up slightly and I scooted back over to him, my legs tangling with his as I wrapped my arm around his waist and laid my head on top of his chest again. He pressed a kiss to my hair before he slid his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him, resting his face in my hair and breathing in deeply as if he was calming himself. He hummed to me until I fell back to sleep as he rubbed patterns onto the bare skin of my hip as John's jumper had ridden up slightly when I had scooted back over to him. When I woke up again the sunlight was steadily streaming through Sherlock's window and I groaned as I turned and pressed my face into Sherlock's side. The consulting detective chuckled underneath me, his chest rumbling with the sound and I groaned again before pulling myself up onto my elbow so I could stare down at him.

Sherlock turned his head towards me so I was staring down into his eyes, blue grey crab nebulas meeting hazel. I grinned at him sleepily before I leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips for a brief moment before I laid back down. "Morning," I told Sherlock, my voice thick with sleep so my accent was likewise thick.

"Good morning," Sherlock told me as he pulled me tightly to his side and buried his face in my hair, breathing softly as we cuddled slightly. I had been right. Sherlock did crave affection. I giggled and put my hands over his and leaned back against him.

"Hmm so…we have a case," I hummed, reminding Sherlock, knowing we would have to get up soon.

"We do. I sent John out to the crime scene this morning. Once he gets there he'll give us a call over video chat and show us the crime scene. Phil came by this morning too. I left him in the living room and had John go the crime scene alone so that you could sleep more." Sherlock told me and I looked back at him with slightly unfocused eyes. I turned in his arms and put my head under his chest and breathed into the crook of his neck.

Sherlock knew I hadn't been sleeping much lately and it was honestly nice to know that for once someone was looking out for me and taking care of me even when they didn't have to. I was strong and could take care of myself, but you always needed someone who thought about you, who actually wanted to know how you were and cared. Ever since Moriarty and our confession, Sherlock had been that person for me. I had thought for so long that I was going to be alone, that no one would ever take an interest in me or ever care about me but… I had been wrong. It was the first time in my life that I was actually glad to be wrong. For once, the future didn't look so bleak. Just months ago I had been living alone, possibly about to relapse, and then I met Sherlock and John and they got me into solving cases again and they gave me something I hadn't had in a very long time, a family. I had a family here at Baker Street now and my life was finally turning around.

"Thank you," I told the consulting detective and he hummed slightly. "So is Project Indigo under way?" I asked Sherlock and he chuckled, his chest rumbling again. Sherlock and I had realized lately that John suspected that there was something between us. We weren't hiding it from him and Mycroft, but we also weren't flaunting it in public just yet. Given that, Sherlock and I had an idea to mess with John a bit. It involved making John think that more had happened between us than what had. We wanted to see what his reaction would be and who he might tell. We also wanted to see how quickly the information would get back to Mycroft and how he would take it. Mycroft suspected that we were dating yes, but I had yet to have that conversation with him. Now seemed like a perfect time to test it. With John out of the flat and seeing us only over video chat, we could make our act seem even more believable.

"I think now would be a perfect time to test it," Sherlock told me and I laughed again as Sherlock pulled back from me and sat up in bed. I followed him to a sitting position and grinned at him as he got out of bed and started unbuttoning his shirt.

I slid out of the other side of his bed and grabbed his blue robe which was his favourite off of the back of his door, turning around to give him some semblance of privacy. "You are keeping your pants on!" I told him and I heard him let out a huff behind me as I grinned, my arms crossed over my chest as I waited for him to let me turn back around.

"That would defeat the purpose of our test if it gave us away," Sherlock said and I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"I think we'll do just fine," I told him before he gave me the cue to turn around. He was now wrapped up in a white sheet from his bed, looking to everyone else as if he was completely naked underneath. "Besides, can't tell a thing," I told him as I walked over to him, throwing his robe over the bottom of his now torn apart bed and ruffled my hands through his curls to give him that crazed bed head look. Sherlock bit his lip slightly and I felt pride in knowing that this actually turned him on quite a bit when I played with his hair. Of course now knowing this was sort of funny as I thought back to when he wanted me to continue playing with his hair to help with his "headache." I grinned slightly and pressed a kiss to his chin as I scratched his scalp slightly for good measure with my nails. He growled warningly and I smirked up at him before I tilted my head to the side. "I think he'll buy it," I told him nodding once and he grinned slightly at me before leaning down and kissing me slightly. I noticed that his kiss was just a tad bit harder than normal and I smiled slightly, knowing that I managed to get to him. We might be keeping things chaste but every so often I took things just a slight bit further and teased him ever so slightly, just as he teased me by rubbing his thumb over my bare skin was rather sensitive too. We were going to try and convince John that we had slept together. We weren't ready for that by far and as much as we teased each other on occasion, it wasn't nearly as bad as how much we could really tease each other if we were trying. We still kind of danced around each other and ever since our first kiss we kept each one after that chaste for the most part. "John should be calling about now if he left this morning," I told Sherlock as I pushed him towards the door. "I'll join you out there in a minute," I told the consulting detective and he nodded at me. I shook my head as he left me before quickly taking off my sleep clothes. I changed into a strapless bra and left my underwear on. I wasn't going that far for this experiment. I pulled on Sherlock's robe before I took my hair down and mussed up my hair. Project Indigo was underway.

**Third Person POV**

Many hours later a crime scene had been set up at the riverside. A young police officer brought a mobile phone over to Detective Inspector Carter who was running the case. They had been out there since early that morning. The witness and suspect in the case had apparently gone to London to consult some private detectives. Now the police were doing the actual work.

"Sir. Phone call for you," The police officer told Carter as he walked up to him and handed him over the phone.

"Carter," Carter answered as raised the phone to his ear and spoke into it.

"Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna?" Someone asked him on the other line and Carter recognized him as Detective Inspector Lestrade who ran the homicide division.

"Who?" Carter asked his colleague in confusion, having never heard the names before.

"Well, you're about to meet them now. This is your case. It's entirely up to you. This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock and Lexi five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that they have to say. And as far as possible, try not to punch him. If he gets to be too bad though Lexi just might do it for you," Lestrade told Carter. As he was speaking, a car had driven up and stopped near the crime scene. Carter looked at the phone in bewilderment as Lestrade ended the call. The young police officer who had brought him the phone was leaning into the car speaking to the person in the back seat.

"Okay," Carter heard him say as he turned to Carter as the D.I. walked towards him. "Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you," The police officer told him.

"Yes, I know," Carter said as he walked closer to the car. "Sherlock Holmes. And is Lexi MacKenna not with you?" Carter asked the man in the car in confusion, not seeing a woman with him. The blonde haired man got out of the car and shook Carter's hair.

"John Watson. Are you set up for Wi-Fi?" The man asked him and Carter nodded, starting to get a feeling that this was not going to go well for him. Something told me that if Lestrade told him he would want to punch this Sherlock Holmes that the man was going to cause a lot of trouble for him.

**Third Person POV**

**Baker Street**

Back at 221B Sherlock yawned as he wandered out from the hallway behind the kitchen and strolled into the kitchen wearing only the sheet wrapped around him. So far their plan was going well. He had answered John's call, made tea for himself and Lexi, and Lexi would be coming out of his bedroom in a few minutes time to join him setting step two of their plan into motion. Sherlock wanted to see how long it would take for Mycroft to find out about their fake sexual activity. He theorized that it wouldn't take long. Sherlock, well he was slightly uncomfortable with the entire thing even if he was trying to hide it. It wasn't the fact that John or Mycroft would think he had sex with Lexi it was the fact of it being sex with Lexi. Lexi had been the first woman he had ever kissed. Even in Uni he hadn't been interested in anyone, not that any woman had ever been interested in him. He was the freak after all. Sure he was physically appealing so women had thrown themselves at him, but Sherlock had turned them all down quite harshly which put an end to any further inquiries. He had never found a woman that appealed to him in any sexual way before. Lexi certain appealed to him in that way but he couldn't say why. She was beautiful yes and also intelligent, funny, charming, maybe some combination of these virtues were required for him to find someone even remotely sexually attractive? Things were still rather awkward between him and Lexi. He was trying to let her in and step out of his comfort zone and so far he was comfortable with where they were.

There was a part of him that wondered if Lexi might ever want to do… that with him. She admitted that she hadn't ever done anything like that before, just like he hadn't. That had honestly shocked Sherlock. He assumed, well he assumed that she would have had at least done it once. She was exceedingly beautiful after all and there had been many men who had taken an interest in her recently. Actually the fact that she hadn't, well, it actually made Sherlock feel rather happy. In some odd way, knowing she had never shared that part of herself with anyone else before relieved him. She was just as unexperienced as he was. Sherlock had to smile smugly to himself when she had rolled her eyes at every single one of the men who had vied for her attention, even with him present, before she had chosen him. She had chosen him. Him over John and him over everyone else. There was that part of Sherlock that was slightly worried however that soon, what he was able to give to Lexi wouldn't be enough. He wasn't comfortable taking their relationship any further yet. Yes, he was sexually attracted to Lexi, alarmingly so, but sex had to do with so many emotions and he wasn't ready yet for that sort of sentimental attachment or chemical defect or the general clinginess that came afterwards. He had already seen how two of John's one night stands had ended and Sherlock didn't want his current relationship with Lexi to change. Things were going well so far he thought. He was worried that soon she would want to take it further though and he couldn't give her that or then he would lose her. So far she had been very understanding. She hadn't pushed him and let him initiate most of their kisses. Right now he felt comfortable with that. He was still waiting for that moment though.

"You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating?" John said, drawing Sherlock back to the current moment.

Sherlock was still yawning as he picked up his mug of tea from the side table. "It's okay, I'm fine," Sherlock said as he walked over to Lexi's open laptop on the work surface. Lexi had given him the password to it and had conceded to letting him use it recently. Sherlock picked it up and looked into the screen as he carried the laptop into the living room. He heard Lexi open his bedroom door behind him and she padded barefooted into the kitchen and picked up her mug of tea before she followed behind him into the living room. Sherlock looked back at her slightly before turning around quickly as his mouth went dry. Her hair was messed up like his and it looked like she was only wearing his robe. It was open slightly at the top, just enough to reveal a bit of her skin on her chest. It did actually look to anyone who hadn't a clue that they had just had intercourse and from the looks of Lexi's hair, either intentionally done or added to by her bedhead and massively tangled hair, rather vigorous intercourse at that.

"Morning John," Lexi said as she acted like she had just woken up, yawning as she came to stand behind Sherlock, pressing her front to his back as she leaned down so that John could see her as well. She sipped her tea as John blinked back at her his face morphing into one of shock. Sherlock could feel every inch of her chest pressed against his back and it made him feel slightly…aroused. He bit the inside of his cheek and started reciting the periodic chart in his head to push those thoughts out of his mind. That was one discussion he really didn't need to have with Lexi this morning.

"Now, show us to the stream," Sherlock said cutting over Lexi to try and act like nothing remotely out of the ordinary had happened between them. Act normal. That was the first rule in any good prank or mission. The doorbell suddenly rang downstairs but both consulting detectives ignored it.

"I didn't really mean for you," John told Sherlock before he looked back at Lexi again. "So, um, you two, where were you just now Lexi?" John asked the Irish detective seemingly nonchalantly as she set her mug down on the table and wrapped her arms around Sherlock's shoulders.

"Sherlock's room," Lexi remarked as she leaned down and kissed Sherlock's cheekbone and he held back a shudder, wondering what was different this morning and why she was affecting him so much. "And I know this is a bit humiliating John but this case is barely a six and Sherlock refuses to leave the flat for anything less than a seven and I can't leave him on his own," Lexi finished as she sat down on Sherlock's lap which didn't make things any easier.

"Sherlock's bedroom?!" John sputtered. "We're you two just…?!" He trailed off as if he couldn't even say the words but then seemed to take in their apparel and hair with horror.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Lexi told John as she settled back against Sherlock's chest and Sherlock smirked as he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the side of her cheek near her ear. She giggled slightly and looked back at Sherlock as John spluttered on the screen and Sherlock smirked slightly in triumph when he realized that he had made her shiver slightly.

"Why can't you two just put on some bloody clothes and come down here?" John asked the two detectives, quickly changing the subject. John did not want to know what they had been up to with him out of the flat. Sure, everything he had been wondering lately had just been confirmed, but he really, really didn't know if they had been doing… well that. There were some lines he didn't want to cross and some things he would rather be oblivious to.

"Because we agreed. Now, go back. Show us the grass," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he tried to get John back on track. So far though his plan was working. John was convinced that they had done exactly what they wanted him to believe. The army doctor walked down to the stream and pointed the camera on his own laptop towards the grass at the stream's edge and squatted down.

"When did we agree that?" John asked the detectives and Lexi shook her head slightly and smirked.

"We agreed to it yesterday. Stop!" Sherlock said as he leaned closer to the screen, forcing Lexi to lean with him as he looked at the mud on the ground. "Closer," Sherlock ordered him and instead of following his instructions, John swung the laptop around so that he could look into the camera.

"I wasn't even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin with Lexi," John reminded Sherlock exasperatedly.

"Well, it's hardly my fault you weren't listening," Sherlock told the army doctor as the doorbell rang more insistently. Sherlock briefly looked round in the direction of the stairs, as Lexi also turned her head to look back. "SHUT UP!" Sherlock yelled angrily towards the stairs and Lexi sighed before leaning and pressing a kiss to Sherlock's cheek as he turned back round towards the laptop.

"D'you just carry on talking when I'm away?" John asked Sherlock as Lexi settled in against the detectives chest again, an amused smile on her face as she listened to their banter.

"I don't know. How often are you two away?" Sherlock asked the army doctor, shrugging as he did so. "Now, show us the car that backfired," Sherlock directed John who stood up with a sigh and turned the laptop and its camera towards the road to show them Phil's car.

"It's there," John told them as Lexi tilted her head to the side, blinking slowly as she deduced and calculated.

"That's the one that made the noise, yes?" Sherlock asked John and Lexi nodded slightly as she leaned in a little toward the camera, squinting as she didn't have her glasses on.

"Yeah," John answered him as he swung the camera back around to look into it. "And if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's gotta be an eight at least," John told them as Sherlock leaned back in his chair, pulling Lexi back with him, and ran his finger back and forth over his top lip as he thought over the case. As John walked back towards the road, Carter followed along behind him.

"You've got two more minutes, then I want to know more about the driver," Carter told John and the two detectives, having been introduced to Sherlock when he had accepted the Skype call from John and having figured out on his own that the redheaded Irish girl was the Lexi MacKenna that Lestrade had told him about.

"Oh, forget him. He's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?" Sherlock said as he waved his hand dismissively. Carter caught up to John and leaned over to look into the camera.

"I think he's a suspect!" Carter told him and Sherlock leaned forward angrily forcing Lexi to lean with him again. She sighed and rolled her eyes fondly but went with him.

"Pass us over," Sherlock ordered John as Lexi patted the hand that he had tightly around her waist, holding her to him and also to steady her.

"All right, but there's a Mute button and I will use it," John warned Sherlock as he tilted the laptop at an angle that Sherlock was not happy with.

"Up a bit! We're not talking from down 'ere!" Sherlock told John irritatedly. John had had enough and offered the laptop to Carter.

"Okay, just take it, take it," John told Carter in exasperation and Carter took the laptop as Sherlock started talking at double his usual speed.

"Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?!" Sherlock asked Carter rapid fire.

"He's trying to be clever. It's over-confidence," Carter told him and Lexi shook her head in scrunched up her nose in an adorable way. Sherlock sighed in exasperation and Lexi rubbed her thumb over his knuckles before he began his explanation again.

"Did you see him? Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own, the right sleeve of an internet porn addict and the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self-esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy – and you think he's an audacious criminal mastermind?!" Sherlock laughed as he turned around to John's chair where Phil had been sitting all the while they had been talking to John and Carter over Skype. "Don't worry – this is just stupid," Sherlock told Phil as he held Lexi slightly closer to him, not liking the way the man had been eyeing Lexi since she stepped out of the kitchen. Lexi was his. He didn't like anyone else looking at her.

"What did you say? Heart what?" Phil asked Sherlock anxiously as Sherlock ignored him and turned back towards the camera with Lexi.

"Go to the stream," Sherlock directed Carter.

"What's in the stream?" Carter asked Sherlock as Lexi grinned back at him.

"I would go and see for yourself. Trust me, you won't be able to miss it," Lexi told him, speaking up for the first time. As Carter handed the laptop back to John, Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs and into the living room followed by two men wearing suits.

"Sherlock! Lexi! You weren't answering your doorbell!" Mrs. Hudson told them and they both turned around, Lexi sighing in exasperation as she noticed one of the men was a guy named Plummer who worked for Mycroft. Plummer looked at his colleague while pointing with his thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

"Their rooms are through the back. Get them some clothes," Plummer told the other man that Lexi didn't recognize. He was new then. Well, he would very quickly learn what she was like. Mycroft was breaking him in.

"Who the hell are you?" Sherlock asked Plummer as Lexi rolled her eyes in exasperation and let out an irritated breath.

"Now, really?" Lexi asked the man, shaking her head and Plummer fixed her with his customary look her reserved especially for her.

"Sorry, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna. You're coming with us," Plummer told them as he reached forward to close down the lid of the laptop. John called out in alarm before he was disconnected.

"Sherlock, Lexi, what's going on? What's happening?" John asked as his screen went black, he poked at the keyboard frantically. "I've lost them. I don't know what...," John said as the young police officer that greeted him earlier when he arrived hurried over to him with a phone pressed to his ear.

"Doctor Watson?" The young officer asked him and John looked up at him quickly.

"Yeah," John answered him before he continued to try and get Sherlock and Lexi back.

"It's for you," The officer told him and John answered him distractedly.

"Okay, thanks," John told him, still looking at the screen as he held out his hand for the phone.

"Uh, no, sir. The helicopter," The police officer told him and they both turned and look at the helicopter which was just coming in to land at the edge of the river.

**Lexi's POV**

Back at 221B, Plummer's colleague had collected a pile of clothes for Sherlock and me along with a pair of shoes and put them down onto the table in front of Sherlock and me. Sherlock raised his eyebrows and shrugged disinterestedly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Mycroft never sent Plummer unless he knew he was going to be met with opposition. That told me that he had a case for us which I wasn't too happy about. The last case he had given to us, he had used us as tools. The Bruce Partington plans were too easy to find. He could have sent his own men to find them, but he had used us because it benefitted him. I didn't particularly like being used nor did I like Mycroft taking advantage of Sherlock. I really hadn't talked to him since everything that had happened at the end of that case. I had seen him in the hospital, but after that I had tried to steer clear from him over the last month and a half.

"Please, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna. Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed," Plummer told us and Sherlock turned his head and gazed at the man, beginning to deduce him. I deduced him as well to see if there was anything new with him.

Looking at his clothes I could deduce that his suit was around £700. So, Mycroft had given him a recent pay raise. Glancing at his breast pocket and the area where a pistol would be if Plummer was carrying one, I determined that he was unarmed. Next came his thumbnails which were manicured. His forehead told me office worker, but I knew that he also went on house calls for Mycroft to collect me. The way his hands were folded in front of him told me he was right handed, not left handed like Sherlock and I were. Looking down to his shoes I could tell he was an indoor worker and he was for the most part. There were some wiry hairs on the cuff of his trouser leg so he had a small dog. Hair higher up on the same trouser leg told me two small togs and even more hairs on the other trouser leg told me that he had three small dogs. He had gotten another one recently then. And that was how you could deduce someone. Look at them and really observe them and you could find out far more than you thought you would be able to.

Sherlock smiled smugly and looked up into Plummer's face. "Oh, I know exactly where we're going," Sherlock told him as Lexi stood up and frowned.

"I've told Mycroft not to collect me without giving me warning first," I told Plummer and he sighed in frustration.

"Please Ms. MacKenna. Don't make this harder for yourself," Plummer told me and I smiled smugly at him.

"Oh don't worry," I told Plummer as I took Sherlock's hand in mine and he stood up to join me. "I don't intend to," I finished as I started to the door, Sherlock following me as we both started barefooted down the stairs, not even bothering to put our clothes on. If Mycroft wanted to see us then he could get us exactly the way we were. We got into the back of the car Mycroft had sent for us as Plummer got into the driver side, his colleague carrying both of our clothes with him. It would appear that I had another appointment at Buckingham Palace to get to.

**John's POV**

Sometime later John was sitting beside the pilot who was taking him God only knows where. John frowned and looked down as the helicopter flew over London. As it approached Buckingham Palace the pilot began to speak into his coms and got clearance to land. What the bloody hell was going on? More importantly, what had Lexi and Sherlock done? Not long after they had landed, John was shown through the palace and into an enormous ornate hall with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He looked around for a moment in awe wondering just how Lexi actually managed to break into a place like this. He had seen a lot of security on his way in and he wondered if some of that had been put into place after Lexi had gotten in or before. John followed his escort who gestured him into a nearby room before walking away. On a small round table in the middle of the room were two piles of clothes and shoes one of which obviously belonged to Sherlock and the other which clearly belonged to Lexi. There was a sofa on either side of the table and sitting on the left-hand one was Sherlock, still wrapped in his sheet, and Lexi who was sitting next to him still only dressed in Sherlock's robe. They both looked across to John calmly as he entered the room and Lexi smirked slightly at the army doctor. John held out his hands in a "What the hell?!" gesture and Sherlock and Lexi shrugged disinterestedly and looked away again. Nodding in a resigned way, John walked slowly into the room, then sat down on the sofa beside Lexi feeling slightly uncomfortable and awkward. He gazed in front of himself for a moment, chewing back a giggle, looked around the room again, and then looked at Sherlock and Lexi, peering closely at Sherlock's sheet, particularly the section wrapped around his backside. He was very careful not to look over at Lexi for too long, not needing to see anything on her. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her legs crossed at her feet which told him everything he needed to know. He turned his head away from them again.

"Are you two wearing any pants?" John asked the both of them and Lexi bit her lip, holding back a grin.

"No," Sherlock said as Lexi shook her head.

"Nope," She confirmed, popping the p in the word slightly as she grinned a bit, not looking at Sherlock as the three of them stared straight ahead.

"Okay," John said as he sighed quietly. A moment later Sherlock turned and looked at him from across Lexi just as John also turned to look at the both of them as Lexi also turned to face the army doctor. Their eyes meet and they promptly burst out laughing. John gestured around the building. "At Buckingham Palace, fine," John said as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh, I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray," John said and Sherlock and Lexi chuckled again, Sherlock's deep baritone a large contrast from Lexi's higher pitched laugh. "What are we doing here, Sherlock, Lexi? Seriously, what?" John asked the two detectives.

"I don't know," Sherlock said, still smiling as was Lexi.

"I have a theory," Lexi said, frowning only slightly.

"Here to see the Queen?" John asked them and at that moment Mycroft walked in from the next room.

"Oh, apparently yes," Sherlock said as John cracked up again and Sherlock and Lexi promptly joined in. The two of them continued to giggle as Mycroft looked at them in exasperation.

"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?" Mycroft asked them in exasperation as Lexi fixed him with a look and shook her head, grinning at him.

"We solve crimes, I blog about it, they forget their pants, and Lexi makes witty comments to murderers and psychopaths, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope," John told Mycroft as Sherlock looked up at his brother as he walked into the room, all humour gone from his face.

"We were in the middle of a case, Mycroft," Sherlock said in irritation.

"What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?" Mycroft said and Lexi raised her eyebrow at Mycroft narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Transparent," Sherlock told him and John looked at the two detectives startled. They had already solved it?

"But completely beside the point," Lexi muttered, but she was ignored which John could see made her narrow her eyes more at Mycroft.

"Time to move on, then," Mycroft said as he bent down and picked up Sherlock and Lexi's clothes and shoes from the table, turning to offer them to the two detectives. Sherlock gazed at them uninterestedly as Lexi only raised her eyebrow higher and Mycroft sighed.

"We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation," Mycroft said sternly. "Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on. And Alexandria MacKenna stop acting like a child and put your clothes on," Mycroft scolded the two of them.

"What for?" Sherlock asked his brother quick fire, shrugging.

"Your client," Mycroft told the two detectives.

"And our client is?" Sherlock asked as he and Lexi stood up. Lexi was gazing at Mycroft stonily and John knew that that was never good.

"Illustrious ...," A man said and Sherlock and Lexi both turned to look at the person who had just walked into the room. "...in the extreme," The man continued as John stood up respectfully.  
>"And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous," The man said as he looked across to Mycroft as Lexi tilted her head to the side and studied him. "Mycroft!"<p>

"Harry," Mycroft answered as he smiled and walked over and shook the equerry's hand. "May I just apologize for the state of my little brother and his… friend?" Mycroft asked the equerry as he looked over at Lexi who was quite obviously only wearing Sherlock's robe. Friend didn't seem to describe her any longer.

"Full-time occupation, I imagine," The man, Harry, told Mycroft and Sherlock and Lexi both scowled at Mycroft.

"And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," Harry said as he offered his hand to John.

"Hello, yes," John answered the man as they shook hands.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog," Harry told John who looked at him startled.

"Your employer?" John asked him, hoping he wasn't talking about who he thought he was.

"Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch," Harry added, ignoring the question which John noticed.

"Thank you!" John told him as he looked round at Sherlock, clearing his throat smugly.

"And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs," Harry said as he walked closer to Sherlock.

"I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friends," Sherlock said as he looked round momentarily at John and Lexi as the Irish girl looked up at him and raised her eyebrow.

"Short?" Lexi asked him and Sherlock cleared his throat as he looked down at her.

"More or less," He told her tilting his head to the side as he regarded her carefully and Lexi harrumphed as Mycroft, John, and Harry smirked at them.

"And Ms. MacKenna, Mycroft has told me a lot about you as well. My employer had spoken of you as well. We've heard of your little…escapades of course. Would you prefer Alexandria or Lexi?" Harry asked the Irish girl as she turned to him.

"Alex actually," Lexi answered him and he nodded at her slightly as Sherlock walked abruptly past Harry, forcing him to step back, and approached his brother.

"Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients and neither does Lexi. We're used to mystery at one end of our cases. Both ends is too much work," Sherlock told Mycroft as he looked round at Harry. "Good morning," Sherlock told Harry and he started to walk out of the room but Mycroft stepped onto the trailing edge of the sheet behind him. Sherlock's impetus carried him forward while pulling the sheet off his body. Lexi stepped forward quickly before stopping as Sherlock quickly stopped as well and grabbed at it before he was completely naked and tried to tug the sheet back around himself, looking furious.

"This is a matter of national importance. Grow up," Mycroft told Sherlock and with his back still turned to his brother, Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock ordered Mycroft as Lexi walked towards him.

"Or what?" Mycroft asked him calmly.

"Or I'll just walk away," Sherlock threatened him.

"I'll let you," Mycroft told Sherlock and John stepped forward to stop them.

"I would love that," Lexi mused and both John and Mycroft shot her scandalized looks as she just smirked at them with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Boys, please. Not here," John told them, trying to get the both of them to stop before this got out of hand. Lexi wasn't helping as she glared at Mycroft icily.

"Who. Is. Our. Client?" Sherlock asked Mycroft almost incandescent with rage.

"Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God's sake...," Mycroft said as he broke off and glanced at the equerry briefly, trying to get his anger under control before he turned back to his brother again. "...both of you put your clothes on!" Mycroft told the two detectives exasperatedly.

Lexi stepped forward then and stood right in front of Mycroft looking very imposing for a girl that was at least four inches or so shorter than him. "Mycroft, I don't remember when you got the idea into your head that you owned us. Sherlock may be your brother, but that doesn't mean he bows down to your every whim. Neither do I for that matter and you better keep that in mind in the future," Lexi snapped at Mycroft and John realized that they had probably been arguing lately. "Now, get your foot off his sheet," Lexi directed Mycroft and he stepped back, eyeing Lexi warily as did Harry. Lexi then bent down and snatched up Sherlock and her clothes. "We will listen to what you have to say, but don't expect anything. I refuse to make you anymore promises," Lexi told Mycroft as she passed by him and she walked around Sherlock, talking his hand in hers before she stormed off, followed by the consulting detective. John shifted awkwardly as he looked back at Mycroft who looked slightly pale but otherwise calm. There was one thing John knew for sure, he never wanted to be on the other end of Lexi's anger.

**Lexi's POV**

I lead Sherlock into one of the bathrooms that was just down the hall and I looked the door behind us as I walked forward and set our clothes down on the counter of the sink. I leaned over the sink and sighed heavily as I looked up into the mirror, staring back at my reflection. Sherlock suddenly came and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his face into the crook of my neck. I turned around in his arms and pressed my face into his chest and breathed in his scent, calming down slightly under his touch. I sighed again and Sherlock held me closer to him, despite the fact that he was only wearing the sheet around his waist now. The feeling of his bare chest under my cheek was nice and definitely worked to calm me down slightly.

"I'm sorry. He's just pissing me off so badly," I mumbled into Sherlock's chest and he chuckled slightly.

"No complaints," Sherlock mumbled into my hair and I laughed against his chest as I pulled back to look up into his face.

"Ugh, we have to go back out there," I groaned and Sherlock leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Or we could escape. Know any good ways to break out of the palace?" Sherlock asked me and I grinned back at him.

"I could think of a few ways," I told Sherlock before shaking my head. "But Mycroft knew I was angry at him and asked for our help anyway so it has to be important. I told him we would listen and we should, but I told him I didn't promise him anything," I reminded Sherlock and he nodded as I turned around and grabbed my clothes. I pushed his towards him and he sighed in exasperation.

"Must I?" He asked me and I nodded at him and laughed.

"Aye, I think Project Indigo worked. Besides, bit cold," I said as I pulled on the thick pair of woollen socks on top of my pile of clothes. Sherlock sighed and turned around as I did as well and we quickly pulled our clothes on.

Once we were dressed, Sherlock in his signature suit and I in a pair of black jeans and a deep blue blouse with lacy bell sleeves, we walked out of the bathroom to join Mycroft, John, and the equerry. We saw a maid in the hall and I handed her Sherlock's folded up sheet and robe and I told her to have them sent to 221B Baker Street and she better make sure that they get there. Sherlock took my hand in his and stopped me just before we went back in to join the rest of them. I looked up at him in confusion and he smirked at me before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips. The suddenness and randomness of it surprised me but it was greatly appreciated and I knew that Sherlock could see that I needed that bit of encouragement. I sighed at him when we broke apart after a minute and put my arms around his chest and hugged him as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held me closely to him. I took some deep calming breaths to calm myself before we headed back in there, thankful that Sherlock knew exactly what I needed. I wish that that moment could never end, because I had no idea that as soon as we walked back into that room that my entire life was about to change. And that change came with one name that made my life unravel and fall apart… Irene Adler.


	60. The Dominatrix

**Hello sweeties! Welcome back to Scandal in Belgravia. We continue on with the chapters and I shall keep this brief. First some responses to reviews and then I will see you all back here on Tuesday when I introduce Irene into the picture.**

**Angeline: Your English is beautiful sweetie. Thank you so much for your review. I am glad that you are liking the story so far. Besides writing fanfiction I'm writing two detective novel series. One is my own modern day story which features Sherlock with all my own cases and includes Lexi MacKenna and my second features the characters Hailey Smith and Jack Hartnel, MI6 Agents who work to discover and dispense government plots. I'm also writing a few other detective stories. Basically it is all I write. I do like fantasy stories though but I love writing crime novels and regency era pieces.**

**Willow Owl: I honestly don't know how I came up with Lexi. She just sort of popped up in my head one day and she sort off stuck around long enough for me to do something with her. Writing has always been like that for me. I just sit down and start typing or writing. I don't have tot hink, the words really just come to me. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty Eight- The Dominatrix<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sometime later, Sherlock and I joined Mycroft, Harry, and John again now that we were completely dressed. We sat back down on the sofa again beside John and I folded my hands in my lap as Sherlock pulled me against his side so that my back was resting on his chest. Mycroft and the equerry sat on the opposite sofa and Mycroft looked over at Sherlock and me with curiosity. I stared back at him passively, willing to hear him out, but not willing to let him think that he could order Sherlock and me around. Mycroft poured us some tea from a teapot he had brought up to us. Following the old-fashioned superstition that only one person in the household, that person usually being the mother of the family, should pour the tea, and so any person pouring tea is "being mother", he looked at the equerry and smiled.

"I'll be mother," Mycroft said and I sighed, rolling my eyes at him as Sherlock tightened his arm around my waist slightly to comfort me as he knew I wasn't in the best mood with Mycroft right now. We had been fighting a lot recently, in fact, this was the first time I had seen him in over a month.

"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell," Sherlock said pointedly and Mycroft glowered at him, then put the teapot down. The equerry looked over at Sherlock and I and I gestured for him to begin.

"My employer has a problem," Harry told us and I nodded.

"Well, obviously, or we wouldn't be here," I bit out as I gave Mycroft a pointed look and he sighed heavily before he continued for the equerry.

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen. As for you Alexandria," Mycroft said as he turned his gaze to me. "Your knowledge of crimes of this nature is needed to make sure some things do not fall into the wrong hands. Your contacts will also prove highly useful," Mycroft told me and I raised my eyebrow slightly as my lips drew into a tight line.

"Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to us?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, looking at him over the top of my head. Fair point. He had enough people who could solve this for him which meant that he had called us in out of convenience. My eyebrow raised steadily closer to my hairline as I fixed Mycroft with an icy look. He was smart enough not to meet my gaze and was looking at everyone except me.

"People do come to you two for help, don't they, Mr Holmes, Ms. MacKenna?" Harry asked us and I nodded at that. People did come to us for help. The police or clients, the British Government, not so much.

"Not, to date, anyone with a Navy," Sherlock told Harry as I sat up slightly, Sherlock still keeping an arm around my waist. John shifted uncomfortably beside me as I looked at Mycroft.

"I've worked the odd case or two for Mycroft, but I don't seem to see how you need us," I told Harry, throwing a pointed warning look to Mycroft. He could more than well take care of this sort of case on his own if it was anything like what I was thinking.

"This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust," Mycroft told us, finally meeting my gaze and he winced slightly. I saw his shoulders sag slightly as he sighed and I took a deep breath before letting it out and softening my gaze. I did hate fighting with Mycroft but it was necessary sometimes. He forgot that I didn't work for him and neither did Sherlock for that matter and he didn't just get to order us around.

"Highest security? You do remember who you are talking to right?" I joked, grinning slightly to lighten the mood and Mycroft gave me a thankful look. I nodded at him slightly but I still gave him a warning look to remind him to be careful what he said. I was not going to let him use us. With that being said, Mycroft and I really needed to talk.

"You don't trust your own Secret Service?" John cut in over me and I turned to him very slowly and raised my eyebrow at him, just because it was funny to watch him squirm under my gaze. I grinned at him and he frowned at me slightly as he figured out what I was doing.

"Naturally not. They all spy on people for money," Mycroft answered John who bit back a smile as we both looked back at him.

"As do a number of other people I know," I told Mycroft smirking at him slightly when he shifted a bit in his seat. Yeah, I was talking about him. He offered people to spy on Sherlock and me all the time for the right sum of money which is why Mrs. Hudson made him weekly reports.

"I do think we have a timetable," Harry suddenly reminded Mycroft who nodded as he turned to him.

"Yes, of course. Um...," Mycroft said and it was the first time I had ever heard him say um. Normally it was reserved for people who didn't know what to say. Mycroft opened his briefcase and took out a glossy photograph, handing it to Sherlock who sat forward with me as we looked at the picture of Irene Adler. "What do you know about this woman?" Mycroft as us as I narrowed my eyes at the photograph.

"Nothing whatsoever," Sherlock told him as I looked away from the photograph and up at Mycroft.

"Far more than I ever wish to," I told Mycroft, my tone coming out with a bit of a bite to it as I eyed the man. Irene Adler, this was what this was all about? I had met the woman before on a case for Mycroft and I never wanted to see her again. That told you that the meeting didn't end so well for either of us. There was a level of animosity and even hatred than ran deep between us.

"Then you should be paying more attention," Mycroft told Sherlock, ignoring me completely. "She's been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately," Mycroft told us and I nodded at him.

"Both of the political scandals I remember, one of them you sent me to consult on for you because of another matter that was of the highest security. And can I just say that's beyond sordid," I told Mycroft, commenting on Irene's recent affair. That was just one of the reasons why I didn't like Irene. I wasn't that base though. It wasn't just about what Irene did that made me dislike her.

"You know I don't concern myself with trivia. Who is she?" Sherlock asked Mycroft after he raised an eyebrow at me questioningly, wanting to know how I was involved with the previous case and the woman in question.

"Irene Adler," I answered Sherlock's question, saying her name bitterly as if it was a profanity.

"Professionally known as The Woman," Mycroft added and I raised an eyebrow at him. I didn't like where this conversation was going. We had gone after Irene Adler before. It left me very pissed off and Mycroft nowhere. Actually it left me more than pissed off.

"Professionally?" John asked Mycroft, picking up on that instantly. Good for him.

"There are many names for what she does. She prefers 'dominatrix'," Mycroft answered John and I snorted and rolled my eyes, getting the attention of everyone in the room.

"And she would," I told Mycroft as I frowned down at the photos of Irene.

"Dominatrix," Sherlock said thoughtfully and I turned to him frowning deeper. Now I really didn't like where this was going. It wasn't that I was afraid that Sherlock was suddenly going to get interested in Irene and forget about me. I was more afraid of him getting interested in Irene and then get obsessed over trying to solve her. Irene was not someone you played a game with because she would win in the end. She didn't play by the rules.

"Don't be alarmed. It's to do with sex," Mycroft said and I rolled my eyes, about ready to get up and walk out of here.

"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock told Mycroft quickly and I brought my hands up to the side of my head and rubbed my temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

"How would you know?" Mycroft asked Sherlock smiling snidely at him. Sherlock raised his head and stared at his brother before he flicked his gaze over to me and smirked slightly. Now I was feeling a little uncomfortable with our little prank. Yes, it had worked, but Sherlock and I really hadn't done anything and it just made it seem like more had happened between us then what had. "She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it," Mycroft said, continuing on after he threw a look over at me and I knew he was trying to deduce me further. Mycroft took more photographs from his briefcase and handed them over to Sherlock and me. "These are all from her website," Mycroft told us as we leafed through the photos which were all professional-looking publicity shots for her 'services' and showed Irene at her "glamorous" and "sexy" best.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs," Sherlock said as I had come to the same conclusion about this case.

"She does like her blackmail," I remarked as I flicked my gaze up to Mycroft. He should know about that. Irene had tried to find anything she could use on me, but thankfully I had people that helped me hide that information. One of them was Penny, the second was Mary, and the third was Joanie. Irene never was able to find anything on me which pissed her off to no end because she didn't have anything to use against me.

"You're very quick, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna," Harry said and I nodded at him.

"I try to be but it was rather elementary," I told Harry, shrugging my shoulders as Sherlock picked up for me.

"Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?" Sherlock asked Mycroft and Harry answered him as I watched him closely with one eyebrow slightly raised in contemplation.

"A person of significance to my employer. We'd prefer not to say any more at this time," Harry told us and Sherlock glared at him angrily as he put the photographs down on the table.

"You can't tell us anything?" John asked Mycroft raising his own eyebrow slightly. Good, glad to see I wasn't the only one with a problem about this.

"I can tell you it's a young person," Mycroft told us as John drank from his teacup. I had refused my own tea as I was not in the mood to have any right now.

"Always is Mycroft," I cut in and he threw me a look of irritation before he continued.

"A young female person," Mycroft added and John's eyes widened in shock as Sherlock smirked.

"Well then, someone is in trouble. For once it isn't me," I remarked as I smirked slightly at Mycroft who sighed and shook his head slightly at me in exasperation.

"How many photographs?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, ignoring my comment as I stood up and started pacing behind the couch that Sherlock and John were sitting on. I couldn't sit anymore. I needed to get up and move around a bit.

"A considerable number, apparently," Mycroft told us and I threw him a look shrugging at him.

"Yes, she doesn't do anything by halves Mycroft," I reminded him as I looked over at him before I turned away, screwing up my face thoughtfully as I tried to figure out some way out of this. I couldn't hack into her phone because she already knew how to keep me out of that which meant Penny or Joanie would have no luck with it either. The only way to retrieve the pictures which was obviously what Mycroft wanted was to physically retrieve her phone.

"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as I threw him a look. Obviously they did. That would be the only reason Mycroft called us in.

"Yes, they do," Mycroft told him, confirming my theory.

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios," Sherlock told Mycroft and I snorted. That would be Irene. She did never do anything by halves. This was all a plan for more blackmail. This time though Irene went further than she ever had. I didn't have to be a genius to deduce who Harry's client was.

"An imaginative range, we are assured," Mycroft told Sherlock with a sarcastic smirk. Without looking round at him, Sherlock realised just as I did when I stopped pacing and looked over at the army doctor that John was staring blankly at Mycroft with his teacup still half raised.

"John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now," Sherlock told John who quickly did as he was advised.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna?" Harry asked us and I sighed as I looked over at him. Could I help him, yes, most likely I could. Did I want to? No. I wanted to stay as far away from Irene as possible.

"How?" Sherlock asked Harry as I looked away from him. If Sherlock wanted to take this case I wouldn't be able to stop him. As much as I wanted to stay away from Irene I wasn't going to let him and John go into this case blindly. I knew what Irene was like and to a point I could help make sure she didn't try anything on them.

"Will you take the case?" Harry asked us and I looked over at him as he looked away from Sherlock and over at me. Mycroft had obviously told him that I would listen more than Sherlock would.

"What case? Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, "Know when you are beaten"," Sherlock said as he turned and reached for his overcoat which was draped over the back of the sofa with mine.

"She doesn't want anything," Mycroft told Sherlock and I paused in my pacing again as Sherlock turned back towards Mycroft.

"And she wouldn't Mycroft. Irene doesn't want anything you could give her. She has enough money and if she wanted more she could get it. She also doesn't want any favours. Irene has and always will want only want thing," I told Mycroft who looked up at me as I crossed my arms over my chest. John and Harry also turned to look at me but Sherlock merely turned his head slightly so that he could flick his eyes over to me.

"She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour," Mycroft told us, agreeing with what I had reminded him.

"Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?" Sherlock said sounding interested for the first time since we had sat down. I bit the inside of my cheek as I popped my hip to the side and raised my eyebrow slightly before sighing and turning away from him, starting up my pacing again.

"Sherlock ...," John warned him and Sherlock hummed before he turned around and reached for his coat again.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked Mycroft and I closed my eyes, knowing that that was what he was going to choose. He couldn't give up a case like this and nothing I could tell him was going to make him change his mind. This case was like a new toy. Wave it in front of a child or Sherlock in this case and he wouldn't be able to resist.

"Uh, in London currently. She's staying ...," Mycroft said as Sherlock picked up his coat, not waiting for him to finish as he stood and started to walk away. I rolled my eyes and quickly grabbed my coat, folding it over my arm.

"Text me the details. I'll be in touch by the end of the day," Sherlock told Mycroft and I winced slightly as I heard him say that he would contact Mycroft, not the both of us. The other three men got to their feet as I bit my lip.

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" Harry asked, flicking his gaze over to me as I watched Sherlock.

"No, I think I'll have the photographs," Sherlock answered him, turning his back to him and I sighed. Here we go. This is what I had been afraid of.

"One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think," Harry said as I watched Sherlock looking at him sharply, apparently indignant that he should doubt him. I could tell he was making deductions about Harry so I made my own.

Dog Lover

Public School

Horse Rider

Early Riser

Left Side of Bed

Non-Smoker

Father Half Welsh

Keen Reader

Tea Drinker

Sherlock finished his deductions at the same time that I did and he looked across to Mycroft. "We'll need some equipment, of course," Sherlock said and I sighed slightly hearing him say we for the first time. At least I wasn't being completely forgotten now that something new and shiny was being dangled in front of him.

"Anything you require. I'll have it sent to...," Mycroft said before Sherlock interrupted him.

"Can I have a box of matches?" Sherlock asked, looking at the equerry as he spoke.

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked Sherlock in confusion and I groaned slightly, not that anyone was paying me any attention.

"Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do," Sherlock said as he held out his hand expectantly.

"I don't smoke," Harry told him and I nodded. Harry no, Lizzy yes. There were some habits they didn't want people to know. When I had met her I could tell right away though. Harry said his client which had to be the Queen and he smelled of smoke, but didn't smoke himself. He had recently been in the Queen's company and was short on time for our meeting so I could only assume that she wanted a quick update about what they were doing to keep the scandal from getting out.

"No, I know you don't, but your employer does," Sherlock told him and after a pause during which John frowned in puzzlement, the equerry reached into his pocket and took out a lighter which he handed to Sherlock.

"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes," Harry told us and I snorted at that. A lot of people yes, Sherlock and I, not exactly in the dark.

"I'm not the Commonwealth," Sherlock said as he took the lighter from Harry and put it into his trouser pocket before he turned away.

"And that's as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you," John told him as Sherlock strolled out of the room. I sighed and walked over to John, moving away from my spot behind the couch.

"Laters!" Sherlock called back in an Estuary English accent as he departed, not sounding the 't' in the word.

"Alexandria. A moment please," Mycroft asked me as I moved to follow after Sherlock and he sounded rather hopeful, causing me to pause and look back over at him. John looked over at me and I shook my head at him as I took a deep breath and sighed. Mycroft and I need to talk, properly talk. We couldn't keep going on like this and dancing around each other. We had to just get it all out in the open once and for all.

"Go with Sherlock. Tell him I'll catch up with you two at Irene's house," I told John and he nodded at me, throwing an apologetic glance over his shoulder before he hurried to catch up to Sherlock. I turned back around to Mycroft who turned away from me quickly to look at Harry.

"Harry, if you wouldn't mind. I need to discuss a matter with Alexandria alone," Mycroft said as I walked over and sat back down on the couch that John and Sherlock had vacated, ignoring Mycroft completely as I passed by him. Something told me that this conversation was not going to go so well but we no longer had a choice.

"Of course," Harry told him and he nodded at me. "It was a pleasure," He told me and I nodded at him quickly as I crossed my arms over my chest and Harry looked round at Mycroft before he turned and left us alone. Mycroft sighed loudly before he sat down on the couch across from me. The distance between us was almost symbolic.

"What the hell are you thinking Mycroft?" I started icily and he had the decency to wince slightly at my tone of voice. "Irene Adler? Have you forgotten what happened the first time you sent me after her? The woman is a Dominatrix. She is used to power and getting what she wants. It's like sending your brother to defuse a loaded bomb. He hardly knows what to expect from her but I do. She's dangerous more dangerous that you could ever imagine and once you have, add another suitcase of dangerous on top of that," I reminded Mycroft as I stood up and started pacing like a caged animal as I glared at him.

"I am well aware…," Mycroft said before I cut him off shaking my head at him as I stopped and stared at him.

"Are you? Are you seriously? Because I don't think that you are. You send us out on these cases when it benefits you Mycroft but you never think of what it might do to us. This is something you should be working on yourself if you can't trust your own Secret Service. You said it yourself, this case is of the highest security. Government scandals, aren't our problem and neither is Irene. Last time I worked a case for you that involved Irene I nearly relapsed," I told Mycroft as I stared back at him and I sighed heavily. "Mycroft, Irene likes to use people. She tried to use me and when that didn't get her anywhere she tried to break me down by bring up my past. But I don't have a say anymore because now Sherlock is working this case and I can't sit out of it like I desperately want to. I never wanted to see Irene Adler again, but I can't sit and watch Sherlock and John go in there without me because they have no idea what she is like. You've forced my hand on this case," I told Mycroft before he sighed heavily.

"I apologize…," Mycroft said before I cut him off again.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything, because your apology doesn't stop the fact that I have to go and be in the same room as her very shortly. I just, I want you to remember that whatever happens on this case is your fault. Maybe not entirely, but if something happens to Sherlock I am going to blame you. You knew that if you dangled this case in front of him he would be unable to resist and you used that to your advantage. Irene is a viper. She strikes quickly and when she does she slowly poisons you until you either give in to get the antidote or you just let her kill you," I told Mycroft looking away from him.

"Alexandria, Lexi, please," Mycroft pleaded with me and I could hear the tone in his voice that I rarely ever heard. It was what made me turn to him and see his pained expression. I crossed over to him and sat next to him as he looked up at me sadly and I pulled the older man into a hug which he returned gratefully.

"My, I know that your job isn't easy. And I know that sometimes it's easier to have Sherlock and I do these cases for you, but we can't always be doing this. We can't always be putting ourselves on the line," I told Mycroft as I pulled away from him and looked at him as he looked at me sadly. I sighed heavily and put my head on his shoulder. "My, just, forget what I said. I'm sorry," I told Mycroft as he looked down at me after wrapping an arm around me as we sat back on the couch and I curled my feet up on the couch. "I was angry because I don't like Irene and I know that you know that. You wouldn't have asked me or Sherlock to get the photographs back if it wasn't really important. I'm just worried because I know what Irene is like and I just have a feeling that either Sherlock or I is going to come out of this hurt," I told Mycroft and he hugged me close to him. Mycroft could be a brother when he needed to be. Like Sherlock he was actually affectionate.

"I would never do anything that would intentionally put you or my brother into harm's way," Mycroft told me and I nodded against his shoulder where I had my head tucked under his.

"I know Croft," I said and I heard him sigh with relief when I used my more affectionate nickname for him. "What do you need me for?" I asked Mycroft as I pulled away from him, pressing an apologetic kiss to his cheek before I watched him. For once he looked almost human. He sat up straight and fixed his suit slightly as he turned a bit so he was facing me.

"First, there is a small matter I would like to discuss with you concerning some developments between yourself and my brother," Mycroft said and I instantly regretted apologising to him so quickly. He was starting to head into some dangerous waters and I scooted back from him slightly and fixed him with a dark look. "What is going on Lexi? I've told you before that a relationship with Sherlock would end badly for you," Mycroft started in and I stood up, crossing my arms over my chest as I turned my back on him.

"And I remember saying something about it being my decision, not yours," I told Mycroft as I started pacing, flicking him a look and raising my eyebrow at him. "What would be so wrong about Sherlock and I being together? Honestly Mycroft what? Is it me? Is that what this is about?" I asked him angrily, figuring that this was something about that. He had, since we met, acted like he could control everything I did. To some extent I knew it was just because he cared about me but I was tired of him sticking his nose into places where it didn't belong.

"This is not about you, this is about my brother and I know what he is like. Alexandria, use some sense," Mycroft shouted at me. "You know as well as I do that as soon as he has figured you out he will grow tired of you. It is his way, his nature. He is not what you need. Be smart about this…Mycroft said before I cut him off angrily.

"WELL MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO BE SMART!" I shouted at him, my chest heaving as I breathed heavily, seething in anger. "All my life I've done the smart thing and I have nothing to show for it. I've been pushed around, bullied, cast aside by nearly everyone I meet. I am seen as the freak and for once, one person decided that they saw something in me, that somehow they cared enough for me and that was your brother," I told Mycroft as I walked closer to him, pointing at him angrily. "You claim he doesn't feel but you hardly know him. You only see him as your younger brother. I know you still think he's going to relapse, that somehow we have no control over our own actions. I know you think the same of me. I'm not that weak Mycroft and neither is Sherlock. So yes, maybe, maybe being with Sherlock isn't the smart thing and maybe I will get hurt, but I am taking a chance on him like I know he is taking a chance on me," I told Mycroft, my voice somewhat calm now, but just as deadly.

"There are other men out there more suitable for you," Mycroft argued with me and I threw my hands in the air in aggravation.

"Like who Mycroft? Like John?" I asked him as I shook my head. "Sure, John's really nice and I love him, but like a brother. If I were to date him or someone like him we would probably date for about six months to a year. It would be nice, we would get along because we would have enough of the same interests, but they would be more invested than I would because I would get bored with them first. John is smart but I need to be challenged. Sherlock challenges me all the time. He questions my every thought, he makes me think. I need that Mycroft and there aren't many people out there that could give that to me so answer me, who? Who would be more suitable? Why not Sherlock? Why can't I just be happy for once in my life?" I asked him as I frowned and he sighed heavily.

"It's not that you cannot be happy it is that I don't want to see you get hurt," Mycroft told me and I looked away from him and sighed before looking back and walking over to him to take a seat beside him again.

"Mycroft, that isn't your decision. I know you don't want to see that happen and I know you feel like you have to warn me off him because he's your brother and you're the eldest so you think you have to manage him somehow but…this isn't your decision," I told Mycroft as I took his hand in mine and forced him to look at me. "Croft, I love you like a brother, but you need to stop this, stop thinking you can control what I do. First it was trying to get me to move out entirely and now you act as if you can control who I decide I love. I do love Sherlock as stupid as that may sound to you. But that is your opinion and I think you don't give your brother enough credit. I don't want to fight with you but I will if I have to. I always will if I have to," I told him and he sighed again before nodding. "I'm not going to apologize, not this time but we're alright," I assured him as I knew he was worried about that and he looked at me gratefully before I hugged him. Mycroft's biggest fear was being alone. He actually was afraid that someday everyone would grow tired of him and leave him, but he was so closed off and reserved because he didn't know how to act most of the time. The Holmes boys were some of the strangest people ever, but they were also the most brilliant and amazing men you could ever meet. "Now, what do you need my help with?" I asked Mycroft and he cleared his throat as he straightened up and looked at me, seemingly happy to know that we were no longer on bad terms with one another. I smiled at him to let him know that I was giving him my help freely.

"There is a project of vital importance that I require your assistance on. My brother and Dr. Watson are not to know about it," Mycroft warned me and I raised my eyebrow intrigued. Mycroft only asked for my help on certain occasions and if this was something Sherlock and John couldn't know about, it wasn't one of the typical cases he gave us like with Irene or the Bruce- Partington Plans. Project meant government project and while it had been a while since I had helped carry one out, there was always a reason why I was included in the first place.

"Continue," I told Mycroft and he nodded at me as he reached down and took a file out of his briefcase which he handed over to me. I looked down at it frowning as I read over it.

"The project is called Bond Air. You've been skirting around the edges of it for quite a while, but you contacted me about it first when you found the man who was supposed to die in a plane crash in Dusseldorf," Mycroft told me and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"So I was right, your people were behind it. And I assume some of our other clients were involved with Bond Air? The girls not allowed to see their grandfather after he died and the man claiming it wasn't his Aunt's ashes," I said as I rubbed my forehead. "And you want my help with this secret project why?" I asked Mycroft and he gestured to the file.

"The Coventry lot are working on this with us. We also have someone else working on this with us on the side lines who extended her help personally. She specifically wanted you in on the case," Mycroft told me as I looked at the list of people who knew about Bond Air.

"Joanie," I said with a little smirk. Mycroft didn't approve of the woman at all which was one reason why I liked her all the more.

Joanie, also known as Joanna Reyer to everyone else was an intelligence agent. She worked freelance and had a skill set as a cryptographer, assassin, and hacker. Joanna might be a trained killer but I knew for a fact that she had never killed anyone. She preferred to make deals with people which was why she was good at negotiations. Joanna had worked for both the CIA and the FBI. She had been the one to recommend my help to Agent Rossi of the FBI's BAU unit when they were working a case that she thought I could help on. Joanna never worked for anyone only with them. We had met each other in a pub in Dublin back when I was working cases there. We hit it off and became friends and I stayed in contact with her over the years even if she did move around a lot. I had talked more with Joanie in the last seven years than I had Mary. I hadn't seen Mary in person in the last seven years, but I had seen Joanie three different times, the last being about two years ago when she decided to check in on me. If she wanted me to work on this project it was because she knew that my skills would be needed. She had taught me my gun skills and cryptology skills along with interrogation and negotiation tactics. In other words, she passed on a lot of her CIA training to me over the last two times I had seen her since I stopped taking cases. She was the one that made me promise not to do drugs again.

"Text me what you need me to do," I told Mycroft, handing him back over the file.

"It is imperative that Sherlock and Dr. Watson do not find out about this," Mycroft told me and I nodded at him and huffed in exasperation.

"I'm not going to go about blurting out stuff about it. I'll do what I can for you. Joanie and I can work together on our end of the project," I assured Mycroft and he nodded at me as Anthea walked into the room, this time phone free.

"I'm to get you ready," Anthea told me and I nodded at her as I stood up, turning to Mycroft who also stood up.

"I promise. It'll go down without a hitch," I told Mycroft, kissing his cheek before I went to join Anthea who would get me ready to meet Irene. I saluted Mycroft before walking off with his assistant. One thing you never wanted to do was meet Irene without making an impression. I had even more of a need to look my best. If I was going to meet the beast head on it would be in my armour.

**Third Person POV**

Not long afterwards, the boys were in a taxi. Sherlock didn't seem to even notice that Lexi wasn't with him which was worrying John slightly. He had gone from never leaving her side for more than a few minutes to completely forgetting about her. Given Lexi's body language and responses to Mycroft John had a feeling that Lexi did not like this Irene Adler woman and that something had happened between them when she worked that case for Mycroft. She also looked rather uncomfortably at Sherlock every time he said I instead of we. John would be watching her carefully throughout this case. Any signs of anything and he would be going straight to Mycroft who she obviously didn't want to take the case from and right to Sherlock who John would convince to let the case go. Lexi never once complained about a case, but something about this one was personal for her and John would not stand by and watch her get hurt by anyone and that included Sherlock Holmes.

"Okay, the smoking. How did you know?" John asked the consulting detective who smiled briefly then shook his head.

"The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe," Sherlock told him and John frowned in confusion.

"Observe what?" John asked Sherlock who reached into his coat.

"The ashtray," Sherlock told him as he pulled out a glass ashtray. John laughed with delight as Sherlock tossed the ashtray into the air, caught it, and tucked it back into his coat, chuckling. They were both unaware that someone, presumably in a car driving alongside theirs, was photographing them.

Across London the photos had been sent to Irene Adler's phone. Sitting on the side of her bed, she looked through them, smiling, before she called out.

"Kate!" Irene called and Kate, her PA, came into the room. "We're going to have a visitor. I'll need a bit of time to get ready," Irene told her as she got up and walked over to her dressing table while Kate bent down to pick up a discarded stocking from the floor.

"A long time?" Kate asked her and Irene smirked slightly.

"Ages!" Irene told her. Yes, this was going to work out so nicely.

Later, when Irene was wearing a see-through negligee over her knickers and stockings, she opened the doors to her enormous walk-in wardrobe and walked inside, running her fingers along her outfits as she decided what to wear. She had to choose the perfect outfit. She had Sherlock Holmes coming to visit her and Alexandria's little handler would most likely be sending her along soon. Someone had to show that girl what a real woman was like. She was so young and the baggy sweatshirt and jeans she had been wearing last time they had met were laughable. It was time to break her for good and this time around, she had so much more to use against her.

Back at 221B, John was sitting at a table in the kitchen while Sherlock hurled clothes around his bedroom. With the door open, the noise was fairly distracting and John finally looked up from what he was reading to see what the bloody hell Sherlock was doing. Lexi still hadn't come back to the flat but she had texted John just a few minutes ago to let him know she would meet them over at Irene's place but that she might get there slightly later than them as she was dealing with an issue. John knew that she would be alright on her own for now. From the tone of her text she was calmer than she had been before which was both a good and bad thing. She was either actually calmer after she had stayed behind to talk with Mycroft or she was projecting that she was calm so as not to worry anyone.

"What are you doing?" John asked Sherlock, coming back to the moment as Sherlock threw something around his room again.

"Going into battle, John. I need the right armour," Sherlock said as he walked into view, wearing a large yellow hi-vis jacket. "No," Sherlock said as he ripped it off again.

At her house, Irene was looking at herself in a full-length mirror, turning side-on to look at the glittery dark purple cocktail dress she was wearing.

"Nah," Irene said as Kate leaned against the door jab watching her.

"Works for me," Kate told her suggestively.

"Everything works on you," Irene told her with a smirk.

While this was going on, Sherlock and John were on the move again in another taxi. Lexi had just updated John that she would be leaving the Place in the next five minutes and heading over to meet them. She told John not to wait for her and to just go in and meet with Irene and she would arrive and join them when she did. Sherlock was wearing his usual coat and scarf, apparently not putting on his armour as he suggested.

"So, what's the plan?" John asked Sherlock, not sure how he liked going into this without Lexi. It was very odd to not have her here with them for the first time since they started working cases together.

"We know her address," Sherlock answered him and John frowned in confusion.

"What, just ring her doorbell?" John scoffed as Sherlock turned to him.

"Exactly," Sherlock told him before he called out to the cab driver. "Just here, please," Sherlock told him.

"You didn't even change your clothes," John pointed out and Sherlock looked over at him.

"Then it's time to add a splash of colour," Sherlock told him vaguely and John got a feeling that he wasn't going to like what was about to happen. The boys got out of the taxi and Sherlock led John down a narrow street, pulling his scarf off as he walked. Eventually he stopped and turned around to face John.

"Are we here?" John asked Sherlock in confusion.

"Two streets away, but this'll do," Sherlock told him quickly and John frowned in confusion.

"For what?" John asked him and Sherlock gestured to his own left cheek.

"Punch me in the face," Sherlock told John, the army doctor staring back at him in disbelief.

"Punch you?" John asked, trying to confirm that he actually heard what he thought he had.

"Yes. Punch me, in the face," Sherlock said as he gestured to his left cheek again. "Didn't you hear me?" Sherlock asked John who nodded slightly.

"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking, but it's usually sub-text," John told him, thinking about how Lexi would have laughed at that and agreed with him if she had been here. He lack of response only made it more noticeable that she wasn't with them when she should be.

"Oh, for God's sakes," Sherlock said in exasperation before he punched John in the face. As John grunted in pain and reeled from the blow, Sherlock shook out his hand and then blew out a breath, bracing himself. John straightened up and immediately punched Sherlock. However, despite his anger and his left-handedness he punched him with his right hand striking him on the left cheek just as Sherlock had indicated.

"Ow!" John exclaimed as he turned away as Sherlock picked himself up. John flexed his hand painfully and examines his knuckles realizing how much force Lexi would have had to put behind her punch if she had fractured her knuckles. That girl could really throw a punch. Sherlock finally straightened up, holding his fingers to the cut on his cheek.

"Thank you. That was – that was...," Sherlock said before John punched him in the stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. Sherlock doubled over with John on his back as the army doctor jumped hi, half–strangling him. John's face was contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, and Sherlock was struggling to pull his hands off him. Part of this was also getting his frustration out on Sherlock because of what was going on with Lexi.

"Okay! I think we're done now, John," Sherlock said half-choking as he tried to get his words out.

"You wanna remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people," John said savagely.

"You were a doctor!" Sherlock managed to choke out.

"I had bad days!" John yelled back at him.

Back at Irene's house, Kate finished up Irene's makeup having painted her lips a blood red colour as she had requested. Irene had added her own splash of colour only she liked to call it her war paint.

"What are you gonna wear?" Kate asked her boss cheekily.

"My battle dress," Irene answered her and Kate smirked at her and chuckled slightly.

"Ooh! Lucky boy!" Kate said as downstairs, the intercom buzzed. It looked like the game was about to begin.

Across London in a room at Buckingham Palace, Lexi stood in front of a full length mirror with Anthea just behind her making sure her hair was in place. Lexi couldn't believe she was staring back at herself in the mirror. Last time she had went up against Irene she had done so without giving the woman a good impression of herself. This time around she was not going to lay down and take it. No, she would show Irene just exactly who Lexi MacKenna was. She had her war paint on and her battle armour and now it was time to go and face the beast.


	61. The Woman

**Hello sweeties! I'm so excited as this is one of my favourite chapters of TRS, at least of Scandal in Belgravia. This one is told mostly through Sherlock's POV. Actually, a lot of this case is told through his POV, his and John's so we are shaking things up. Now we introduce Irene to the boys and Lexi gets some kick arse moments. So far so brilliant!**

**I'm going for my spinal tap on Friday at 6:45 in the godforsaken morning. Thankfully they are putting me out for it so hats off to them. Probably not going to want to be up and about for a few days so I'll be writing the second chapter of Their Last Vow this weekend. See you all here back on Saturday! **

**XOXO Mels**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifty Nine- The Woman<strong>

**Kate's POV **

Across London, Lexi was getting into the back of one of Mycroft's black limos that would bring her to Irene Adler's house. This time around Mycroft Holmes was not taking any chances when it came to Lexi and Irene. While this was happening, Kate went downstairs to answer the doorbell, already knowing who was coming to visit her boss, but deciding to play along with him as Irene wanted. She activated the intercom, looking at the camera footage from the front door.

"Hello?" Kate asked into the intercom and she watched in amusement as Sherlock stared into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. When he spoke it was in an anxious, tearful, posh voice and he kept looking around behind him as he talked. Very nicely done, Kate was very nearly convinced.

"Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I've just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?" Sherlock stammered out sounding like a complete idiot and Kate had to hold back her laughter while listening to him. This was going to be too fun to watch.

"I can phone the police if you want," Kate suggested, keeping her done light and sounding concerned. He really needed to learn how to act better at least the girl they had sent before to see Irene was actually believable. She had managed to fool Kate.

"Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?" Sherlock asked her tearfully before he took a step back and Kate got to see that his shirt was buttoned right up to the top and there was a piece of white plastic under the collar which made him look like he was wearing the 'dog collar' of a vicar. "Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much," Sherlock said as he held a handkerchief to his cheek and he started to grizzle pathetically. Kate shut of the intercom for a second and took a deep breath as she quieted down her laughter before she buzzed him in. Sherlock stepped inside followed by his assistant who was named John if Kate remembered correctly. Hmm, the little Irish girl wasn't with them. Shame, Kate thought with smugness. Apparently she didn't want to play with Irene again after the last time she had lost. "Thank you," Sherlock said as he briefly looked around the large entrance hall. "Er, ooh!"

"I – I saw it all happen. It's okay, I'm a doctor," John said as he closed the door and Kate nodded at him, playing along. If anything this was rather amusing for her. "Now, have you got a first aid kit?" John asked her and Kate nodded again.

"In the kitchen," Kate told John before she gestured for Sherlock to go into the front room. "Please," She told him, acting all sympathetic. If anyone could act it was her.

"Oh! Thank you!" Sherlock told her and she gave him a "reassuring" smile in return.

"Thank you," John said as he followed Kate towards the kitchen. After she showed him where the first aid kit was and "phoned" the police as she directed John to what he needed she texted Irene to let her know that Sherlock was waiting for her in the front room. Hmm, Irene was going to have so much fun with him. Kate smiled mischievously before helping John out. Yes, this was going to be almost as fun as last time.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock walked into the front room he was directed to and took off his coat before taking a seat on the sofa in the elegant sitting room. He looked around the room his hand fidgeting nervously at his side. While he was making it seem like he was perfectly okay with Lexi not being there, inside he was worrying about her. John said Mycroft had asked to speak with her alone. Sherlock didn't like that. Mycroft had no reason to talk to her alone. He would have stayed behind to wait for her, but he didn't want John to think that he couldn't do something without her or for Lexi to think he was clingy so he had left as she had suggested. He stalled at Baker Street hoping Lexi would catch up with them there rather than at Irene's but she had just texted John to let them know she would meet them at Irene's soon. It hurt a bit that she texted John rather than him. He would talk to her later, make sure everything was alright between them. He thought it was, but she had been agitated back at the Palace when they were talking to Mycroft. She also seemed to know who Irene Adler was and did not seem to like her. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Sherlock quickly sat up a little and held his handkerchief to his cheek which still smelt like Lexi as he had sprayed a bit of her perfume on it though he would never admit that he had. Lexi wore a light perfume on occasion which had fruity and floral scent to it. He had come to notice that she seemed to gravitate more to those two type of scents, keeping for lighter fragrances that didn't overwhelm the senses. He didn't wear anything for that reason and John's cheap and foul smelling cologne was enough of a deterrent if he ever got any ideas about wearing any type of artificial scent himself. He did however notice that Lexi often buried her face in his neck however which was a tell-tale sign that she found his natural scent appealing. He was sure that there had been some study done on it about how that related to how you were physically and sexually attracted to the person of your held desires He would have to do some research on it.

"Hello. Sorry to hear that you've been hurt. I don't think Kate caught your name," A woman told him as she walked into the room, catching Sherlock's attention.

"I'm so sorry. I'm...," Sherlock began as he turned and looked at Irene as she walked into view and stopped at the doorway. His voice failed him when he realised that, with the exception of high-heeled shoes, she was stark naked. His jaw dropped a little, not because of her nudity, but because of the thought that went through his head when he had first seen her. For a moment he had thought she was Lexi until he realized it was Irene as he had been expecting her to get here soon. When he registered that she was naked he was surprised that his first thought had gone to it being Lexi naked. Why she would be naked in a situation like this, Sherlock couldn't guess, but that his mind had first jumped to that was a little startling for the consulting detective who swallowed thickly.

"Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright, isn't it?" Irene asked him as she walked into the room and stood directly in front of him, straddling his legs and half-kneeling on the sofa before she reached forward and pulled the white dog collar from his shirt collar. Sherlock looked up at her face not even feeling a want to look any lower. The only woman who ever had interested him in that way was Lexi though he hated to admit that he felt such cavemen base needs around her which was why he was taking things slowly with her and keeping their kisses chaste. He didn't want to push her further than she might be ready for or frighten her off by being too exuberant. He also didn't want to be too forward with her or miss read something…it was all messy which was why he didn't do relationships in the first place, they were too complicated. He understood that like him she had never had a relationship before and he was not going to mess things up with her, though that was a fear of his. That he wouldn't be enough for her or she would come to her senses and realize she could find someone better than him or that even he might do something to mess things up like he always seemed to do. "There now – we're both defrocked…," Irene said, drawing Sherlock out of his thoughts about Lexi as she smiled down at him. "... Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"Miss Adler, I presume," Sherlock said, dropping the persona he had put on and talking to her in his normal voice. He could see why Lexi didn't seem to like her already. There was just something about her, even if he couldn't place exactly what yet.

"Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?" Irene asked him as she gazed down at his face, narrowing her eyes as she lifted the white plastic to her mouth and bit down on it. Sherlock stared up at her in confusion not understanding what exactly she would like to try. Nothing ever made sense with other women that weren't Lexi. He could always understand what Lexi meant even when she was joking or being sarcastic. He could understand Lexi. That was the difference between her and Irene. John walked into the room just then carrying a bowl of water and a fabric napkin and Sherlock looked at him briefly out of the corner of his eye and saw that he had his eyes lowered to the bowl to avoid spilling its contents. Ah John! John would know what to do. John would fix this and get this infernal woman off of him.

"Right, this should do it," John said before he stopped dead in the doorway as he lifted his eyes and saw the scene in front of him. Irene looked round to him, the dog collar still in her teeth. John looked at her awkwardly, then down at the bowl before looking up again, a slight frown on his face. "I've missed something, haven't I?" John asked as Irene took the collar from her teeth.

"Please, sit down," Irene told him as she stepped back from Sherlock, who fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa as she walked away. He was glad that she finally had. He didn't like her being that close to him. She wasn't Lexi. Now Lexi he liked having close to him, in fact he rather wished she was there right now. He found that he liked to cuddle with Lexi and she let him which made him happy. "Oh, if you'd like some tea I can call the maid," Irene said drawing Sherlock's thoughts away from his Irish detective again which irritated him slightly.

"I had some at the Palace," Sherlock told her just a bit snappishly in his irritation.

"I know," Irene told him as she sat down in a nearby armchair and crossed her legs, folding her arms gracefully to obscure the view of her chest. Not that this really preserved any of her modesty. It was very easy to see what Lexi's problem had been with her.

"Clearly," Sherlock quipped back and he and Irene stared silently at each other for several seconds, weighing each other up. This was not like the looks that Sherlock and Lexi shared, this was completely predatory as they sized each other up. John looked at them awkwardly as he stood in the doorway.

"I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone's interested," John told them and Sherlock's eyes remained fixed on Irene as he tried to make up any deduction he could about her. He came up with nothing, nothing at all. It was absolutely blank. He would never admit it but that was exactly what he had seen with Lexi when he first met her. He could only make small guesses about her after studying her closely and talking with her but all of his deductions about her had only been logical guesses. He could read her and he couldn't read Irene either. Bewildered, he turned and looked at John and started to analyse him.

From the appearance of his neckline he was wearing a two day old shirt. Looking at his lower face next he could tell that John had shave with an electric razor and not a blade. Judging the bottom of his jeans and his shoes next he had a date tonight. John frowned as Sherlock continued to gaze at him, deducing him. From John's right eyebrow Sherlock could tell that he hadn't phone his sister. Harriet had called him recently and John didn't answer. Lexi was trying to convince him to call her back and try to work things out with her. Moving on to John's lower lip Sherlock deduced that he was using a new toothbrush and the slight bags underneath his eyes told him he had spent the previous night out with Stamford. Odd that, he would have expected Lexi to go out with John. She was friends with Stamford too and enjoyed the occasional visit to the pub. No wait, John had asked her if she wanted to come and she told him she was just going to stay in. She did stay at the flat and made him a pasta dish that reminded him of one his mother used to make that he was fond of and then they had wine and ate a cake she had baked while watching a documentary on forensic science together on the couch. It had been nice, a perfect night in, a date. Lexi fell asleep after the documentary when Sherlock was reading to her and the consulting detective had brought her to bed before he went out to wait for John to come back in as he played his violin to keep Lexi asleep. Relieved that he hadn't had a brain embolism, Sherlock stopped thinking of Lexi which was difficult to do and slowly turned his head and looked at Irene again. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he applied all his deductive reasoning and she smiled confidently back at him as he quickly comes to the conclusion that he couldn't deduce a single thing about her. Sherlock frowned not liking that at all. With Lexi it was alright because he got to learn things about her instead of knowing them but Irene made him uncomfortable and he would rather know more about her.

"D'you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?" Irene asked him, breaking the silence and Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at her, not really wanting to answer her. "However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait."

"You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?" Sherlock scoffed and Irene shook her head and smirked at him slightly.

"No, I think you're damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it's yourself," Irene told him and Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes at her in irritation.

"Hardly," He told Irene who just smirked at him again and fixed him with a gaze that made him even more uncomfortable. Feeling his throat tighten slightly he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, hoping that Lexi wouldn't be too much longer. Irene leaned forward towards him which made that thick feeling in his throat tighten.

"Oh, and somebody loves you. Why, if I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth too," Irene said as she glanced across to John momentarily. John forced a laugh and Sherlock could tell that his army doctor was also not comfortable with the situation. He kept shooting looks between Sherlock and Irene before resting on Sherlock.

"Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all," John said as he looked down at what he was holding. "A napkin," John suggested and Irene smirked at him.

"Why? Are you feeling exposed?" Irene asked him in amusement.

"I don't think John knows where to look," Sherlock said as he stood up and picked up his coat, shaking it out before he held it out to Irene. She ignored him for a moment before she stood up and walked closer to John, who rolled his head on his neck uncomfortably and forced himself to maintain eye contact with her and not let his eyes wander lower.

"No, I think he knows exactly where," Irene said as she turned to Sherlock who was still holding out the coat while steadfastly keeping his gaze averted. "I'm not sure about you," Irene said as she took the coat from him. She frowned slightly as if she was expecting him to want to look at her. If that was what she expected she could have never met Lexi.

"If I wanted to look at naked women I'd borrow John's laptop," Sherlock scoffed and John looked over at him. Sherlock actually had no want to look at naked women at all, at least any naked woman that wasn't Lexi. Lexi…well he wouldn't go there, he really didn't need to be thinking of that now.

"You do borrow my laptop," John told him and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to him

"I confiscate it," Sherlock shot back as he walked over to the fireplace opposite the sofa as Irene put Sherlock's coat on and wrapped it around her.

"And then you have to ask me for the password," A voice said behind John, a voice that had a thick Irish brogue to it and Sherlock turned to the doorway as John moved aside to let Lexi in, his mouth dropping and opening and closing like a goldfish as he saw Lexi who was looking at Irene and not at him.

Sherlock's mouth went dry and he froze as he finally saw Lexi, his face instantly flushing in arousal. It wasn't his Lexi but it was. She was wearing a golden dress that stop midway down her thigh and had long off the shoulder sleeves that showcased her tattoos. The neckline plunged down deeply exposing a fair amount of cleavage that had Sherlock thinking some rather inappropriate things and exposed a slight tendril from her new rose tattoo that came up between her breasts. Her hair was half up in a beautiful up do with the back layer down so that it fell down her shoulders. She was wearing the dress with a pair of very high deep blue heels and her makeup was all done up with a smoky eye, bright red lips and a bit of blush over her cheeks. Her dark eyeliner drew his attention to her eyes, her lashes looking longer as they framed her very bright hazel eyes. He had never seen her wear something that showed off so much skin and while he wouldn't lie and say that some primal part of him didn't like it, the rational part of him told him that this couldn't be his Lexi. She was beautiful, well she was always beautiful but this was something else. She was also sexy and something in her little smile told him slightly dangerous. If he was meeting her for the first time he would have felt slightly intimidated, more so than when he met Irene. Lexi breathed confidence and her knowing smirk told him she knew exactly what she was doing. This was why she hadn't joined them right away. She needed to get ready to meet Irene because she knew what Irene would do and she needed to show Irene that she could do it too. It was a basic primal emotion when two women sized each other up.

"Irene," Lexi said ignoring him and John as she looked across to the other woman and Sherlock saw something flash in her eyes as she looked her over. Her eyebrow twitched slightly as if she was trying to raise it and Sherlock realized that she had just deduced something about the woman. Her tone was light and calm, not containing any of the bite that Sherlock would have expected.

"Alexandria," Irene said before smirking at her as Lexi walked further into the room and turned to Irene more, turning her back to John whose eyebrows shot up to his hairline as his eyes widened in surprise. Why? Why did he look so surprised? Sherlock realized that there was a slight outline of something under Lexi's dress around her leg but he couldn't tell what it was exactly. "Or is it Lexi now?" Irene asked, snapping Sherlock out of his thoughts.

"It's Alexandria to you," Lexi told Irene and while her voice still had that light tone to it there was a dark undertone to it that was meant as a warning.

"Oh, touchy are we?" Irene asked her and Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly at Irene.

"Hardly. Are you losing your touch at reading people?" Lexi shot back and Sherlock couldn't help but smirk slightly at that. She wasn't letting Irene walk all over her but Sherlock also didn't like this Lexi. He could see that her shoulders were very tense and that underneath her calm demeanour she was uncomfortable with the situation. He saw her flick her gaze around the room, landing on him for a brief moment before she looked away.

"Getting better in fact," Irene told her with a smirk before she continued. "Well, never mind. We've got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know," Irene said as she walked over to the sofa and sat down before looking at Sherlock. "How was it done?" She asked him, flicking her gaze over to Lexi and narrowing her eyes slightly.

"What?" Sherlock asked her having not understood her as he was staring at Lexi, letting himself look at her for a long moment.

"The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?" Irene asked them as she took off her heels and the boys looked at her in confusion as Lexi laughed slightly. Only Sherlock could tell that it was forced. Her laugh normally sounded more carefree and light hearted.

"That's not why we're here," Sherlock told her, flicking his gaze over to Lexi who met his gaze for a moment before she looked away from him. Not good, very not good. Something was wrong unless she was more focused on Irene.

"No, no, no, you're here for the photographs but that's never gonna happen, and since we're here just chatting anyway...," Irene said before John interrupted her.

"That story's not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?" John asked her and Irene smirked at him knowingly.

"I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes," Irene said as she flicked her gaze over to Lexi who raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Of course you do," Lexi told Irene who turned to her and her smirk grew wider.

"Jealous?" Irene asked Lexi as she raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow slightly.

"Oh, very," Lexi told her sarcastically as John moved in to defuse the situation.

"Oh," John said as he sat down beside Irene after walking around Lexi who backed up slightly towards the door, her back still facing away from Sherlock who was very curious now as to what John had seen. "And you like policemen?" John asked Irene and Lexi's eyebrow raised very high as Sherlock saw her give John a look. There was his Lexi.

"I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy's the new sexy," Irene said and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes exactly like she always did which was a relief for Sherlock to see.

"It's always been sexy actually. It's why I'm attracted to a man with a brain," Lexi said, flicking her gaze over to Sherlock as she walked across the room to the chair that Irene had vacated. Sherlock got a very good look at her back and just caught his jaw before it dropped. The back of her dress was cut out, exposing a lot of the skin of her back along with revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra. The dress looked even shorter on her back and it accentuated her curves in such a way that it left nothing to the imagination. Was she trying to break down his will power? Sherlock was very…attracted to Lexi and certainly in that way even if he wasn't ready for that yet. His mouth felt like a desert as he let his eyes roam slightly until she sat down and crossed her legs at the ankle, her hands on each of the arm rests as she sat up straight.

"Positionofthecar...," Sherlock said incoherently and everyone turned to stare at him as he swallowed thickly his gaze locked with Lexi's now which made it even worse. He quickly pulled himself together completely shocked with himself that he was letting his emotions take over him. He was above all those base desires except it seemed when it came to Lexi. She was the exception to everything he had ever thought. "Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That's all you need to know," Sherlock said, speaking more slowly this time around as Lexi smirked slightly at him looking at him as if she knew what he had been thinking.

"Okay, tell me, how was he murdered?" Irene asked them and Sherlock looked away from Lexi and over at Irene.

"He wasn't," Sherlock told her and Irene frowned slightly.

"You don't think it was murder?" Irene asked him thoughtfully.

"We know it wasn't," Sherlock told her flicking his gaze over to Lexi again as she sat watching him and Irene and not meeting John's gaze.

"How?" Irene asked him looking over at Lexi, the look in her eyes turning from amused to snarky in one second.

"The same way that we know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs we're looking for are in this room," Sherlock told her as he looked at Lexi who nodded at slightly to let him know that she understood where this was going and was ready.

"Okay, but how?" Irene asked him in confusion and Sherlock smirked slightly at her.

"So they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no-one in," Sherlock told John, giving the army doctor a significant look before John got up and put the bowl and napkin on a table before leaving the room. Sherlock looked over to Lexi next. "Lexi, could you…," Sherlock said as Lexi got up, flicking her leg out slightly as she got up her curls bouncing around her.

"On it," She told him as she walked over to the door, a bit of a sway in her hips as she walked, Sherlock could have sworn she did it on purpose, before she looked back at him and raised her eyebrow slightly before flicking her gaze to Irene. _'Be careful. She's cunning and she'll try to confuse you,' Lexi _told him, finally speaking to him for the first time in their silent method.

_'Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go help John,_' Sherlock told her with a slight nod and she nodded slightly before popping out of the room, closing the door behind her. Now, he just had to find the phone and get it to Mycroft before he could go back to the flat and make sure that Lexi was alright. By the end of the day this case would be done and possibly he could convince Lexi to go out to Angelo's with him in that dress.

**Lexi's POV**

I walked out into the hallway with John who was looking around before he picked up a magazine from a nearby table and rolled it up before he looked back at me and I sighed and shook my head smiling at him as he started laughing. I dropped the expression I had kept up in front of Irene and snorted slightly as I rolled my eyes at the army doctor.

"His face when you walked in," John said and I walked over to him and smacked him in the arm with the rolled up magazine which I had taken from him.

"Don't laugh Watson," I warned him, giving him a hard look and he shook his head quickly.

"I wasn't laughing," He told me as I raised my eyebrow at him. "So where did you get that dress?' John asked me casually and I sighed at him and rolled my eyes. Men. They were one track minded it seemed.

"Anthea. She did this," I told John as I gestured to myself. "It was her idea but also mine," I told John as I bent over and pulled the gun I had hidden on my thigh out from under my dress. When I straightened up I saw John's eyes bugging out of his face.

"Where were you hiding that?" John asked me and I laughed slightly at him.

"You don't want to know," I told him, smirking slightly as I winked at him, lightening the mood. Now that I was away from Irene I felt slightly less tense but I still was not happy especially when I walked in to find her wearing Sherlock's coat. That told me that she had tried to use her body to distract him, to interest him. The thing she didn't realize though was that while that might work on John, it wouldn't on Sherlock. He didn't even seem too affected by me when I had walked into the room. I hadn't expected him to be. I had only dressed up this way because the last time I met Irene I had been wearing jeans and an oversized jumper and this time around I wanted to show her I was more confident than the girl she thought she could break a year ago. "Come on let's get this done," I told John as I handed him back his magazine and I held my gun up. You never knew when something could go wrong and I came prepared. This time around I wasn't going to let Irene get to me…oh how wrong I was.

**Sherlock's POV**

Irene sat up straighter, looking suspiciously at the closed door as soon as John and Lexi had left them, but she smirked slightly as soon as Lexi left the room. That told Sherlock all he needed to know about what had happened before between the two women. He started to pace again as he focused on the matter at hand rather than on Lexi.

"Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car," Sherlock said and Irene looked at him in slightly surprise.

"Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now," Irene said and Sherlock inwardly grinned at her little stutter. She was nervous and on edge and yes, that made her dangerous, but if the bit of metal Sherlock had gotten a glimpse of as Lexi left the room was any indication, Lexi was ready for any situation they might run into. Not that he had been looking there that is.

"No, no. Looking takes ages. I'm just going to find them but you're moderately clever, not nearly as clever as Lexi is, but we've got a moment, so let's pass the time," Sherlock told her as he stopped pacing and turned to her. "Two men, a car, and nobody else," Sherlock told her as he squatted down and suddenly it was as if he was at the crime scene, squatting down next to the driver's door of Phil's car as he entered the crime scene in his Mind Palace. Inside as if frozen in time, Phil's face was screwed up with rage while his hands were raised, about to slam down angrily onto the steering wheel. "The driver's trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere," Sherlock continued as he straightened up and turned and looked into the field. "And the hiker's taking a moment, looking at the sky," Sherlock said as he was now down in the field walking around the hiker. "Watching the birds?" Sherlock asked as he looked up doubtfully. "Any moment now, something's gonna happen. What?" Sherlock asked Irene as nearby she had appeared in the field near the hiker on her sofa.

"The hiker's going to die," Irene said and Sherlock looked over at her and shook his head slightly. And he had so hoped that she was slightly smarter than Anderson and the rest of Scotland Yard.

"No, that's the result. What's going to happen?" Sherlock asked Irene again slightly exasperated.

"I don't understand," Irene said and Sherlock sighed slightly. Dear God what was it like in their brains? It was simple, elementary as Lexi said often.

"Oh, well, try to. Lexi's figured it out already and she agreed with me that the answer was rather transparent," Sherlock said and he didn't like the way Irene's eyes flashed dangerously as soon as he mentioned Lexi.

"Why?" Irene asked him, acting like he had never even mentioned Lexi.

"Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Now, stop boring me and think," Sherlock told her scoffing a little bit. "It's the new sexy," Sherlock added sarcastically remembering what Lexi said about being attracted to a man with a brain as she had pointedly looked over at him.

"The car's going to backfire," Irene told him and Sherlock could tell that she was now trying to impress him.

"There's going to be a loud noise," Sherlock told her nodding slightly in agreement.

"So, what?" Irene asked him, raising her eyebrow slightly. In Sherlock's opinion, Lexi did that look better than Irene ever could.

"Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance...," Sherlock said as he paused dramatically as he saw them in the sitting room again. A second later a smoke alarm started to beep insistently from the hall. Irene turned quickly and looked at the large mirror over the fireplace. Sherlock turned his head and followed her gaze. "Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities," Sherlock told Irene as he walked over to the fireplace and began running his fingers underneath the mantelpiece. Finding a switch under there, he pressed it and the mirror slid upwards, revealing a small wall safe behind it. Sherlock turned and looked at Irene as she stood up. "Really hope you don't have a baby in here," Sherlock told her before he turned back to the door. "All right, John, Lexi, you can turn it off now," Sherlock called to them before looking smugly back at Irene. Oh yes, this was perfect.

**Third Person POV**

Out in the hall, John was still trying to put out the smouldering magazine as Lexi moved around the corner, looking for Kate who wasn't coming to see why the fire alarm was coming off. She found this highly suspicious and therefore was on guard. She got a feeling like something was about to happen.

"I said you can turn it off now," Sherlock shouted loudly from the room again and John looked toward it.

"Give me a minute," He said as he started thwacking the end of the magazine on the table, grimacing when sparks flew up from the paper, but then he looked round as three men ran down the stairs. The first one raised an enormous pistol, the silencer of which was so long that he must be compensating for some other shortcoming, and fired it up at the smoke alarm, shattering it. The beeping stopped and one of the other men hurried towards John, aiming his pistol at him and John instantly raises his hands, looking at the first man as he walked over and stopped in front of him. "Thank you," John told him, just as Lexi appeared around the corner, her gun pointed at the man in front of John and all the guns suddenly where on Lexi rather than on John.

"Ms. MacKenna, drop your gun and kick it over here if you would," The man in front of John said as Lexi cocked her gun. The man had an American accent and Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly at him.

"Neilson, are we really going to play this game again?" Lexi asked the man, surprising John. She knew who he was?

"I'm going to give you three seconds to drop your gun or I'll shoot Dr. Watson," The man, Neilson told Lexi and she raised her hands above her head before she squatted down and set her gun on the floor to preserve her modesty, kicking it away from her with her heeled foot. The two other men moved around John and stood beside her each taking an arm and pointing their guns at her as Neilson grabbed John by his upper arm and kept his gun trained on him. Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly and smirked and the men next to her tightened their hands on their guns slightly. It was almost as if they thought she was more dangerous than he was, but that was ridiculous, or was it? After everything John had seen Lexi do so far, he still didn't know that much about how she did what she did. She was rather skilled at shooting and fighting or at least it seemed that way with how she had shot the Golem and how she had fought off the assassins. Where would she learn something like that and why did Neilson look so nervous when he saw her?

**Sherlock's POV**

In the sitting room Sherlock was looking closely at the number pad on the front of the safe having not heard anything suspicious as the fire alarm finally cut off. "Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know. Heaviest oil deposit's always on the first key used – that's quite clearly the three – but after that the sequence is almost impossible to read. I'd say from the make that it's a six digit code. Can't be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the eight's barely used, so...," Sherlock said before Irene cut him off.

"I'd tell you the code right now but you know what? I already have," Irene told him and Sherlock frowned at her. Had she, when? When had she told him what the code was? He couldn't have been that distracted by Lexi. "Think," Irene told him and the door suddenly burst open and a man walked in bundling John along with him as he aimed his pistol at Sherlock.

"Hands behind your head," The man told Irene. "On the floor. Keep it still," The man ordered her as two other men walked in with Lexi in between them. One of the men made sure that the other guy had Lexi tightly in his grip before he walked over to Irene and the third man forced Lexi forward as she raised her eyebrow and looked over at Sherlock.

"Eyes front," She told the man holding her whose gaze had wandered lower than he needed to.

"Sorry, Sherlock," John said as Sherlock raised his hands, looking over at Lexi who looked like she was ready to start something. The first man looked round at Lexi for a second and Sherlock noted that they seemed to know each other. He was also watching her closely as if he was waiting for her to do something.

"You're lucky John was here. I wouldn't have dropped my gun otherwise," Lexi warned the man before shaking her head. "I don't mess around Neilson," Lexi told him as he rolled his eyes at her. So he did know the man? How? He was obviously a CIA trained killer. Not that it should surprise him that she came in contact with those sort of people. Her friend Garcia was apparently not entirely law conscious given her choice of working for the BAU after hacking into some high security places.

"Ms. Adler, on the floor," The man, Neilson apparently, ordered as his colleague shoved her to her knees beside John who had also been pushed to his knees and was doubled over with his hands behind his head and a pistol pointed to the back of his neck. Lexi was kept standing with a gun pointed at her head in case she made any move to get way. It was like they were all waiting for her to do something.

"Don't you want Lexi and me on the floor too?" Sherlock asked Neilson sarcastically.

"No, sir, I want you to open the safe and I would like to keep Ms. MacKenna exactly where she is," Neilson told him and Lexi smirked slightly as she looked at him from the corners of her eyes instead of turning her head to look at him.

"You are starting to learn," Lexi remarked as Sherlock clocked his accent.

"American. Interesting. Why would you care?" Sherlock asked Neilson as he glanced across at Irene as she put her hands behind her head. Given Lexi's attitude, she knew the man but didn't like him. She also remarked that he was learning, but learning what. He was keeping her standing. If her track recorded with assassins was any indication and how she had been able to fire a gun, she had more training than just self-defence.

"Sir, the safe, now, please," Neilson told him, ignoring his comment as Lexi sighed slightly.

"I don't know the code," Sherlock told Neilson quickly. This was one of those situations that Lexi called very bad. One wrong move and one of them could get shot.

"We've been listening. She said she told you," Neilson told him and Sherlock realized that they had had bugs on Irene for a while. They wanted the phone too. That told him that she had more than just some scandalous photographs on it.

"Well, if you'd been listening, you'd know she didn't," Sherlock told him, not liking where this was going.

"I'm assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I'm assuming you didn't, Mr Holmes," Neilson said as the man holding Lexi tightened his hand slightly around his gone when she shifted slightly.

"For God's sake! She's the one who knows the code. Ask her!" John told Neilson who turned to look down at him.

"Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I've learned not to trust this woman," Neilson said while Lexi muttered something along the lines of, "First smart thing you've done so far."

"Mr Holmes doesn't ...," Irene started before Neilson cut her off.

"Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship," Neilson told her as Lexi looked slightly amused by this. Sherlock glared at Neilson ferociously, not liking a man who could kill someone without even a second thought. He was a trained killer and he didn't like him in the same room as Lexi. "Mr Archer. At the count of three, shoot Doctor Watson. Mr. Prentiss, do the same to Ms. MacKenna," Neilson ordered and Sherlock saw Lexi's hand twitch slightly. She was deducing and calculating something.

"What?" John asked in surprise and horror.

"I don't have the code," Sherlock told Neilson quickly as John cowered down when Archer pressed the muzzle of his pistol into the back of his neck and cocked the gun. Lexi winced as Prentiss pressed the muzzle of his own gun further into Lexi's temple before he also cocked his gun. Lexi's hand twitched again as her lips moved slightly, barely noticeable to anyone else.

"One," Neilson counted.

"I don't know the code," Sherlock told him emphatically, pleading with him slightly now.

"Two," Neilson counted down.

"She didn't tell me," Sherlock told him, trying to get through to him. "I don't know it!" Sherlock shouted at him slightly, panicking because any second now John and Lexi were going to get shot.

"I'm prepared to believe you any second now," Neilson told him as Sherlock looked across to Irene who lowered her gaze pointedly downwards. Sherlock looked next over to Lexi who had her eyes closed her lips moving faster as her hand twitched again. "Three," Neilson said as Lexi's eyes snapped over quickly.

"Enough!" Lexi shouted and Neilson held up his free hand to stop Archer and Prentiss. John closed his eyes as Sherlock looked over at Lexi in surprise. "I know the bloody code," Lexi told Neilson her accent thick.

"Then you will open it Ms. MacKenna," Neilson told her gesturing for Prentiss to let her go which he did before he moved to stand behind Irene and guard her. "One wrong move, just one," Neilson told her and Lexi turned back to him.

"Then you'll shoot John and Sherlock. Yes, I know at least be original Neilson," Lexi said, rolling her eyes as she walked forward. As she passed by Sherlock she nodded at him slightly as the consulting detective's mind worked frantically as he tried to figure out the code like she had. That was what she was deducing and calculating. Lexi walked over to the safe and Neilson watched her closely as she slowly reached out a finger towards the keypad and punched the numbers 32, 24, and 34. Irene's measurements, it was that simple. The safe beeped and noisily unlocked as Irene frowned behind Lexi. Sherlock sighed in relief and closed his eyes briefly as John sagged lower on his knees and shut his own eyes again.

"Thank you, Ms. MacKenna. Open it, please," Neilson directed Lexi who looked back at him and pursed her lips before she twisted the button that would open the door. She looked across to Irene who lowered her gaze to the floor and made a tiny jerk with her head. She turned back to the safe and then flicked her gaze over to Sherlock.

"Vatican cameos," Lexi said while she was looking right at Sherlock. Instantly John threw himself to the floor as Sherlock did the same while at the same moment Lexi pulled open the door of the safe while ducking down below the fireplace. Inside the safe, a tripwire attached to the door tugged on the trigger of a pistol with an equally long and over-compensatory silencer which was aimed straight out of the safe. The gun fired and Archer, who happened to be standing directly in front of it, was shot in the chest. Sherlock sprang up and grabbed on Neilson's pistol and Irene spun around on her knees and savagely elbowed Prentiss in the groin. Pulling the pistol from Neilson's grip, Sherlock held the silencer end and smashed the butt across his face and Neilson dropped to the floor unconscious. As Prentiss crumpled under her blow, she grappled for his pistol and was on her feet and aiming it down at him while he was still falling. Sherlock turned to her quickly.

"D'you mind?" Sherlock asked her, not seeing what Lexi was doing just behind him. She had used Sherlock and Irene's distraction to reach into the safe and take something out of it.

"Not at all," Irene told him and suddenly a shoe came flying through the air and hit the man right in the forehead with enough force to knock him unconscious. Everyone looked back at her and saw the Lexi was holding her other heel in her right hand.

"And there is more of that if you need it," Lexi remarked as she chucked her other shoe onto the floor. Nearby, John had checked Archer over before standing up.

"He's dead," John remarked as Irene aimed her pistol down at her guard.

"No shit," Lexi told John as she squatted down beside Archer's body and took her gun back from him before handing it to John. "Here, take it," She told John as she gave it to him.

"Thank you Alexandria. You were very observant," Irene said as she looked across at Lexi who shrugged her shoulders and straightened up.

"Well it's easy to read you. I knew what you would pick," Lexi remarked as John looked at both women in confusion. Lexi looked more like Lexi right now. Barefooted and standing in a defensive stance as her hair had fallen out slightly from its pins. She reached up just then and took the rest of the out so her hair cascaded down around her.

"Observant?" John asked Irene who nodded with a slight smirk.

"I think I'm flattered," Irene told Lexi who rolled her eyes at the woman. "I was beginning to think that you didn't care."

"Don't be. I was only saving Sherlock and John, not you," Lexi shot back coldly and Irene raised her eyebrow slightly and smirked at her.

"Flattered?" John asked, not understanding what Irene and Lexi were talking about at all.

"There'll be more of them. They'll be keeping an eye on the building," Sherlock told them, holding Neilson pistol still which he had removed the silencer from. He hurried out of the room and John tucked Lexi's gun into the back of his jeans before he and Lexi followed him. Sherlock trotted out onto the street with John and Lexi behind him.

"We should call the police," John told Sherlock as Lexi walked completely silently next to him.

"Yes," Sherlock said as he pointed the pistol into the air and fired it five times. Nearby, tires screeched as they came to a halt. "On their way," Sherlock told him as Lexi shook her head before she turned with Sherlock and trotted back into the house with him.

"For God's sake!" John said in exasperation as Lexi looked back at him.

"Oh shut up. It's quick," Sherlock said as Lexi nodded in agreement.

"And highly effective," Lexi added as they walked back into the sitting room. Irene turned around from the safe to face them.

"Check the rest of the house. See how they got in," Sherlock told John who headed off as Lexi reached down and pulled something out from under her dress which she handed to Sherlock. Once he got over the fact that she had hidden something on a hidden thigh strap which is where her gun came from, Sherlock realized that she had handed him Irene's phone. He flipped the phone nonchalantly into the air before catching it again. "Well, that's the knighthood in the bag. Look, you finally get to be a Dame," Sherlock told Lexi smirking at her as she smiled for the first time, the smile completely genuine.

"Ah. And that's mine," Irene said as she held out her hand. Ignoring her, Sherlock switched on the security lock on her phone. It required four letters or numbers to activate it and it had "I AM" above the four spaces and "LOCKED" below them. It was a basic security system easy to crack.

"All the photographs are on here, I presume," Sherlock remarked as he raised his eyebrow at her slightly.

"I have copies, of course," Irene told him and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes as she put both of her hands on her hips.

"No, you don't. You forget that I know how you work," Lexi told Irene who threw her a dirty look. "You would have and I know for certain that you have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection which means others and also I can't hack into your phone. Unless the contents of your phone are provably unique, you wouldn't be able to sell them."

"Who said I'm selling?" Irene asked Lexi as she lowered the phone when it became apparent that Sherlock wasn't going to give it to her.

"Well, why would they be interested? Whatever's on the phone, it's clearly not just photographs," Sherlock remarked as he looked at the dead and unconscious bodies lying on the floor.

"You're right. She has much more than just some photographs on that," Lexi remarked as she raised her eyebrow slightly.

"That camera phone is my life, Mr Holmes. I'd die before I let you take it," Irene said as she walked closer and held out her hand again, ignoring Lexi as if she wasn't even there. "It's my protection."

"Sherlock! Lexi!" John suddenly yelled from upstairs.

"It was," Sherlock told Irene, pulling the phone back and looking at Irene pointedly. He looked over at Lexi who nodded at them before they both turned and left the room as Irene chased after them. They walked upstairs to the bedroom where they found the figure of Kate lying on the floor. Lexi crouched down and checked her pulse before standing up.

"Must have come in this way," John told them and Lexi nodded as she looked around the room with slightly narrowed eyes as she started deducing something.

"Clearly," Sherlock said as he took Lexi by the hand as he went into the bathroom to look out of the window as Irene walked anxiously towards Kate.

"It's all right. She's just out cold," John reassured Irene as they looked about the bathroom. There were definite signs that they had gotten in by using the window which was open.

"Well, God knows she's used to that. There's a back door. Better check it, Doctor Watson," Irene said as Sherlock and Lexi left the bathroom and Sherlock nodded to him to let him know it was a good idea.

"Sure," John said as he left the room and Irene looked up at Lexi.

"Could you get a wet compress for her? The linen closet is just down the hall," Irene asked Lexi who raised her eyebrow and watching her for a long moment before nodding and wordlessly walking out of the room. Irene walked over to the dressing table and opened a drawer, unknowingly taking two syringes out of it while Sherlock looked down at the camera floor.

"You're very calm," Sherlock remarked as Irene looked round at him blankly. "Well, your booby trap did just kill a man," Sherlock added still proud about how Lexi had figured out the code and reacted so quickly.

"He would have killed me. It was self-defence in advance," Irene told him as she walked across to him and stroked her hand down his left arm. As he looked down at her hand, not liking her touching him, she stepped around behind him and stabbed him suddenly with one of the syringes into his right arm. He gasped and spun around, trying to grab at his arm.

"What? What is that? What...?" Sherlock asked her as he turned his face turns towards her again and she slapped him hard. He stumbled and fell to the floor as she held out her hand to him.

"Give it to me. Now. Give it to me," Irene demanded as Sherlock's vision started to go fuzzy. Grunting, he tried to get back to his feet.

"No," He told her as he blinked, trying to right himself.

"Give it to me," Irene demanded again as Sherlock started to lose control of his muscles and therefore slumped to his hands and knees, still holding onto the phone.

"No," Sherlock told her again.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Irene said as she picked up her riding crop from the dressing table and wield it at him. "Drop it," Irene ordered as Sherlock continued trying to struggle to his feet. "I ...," Irene said as she thrashed him "... said ...," She continued as she trashed him again. "...drop it." Irene finished about ready to strike him for a third time but Lexi caught her wrist and twisted it before she could. Irene cried out in pain as she dropped the riding crop as Lexi glared at her. Irene reacted quickly and stabbed Lexi in the arm quickly with the second syringe. Lexi hissed and twisted Irene's arm slightly more before Irene shoved the disoriented girl away from her so that Lexi ended up stumbling and falling right next to Sherlock who reached for her, unintentionally dropping the phone.

"Ah. Thank you, dear," Irene remarked as Sherlock laid on his back next to Lexi the both of them unable to move. Irene picked up the phone and typed on it, standing over Sherlock and Lexi and looking down at them smugly. "Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. They're not for blackmail, just for insurance," Irene said as she put the phone into the pocket of Sherlock's coat which she was still wearing. "Besides, I might want to see her again," Irene told them as Sherlock grunted and tried to get up. Whatever Irene had given them had made Lexi unable to move in the slightest, no matter how much she tried. Irene pressed Sherlock back down to the floor with one foot and the end of her crop which she had picked up again just in case she needed it. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. It's been a pleasure. Don't spoil it," Irene told him as she gently stroked the end of the crop against his face. "This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you," Irene said before she smirked and brought her riding crop down on Lexi's shoulder once. "And I have beaten you Alexandria. You would do well to remember that," Irene said as Sherlock's vision became fuzzier. "Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes," Irene said before she looked at Lexi again. "Good bye Alexandria MacKenna. I'd say it's been a pleasure but then I would be lying," Irene said as she headed for the bathroom just as John walked back into the bedroom.

"Jesus. What are you doing?" John asked Irene as he saw both of his friends laying on the floor.

"They'll sleep for a few hours. Make sure they don't choke on their own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse," Irene told John as she sat on the windowsill in the bathroom, putting her feet up on the edge of the bath, and taking hold of a cord hanging from the ledge.

"What's this? What have you given them? Sherlock! Lexi!" John asked as he knelt down next to them picking up the syringes lying on the floor beside them.

"They'll be fine. I've used it on loads of my friends," Irene told him as John knelt down on his knees next to Sherlock and Lexi.

"Sherlock, can you hear me? Lexi can you open your eyes?" John asked as he checked over his friends, Lexi's eyes slightly open as she slowly moved her gaze up to him.

"You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look or at least he did in the end," Irene told John who stood up again and turned to her.

"For what? What are you talking about?" John asked her in confusion, feeling very angry now that Irene had hurt both of his friends.

"The key code to my safe. He noticed it too, but Alexandria always knows my methods. She does like to take the fun out of everything," Irene remarked as she flicked her gaze down to Lexi and sneered at the now unconscious girl.

"What was it?" John asked Irene as she looked down to Sherlock who was gazing at her barely conscious but still trying in vain to get up.

"Shall I tell him?" Irene asked Sherlock and John looked down at him for a moment then turned back to Irene just as sirens announced the arrival of the police. Irene smiled at him. "My measurements," Irene told him and with that she pushed her feet against the edge of the bath and toppled backwards out of the window, still holding what looked like a cord but was apparently more like a thin rope. John hurried over to the window and looked out while Sherlock still tried vainly to lift himself up but continued to fall back helplessly. And that was the beginning of what was about to be the start of the breaking of Lexi MacKenna.


	62. The Start Of The End

**Hello my sweeties!**

**So I didn't actually have my spinal tap today. It was canceled. Bit of a blessing in disguise I guess. For one thing, they were sort of grasping at straws and weren't even sure if it would find anything and for a second, they neglected to let us know about all the complications that can come with it. So were are holding off for now. Basically, they don't have an answer for me. They have no clue at all why I lost my eye sight but one thing they do know is that if I lost it, there isn't a way of getting it back. That's pretty much assured as of now. It could have been something so much as an autoimmune disease that hasn't presented itself fully yet that caused this. I've ha some pretty ad colds in the past and that can even e enough to set off an autoimmune response and get your body to attack itself. Whatever it is...I'm saying fuck it to the witch hunt. They can't fix it, I have to live with it, but that isn't going to stop me from living my dreams. Kind of empowering women moment right there. **

**So, here is the next chapter it's a bit short, I know but here is the deal. Next Tuesday you get a chapter, next Thursday you get a chapter, next Friday you get one of those mini chapters, and Saturday you get another chapter. Sound good? Brilliant! As always you always get a chapter on Tuesday and Saturday but sometimes I will throw a few extra chapters in if I have them. I'm working on the last case now so...I have a few ahead that I can add a few extra but I'm making sure I have plenty to last until the end of the semester. Should be plenty. We'll see, but more chapters should be coming along. Every week I'll let you know what is going on for that so without further ado, Allons-y!**

**Oh and check out the new one shot series Windows Into Baker Street which will be updated irregularly but includes extra scenes between our detectives.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty -The Start Of The End<strong>

**John's POV**

Lestrade arrived with his squad along with an ambulance which was a good thing because John now had two unconscious friends on the floor of Irene's bedroom. The D.I. helped John get Lexi and Sherlock downstairs, John bearing Sherlock's weight as he helped his now semi-conscious flatmate down the stairs while Lestrade had to carry Lexi because she was out cold. Whatever Irene had given them had affected Lexi more than Sherlock, probably because she was smaller than he was. Lestrade's eyes had nearly bugged out when he had seen Lexi, but John found a coat in the hall with a small handbag that belonged to Lexi. Her coat was a long dark blue trench coat that had brass army buttons on it and John had never seen it before. It was probably a gift from Mycroft as it was very expensively made. The army doctor helped Lestrade get her into her coat so that she was at least modestly covered before they were brought outside. Lexi and Sherlock were checked out in the ambulance as John explained what had happened to Lestrade, especially the part of the CIA trained killers. John left out the part where Lexi seemed to know who they were and how they seemed to know who she was. Somehow that didn't seem like a good thing to be telling him.

After Sherlock and Lexi were cleared and obviously fine save for the sedative they had been given, Lestrade offered to bring them back to the flat in his squad car. Lexi had woken up slightly by now and she and Sherlock where caught up in drug induced hysterics and therefore where laughing like a pack of Hyenas in the back of the ambulance. John took one look at them before accepting Lestrade's offer. The D.I. got Sherlock into the back of the car as he made jokes about being arrested, leaving John to help the barefooted Lexi into the car. The two detectives fell against each other, unable to keep themselves upright. They both giggled and Lestrade looked back at the two of them before he took out his phone and started filming them. John had to admit it was pretty funny and he took over filming them as Lestrade drove them back to the flat. The two of them giggled at apparently nothing and then Sherlock started singing some song which Lexi joined in on. It sounded like a sea chanty if John was being honest. After the singing came the period of French speaking and Sherlock frowned at Lexi before poking her in the cheek at which point Lexi pouted and smacked his hand away, but missed, hitting him in the face instead.

Once they finally got back to the flat, John got Mrs. Hudson to let them in as he and the D.I. held Sherlock and Lexi upright. Getting up the stairs was a triumph as neither Sherlock nor Lexi were fully conscious at this point and they were very incoherent. They finally managed to get both of them upstairs and rather than put them in separate rooms, John had Lestrade bring them both back into Sherlock's room. If he needed to check on them, it would be easier if they were together. Lestrade smirked at him as they got Sherlock into bed after pulling off his shoes and then John got Lexi out of her coat before helping her lay down next to Sherlock. He didn't want to try and change her out of her dress, but he did however go upstairs and grab one of his jumpers which he put over Lexi's dress so that she was slightly more covered than before. As soon as Lexi was laying down next to Sherlock, the consulting detective pulled her close to him and started snuggling up next to her as he buried his face into his hair, a sleepy smile on his face. Apparently they just had to sleep off what Irene gave them so John left the two of them sleeping after he thanked Lestrade for his help getting them back to the flat. The D.I. waved him off, grinning as he snapped a picture of Sherlock and Lexi before leaving. It was going to be a long night.

**Sherlock's POV**

As Sherlock lapsed into unconsciousness, he found himself in his Mind Place back at the crime scene in the country, sitting in the driver's seat of Phil's car. Irene was standing outside clinging onto the ledge of the rolled-down window and looking in at him urgently. Why was she here? A sound from next to him drew his attention away from Irene and he found Lexi sitting next to him wearing her jeans and his stolen button up shirt, her hair down and her face clear of makeup. That was how Sherlock loved to see her. He loved to see her, actually see her, not the done up version of her. She did look beautiful in her dress and with her makeup and hair done up, but that wasn't his Lexi. His Lexi was stolen clothes and smiles and laughter and the rolling of her eyes. She was not the cold tense person that he had seen at Irene's house. That was someone else's Lexi and he rather wanted his Lexi back. His Mind Place Lexi grinned at him and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Got it!" Irene said suddenly, just before their lips met and Sherlock groaned as he blinked and tried to clear his head. Why did she have to keep interrupting them? Sherlock turned to get out of the car but Irene held up a finger. "Oh, shush now. Don't get up. I'll do the talking," Irene said as Lexi snorted and raised her eyebrow at her. "Got a problem with that ginger?" Irene asked Lexi, smirking at her and Lexi shook her head.

"Yes, actually, I think you should shut up and let the professional speak, unless your profession is in solving crimes too, but I rather doubt it. You only know what police men like," Lexi told Irene as she slid out of the car and she walked around to the rear of it and bent down to look more closely at the exhaust pipe. "The car is about to backfire ...," Lexi said as she stood up again. Irene rolled her eyes at Lexi and crossed her arms as she and Sherlock both watched the Irish girl. Sherlock smirked at her, proud of how she was taking control. Instead of letting Irene steamroll over her, Lexi was taking control again and taking over the roll she played as his partner on cases. Suddenly Lexi, Irene, and Sherlock were standing near the hiker in the field while he stood frozen and staring upwards at a forty-five degree angle. "Oh by the way, I've gotten better at roaming around your Mind Palace," Lexi told Sherlock with a smirk as the consulting detective realized that she had moved them, not him. "So, as I was saying, the car is about to backfire. Right now the hiker is staring up at the sky. Now, he could be watching birds, but why would he? The answer is he wasn't," Lexi said as she walked around to the front of the hiker, following his gaze. Sherlock followed her as Irene stood off to the side with her arms folded, rolling her eyes again and sneering at Lexi as she huffed. "See I think the hiker was looking at something else entirely. The car backfired which startled the hiker and like any human who hears a loud noise he turned around to look. There's been a study, which showed that when people hear a loud nose they can't help but turn to see what it is, its human nature, the survival part of our brain takes over," Lexi said and Sherlock smiled proudly at her. He loved when she started giving a deduction and broke off into explaining some fact she had learnt.

The three of them watched as the hiker turned his head to look back towards the car and at the same moment an object flew in so rapidly that it was hard to see what it was. It hit him on the back of the head, bounced off and skimmed quickly away. The man fell backwards and, for a brief moment, Sherlock woke up slightly and was back in Irene's bedroom as he fell backwards to the floor. His hand reached out to Lexi's hand which was next to him before he lapsed back into unconsciousness and entered his Mind Palace again. He was back at the crime scene with Irene and Lexi, the Irish girl walking over to him and kissing his cheek as she grinned at him and he took her hand and squeezed it before she darted off to look down at the ground in front of the hiker, dragging him along with her. Irene was sulking off to the side as Lexi had taken over the explanation and both detectives were ignoring her. Sherlock didn't know why Irene was in his Mind Palace but he had an idea that it was because of the fact that Lexi had reacted to her so badly. Lexi was such a permanent part of his Mind Palace now that she could somehow control it just as much as he could. Lexi was connected to Irene, thus Irene was in his Mind Palace only because she was a part of Lexi's past and present.

"Looking back was a bit of a big mistake on his part, but he couldn't help himself," Lexi continued on as she looked back towards the road again. "By the time the driver looked up, the hiker was already dead. What he didn't see was what killed him because it was already being washed downstream. Thus when he came to see us, he thought that it was possible that he might have killed the hiker. As we thought, rather transparent," Lexi said as she pointed to the boomerang that was floating at the edge of the stream. "Our hiker was an accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel. From Australia to be exact and he like every other tourist, brought back with him a boomerang," Lexi said as she turned and smiled at Sherlock.

"You got that all from one look?" Irene asked Lexi surprised and Lexi nodded at her.

"Your profession is to take off your clothes and entertain people mine is to make connections like the one I just made," Lexi told Irene who rolled her eyes at her before Lexi turned towards Sherlock. "See, brainy is definitely the new sexy," Lexi told Sherlock, kissing his cheek and Sherlock blushed slightly at her comment.

"I ...," Sherlock said vaguely as he blinked around in confusion. "I ...," Sherlock said again as Lexi took a step back from him and behind Sherlock, a bed rose up to meet him. The angle changed and he sunk down onto the bed and a sheet rose up to wrap around him. His eyes closed as he felt them growing heavy with sleep.

"Hush now," Irene said softly as she walked closer to him and leaned down over him. "It's okay. I'm only returning your coat," Irene said as she leaned closer to him then she faded out of his vision. Sherlock jerked back into consciousness and found himself alone and in bed in his own bedroom, fully clothed and covered with a sheet. He lifted his head in his confusion, his brain muddled as he tried to think. The first thing he needed to know was where Lexi was. He remembered seeing here at Irene's house last, passed out beside him on the floor and then she had been in his Mind Palace. John, John would know where she was.

"John?" Sherlock asked as he shook his head, trying to clear it. "John!" Sherlock called lowered as he threw the sheet off of himself and kneeled up on the bed, then promptly lost his balance, falling forward and rolling over the foot of the bed and onto the floor. John opened the bedroom door and came in as Sherlock sat up.

"You okay?" John asked Sherlock only sounding slightly worried.

"How did I get here?" Sherlock asked John, not able to remember how he had made it from Irene's house to back to the flat.

"Well, I don't suppose you remember much. You weren't making a lot of sense. You and Lexi kept speaking in French. Oh, I should warn you Lestrade filmed you on his phone," John told Sherlock who got up to his feet.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked John quickly. John had mentioned Lexi which meant that she had to be back here too, but where was she? She normally slept next to him.

"Where's who?" John asked Sherlock in confusion and Sherlock huffed in irritation.

"The woman. That woman," Sherlock said, in his head adding my woman. Lexi was his woman, wasn't she? She should be.

"What woman?" John asked Sherlock and Sherlock frowned at him. What did he mean what woman? He only had one woman.

"The woman. The woman woman!" Sherlock told John in exasperation as he stumbled around the room aimlessly.

"What, Irene Adler? She got away. No-one saw her," John said as Sherlock stumbled over to the open window and looked through it wondering if maybe Lexi had gone up to the roof. Surely she would have come into check on him by now. She was always taking care of him. "She wasn't here, Sherlock," John said and Sherlock turned around to tell him he was talking about the wrong person when he fell down again. While he was down there he dragged himself across the floor and peered under the bed to see if Lexi was hiding under there, then he squinted around to check to see that she was not hidden under or behind the wardrobe either. Why she would hide there he had no clue. "What are you...? What...? No, no, no, no," John said as he hauled Sherlock up and dropped him face-down onto the bed. "Back to bed," John said as he covered him over with the sheet again. "Hang on a second, where is Lexi?" John asked as Sherlock pointed at him and flailed around a bit as he tried to gesture to say that that was who he had been asking about. A small crashing sound came from behind John and he turned around quickly as Lexi came into view, wearing an oversized oatmeal jumper. She giggled and John sighed as he took her by the shoulders and steered her towards the bed. "Of course you would wander off," John said as he poked Sherlock until the consulting detective turned on his side to make room for her and Lexi tripped over her now sock clad feet and fell into bed, slightly on top of Sherlock. He groaned as Lexi giggled before she squirmed so that she was lying on the bed instead of on him. John covered the both of them with the sheet again and shook his head in exasperation. "You'll be fine in the morning. Just sleep," John told them as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Lexi again and pulled her towards himself, as she nodded off again immediately.

"Of course I'll be fine. I am fine. I'm absolutely fine," Sherlock told John blurrily.

"Yes, you're great. Now I'll be next door if you two need me," John said, having decided to kip in Lexi's room so that he would be closer to her and Sherlock should they need him or fell ill in the middle of the night.

"Why would I need you?" Sherlock asked John fuzzily. He really did want to know what John thought he would need him for. He was new to this friend thing still and having someone he could rely on.

"No reason at all," John told him and Sherlock's face scrunched up in confusion as that had been Lexi's exact answer when he has asked her the same question. John walked out of the room shutting the door behind him. Sherlock closed his eyes after briefly registering that his coat was hanging on the back of the door. He snuggled up against Lexi, breathing in the apple scent that clung to her hair and slowly felt himself drifting off again as his whole body relaxed. A few moments later the pocket of his coat lit up as his phone activated and an orgasmic female sigh came from the speaker. Sherlock opened his eyes and sat up, looking down at Lexi in surprise before he realized that she was completely passed out again. He looked blearily across to his coat next and frowned at it realising that it could only have been returned by Irene. He got out of bed, being careful to not move Lexi and wake her up as she needed her sleep, and wobbled across the floor towards it, losing his balance a couple of times en route but managing to stay on his feet. Finally he got to the door and took the phone out of his pocket. He braced himself against the wall as he activated the phone. He had one new text message read:

**_Till the next time, Mr. Holmes_**

Sherlock peered at it for a long moment and then looked around suspiciously, totally oblivious to the fact that the most suspicious thing in the room was the red kiss-shaped lipstick mark just to the left of his mouth. Sherlock stumbled back over to his bed and dropped his phone onto his nightstand before he crawled back onto the bed and pulled Lexi to him. She turned around in her sleep and buried her head under his neck. Sherlock smiled sleepily now that he had his woman with him.

**Third Person POV**

The next morning, Sherlock, now fully recovered, Lexi, who was still slightly out of it today, and John were sitting at the table in the living room. John was eating breakfast while Sherlock was reading a newspaper. Lexi was sipping at a cup of peppermint tea, a bruise forming on her shoulder which was visible with what she was wearing, her hair tied up into a messy bun on her head and she was bent over the pages of a book. Sherlock had woken up first and quickly got dressed, leaving Lexi to sleep as went to join John out in the living room. He had heard Lexi get up and go into the bathroom before she padded out into the kitchen in her own baggy sweatpants and an oversized slightly off the shoulder t shirt with a tank top under it. Sherlock had frowned as he saw that bruise, knowing where it had come from as he had two identical ones on his own body. Lexi was quiet this morning and she had made her tea before walking over to the table. Sherlock had smiled at her, but she hadn't even looked at him as she went and sat by John. Sherlock frowned as he she did this. All morning he had been attempting to get her to look at him, but she hadn't met his gaze and had instead remained quiet even when John tried to get her to talk. John had thrown a worried look to Sherlock who raised his eyebrow slightly, but neither man pushed the matter. She would talk when she felt ready too.

Mycroft had come by that morning and Lexi looked up and smiled for the first time which confused both Sherlock and John. She had stood up and given him a small hug before she disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a mug of tea for Mycroft and a fresh mug of tea for herself. She returned to her spot beside John as Mycroft stood nearby. Lexi perked up slightly after Mycroft's arrival, but she just didn't seem like her normal self today. She seemed, if John was being honest, a bit depressed. He could understand her not feeling well after yesterday, but he couldn't figure out what might be upsetting her so much. Lexi had saved them as always and besides getting drugged and almost shot the case had gone rather well. They had lost the phone, but that just meant that they needed to find Irene again. Of course, John hadn't missed the tension between the two women. This was deeper than just dislike, this was hatred, true hatred between the two women which made John wonder what had happened between the two women in the past. The way Irene had looked at her was almost as if she looked down on her.

"The photographs are perfectly safe," Sherlock told Mycroft, pulling John out of his thoughts about Lexi. They were currently talking about the fact that the phone they were supposed to get from Irene was still in her possession and the only thing they got out from the day before was one dead CIA trained killer and two drugged detectives. Mycroft had looked to Lexi when they mentioned the CIA killers which made John and Sherlock both wonder what Lexi might not have told them.

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker," Mycroft said and Lexi stood up and rolled her eyes as she snorted and walked around John, heading towards the kitchen.

"Well yeah. I did try to warn you Mycroft, if you'll remember," Lexi called back from the kitchen as the three men turned to listen to her and she walked out back into the living room with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "If you had stopped to listen to me for one minute you would have heard me say that Irene is dangerous and when threatened she bites," Lexi said giving Mycroft a pointed look as if that sentence had more meaning to him than it did to John and Sherlock. Mycroft sighed as Lexi went and perched on the arm of John's chair so that she was sitting near Mycroft.

"She's not interested in blackmail. She wants ... protection for some reason. I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, flicking his gaze over to Lexi once who was looking up at Mycroft instead. Oh, so she was fine with Mycroft.

"How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied," Mycroft said and Lexi nodded slightly. It did seem that way to her. As long as Irene still had the photographs she could use them at any time and she would hold that over their heads in order to save her own skin.

"She'd applaud your choice of words. You see how this works, that camera phone is her "Get out of jail free" card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft," Sherlock told his brother as Lexi frowned slightly.

"Though not the way she treats royalty," John added as he smiled round at Mycroft sarcastically, who returned the smile humourlessly. Just then an orgasmic female sigh filled the room and all of them turned their eyes to Lexi whose eyes had widened as she blinked slowly. John and Mycroft frowned as Lexi shook her head, indicating that the noise had not come from her. "What was that?" John asked as Lexi's eyebrow raised slightly.

"Text," Sherlock told him trying to look nonchalant as Lexi's eyebrow shot higher towards her hairline before she furrowed her brows, something flashed through her eyes as she met Sherlock's gaze for the first time before she looked away quickly.

"But what was that noise?" John asked Sherlock as he got up and went over to pick up his phone from nearby. He looked at the message which read:

**_Good morning, Mr. Holmes_**

"Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John, Lexi, and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess," Sherlock said, deflecting the question as he walked back to the table and sat down again as John looked round at Mycroft.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft," John said before he turned to Lexi. "You know I never got to ask, how did you know that guy, Neilson was it?" John asked Lexi who sighed before looking up at Mycroft and grinning slightly.

"Long story. I met him once, he's never been too fond of me. They were CIA trained killers," Lexi told the boys and John stared back at her blankly, wondering what business she would have in meeting a man like that. "Oh and I've taken care of that for you this morning Mycroft. I texted Joanie the details. Let's just say, they'll be very lucky if they are still alive after talking to her. She doesn't take people trying to kill me too well which is why I haven't told her about some of the things that have happened recently," Lexi told Mycroft and Sherlock raised his eyebrow questioningly.

There was that name again, Joanie. Who was Joanie? She talked about her often enough these days. She wasn't a sibling, Lexi was an only child. Not a romantic attachment either unless Lexi was bisexual which at a guess Sherlock would say no to, so he had to go with friend. She had mentioned a Mary once or twice but she mentioned Joanie more than that so possibly a very close friend. Now she told Mycroft that this Joanie person would take care of the CIA trained killers which said that she held some position of power. Lexi also took care of something for Mycroft which meant she was working with him to some degree which gave Sherlock more questions about what Mycroft had wanted to talk to her about. Sherlock was brought out of his inner musings as Mrs. Hudson brought in a plate of breakfast from the kitchen and put it down in front of Sherlock, Lexi having forgone eating this morning.

"It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes," Mrs. Hudson scolded Mycroft sternly and Sherlock smirked a little bit in amusement over the fact that Mycroft was the one getting scolded by Mrs. Hudson for once as it was usually him.

"Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson," Mycroft told the woman who looked offended immediately.

"MYCROFT!" Sherlock shouted furiously while simultaneously and equally furiously John shouted, "OI!"

Lexi stood up from her position and looked up at Mycroft furiously before she reached up and pulled the taller man down by the lapels of his suit jacket so that he was within an inch from her face. He stumbled slightly as he lost his balance and the look on Lexi's face had the man cowering slightly.

"Mycroft Holmes, do I need to remind you that I happen to be on very good terms with your mother. I'm sure she would love to hear about your recent behaviour," Lexi told as she pushed him back upright and he ran his hands over his suit to smooth it out as Lexi continued to glare up at him furiously before she pointed back towards John, Sherlock, and Mrs. Hudson who were watching their exchange. Mycroft turned and looked at their angry faces glaring at him, then cringed and looked contritely at Mrs. Hudson.

"Apologies," Mycroft told Mrs. Hudson as Lexi nodded slightly and pursed her lips as she continued to give him a look.

"Thank you," Mrs. Hudson said, both to Mycroft and to Lexi who Mrs. Hudson noticed was looking slightly pale and just a bit off today.

"Though do, in fact, shut up," Sherlock said before a well-aimed crumpled paper hit him in the dead centre of his forehead. He looked over at Lexi who grinned at him slightly as she raised her eyebrow and that had Sherlock very thankfully that she hadn't thrown something else as her aim seemed to always be perfect. His phone suddenly sighed orgasmically again and Mrs. Hudson, who was going back into the kitchen, turned back.

"Ooh. It's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?" Mrs. Hudson asked as Sherlock looked at the latest message which read:

**_Feeling better?_**

"Very," Lexi remarked and Sherlock looked up at her, hearing the cold tone in her voice and he saw her lips drawn into a thin line her eyes just as cold as her tone of voice. Sherlock didn't like it. This wasn't his Lexi. It was like someone had taken her place ever since they went to the Palace. This was Mycroft's fault. It was also slightly funny how what she had said had answered the question asked of him.

"There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see," Sherlock told Mycroft, ignoring his problem with Lexi for now so that he could conclude this meeting with his brother.

"I can put maximum surveillance on her," Mycroft told Sherlock and Lexi huffed and rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't care if you put surveillance on her or not My, in fact I think she rather enjoys it," Lexi said in that same odd tone that she adopted every time she spoke about Irene. Sherlock threw a look over to her once as John eyed her warily, noticing it too.

"Why bother?" Sherlock asked his brother in reference to the surveillance. "You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her user name is "TheWhipHand"," Sherlock told his brother with a little quirky smile.

"Yes. Most amusing," Mycroft told him as his phone rang and he took it from his pocket, reading the caller I.D. "'Scuse me. Alexandria a moment please," Mycroft told her before he walked out into the hall followed by Lexi. "Hello," Mycroft said as he answered his call and Sherlock watched him and Lexi leave, frowning suspiciously. John looked at him taking advantage of the fact that Lexi was out of the room.

"Why does your phone make that noise?" John asked Sherlock curiously, having noticed how Lexi's mood seemed to plummet every time she heard it.

"What noise?" Sherlock asked John, playing like he didn't know what John was talking about.

"That noise – the one it just made," John elaborated, not letting Sherlock weasel out of this one.

"It's a text alert. It means I've got a text," Sherlock told him shortly, hoping that John would just leave it at that, but of course, that was too much to hope for.

"Hmm. Your texts don't usually make that noise," John remarked and Sherlock looked over at him for a second and sighed a bit.

"Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalised their text alert noise," Sherlock told John, knowing who it was, the same way Lexi did. It was why she got that same expression every time she heard it. It was the same one she made when she spoke about Irene.

"Hmm. So every time they text you ..." John said as right on cue, the phone sighed orgasmically again.

"It would seem so," Sherlock told him as he looked down at his phone and picked it up again.

"Could you turn that phone down a bit? At my time of life, it's...," Mrs. Hudson told him before trailing off as Sherlock read the latest text message which read:

**_I'm fine since you didn't ask_**

Sherlock put down his phone again and went back to reading the paper which was showing the headline "Refit for Historical Hospital".

"I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone, because it would have been in your coat, wouldn't it?" John asked Sherlock who raised his newspaper so that it was obscuring his face.

"I'll leave you to your deductions,' Sherlock told him simply and John smiled at him.

"I'm not stupid, you know," John said, having a good idea who it was given Lexi's reaction to it.

"Where do you get that idea?" Sherlock asked him. Where had John ever gotten the idea that he thought he was stupid. As Lexi often told him, he was brilliant in his own way. Speaking of Lexi, just why had Mycroft needed her to join him in the hall?

**Lexi's POV**

"Hello," Mycroft answered his phone as he and I stepped out of the flat and walked down the stairs. I led him over to Mrs. Hudson's flat and opened the door, letting the both of us inside since Mrs. Hudson was upstairs in our flat and her living room was more private than the stairwell. Mycroft switched the phone to speaker as he answered whatever the person had asked him on the phone. "Myself along with Agent Lexington are present," Mycroft said and I raised my eyebrow at that. Ah so Joanie had told him to use my old code name. Agent Lexington was always my code name when Joanie referenced me and for a specific reason as well.

"Agent Lexington, it's good to have you be a part of this," Someone said on the other line and I nodded slightly.

"I'm told I was recruited by Lady Liberty because of the skills I possess," I replied, using Joanie's code name. Everything with this project was top secret and none of our actual names would ever go on any list. Therefore we referred to reach other by our code names. Mycroft's was simply M, a Bond reference to Mother.

Joanie's actual name was Joanna Reyer. She was a freelance intelligence agent with both CIA and FBI training. It was how I met Neilson and also why he had known to be careful with me. Joanna didn't work for the CIA or the FBI, she technically didn't work for anyone. She gave her help to the people she chose to and she never worked for them but with them. She was technically an assassin if you wanted to label her position, but she had never once killed anyone. She liked to negotiate instead. She was a cryptographer as well as a hacker. Mycroft might have taught me my sword training but Joanna taught me herself, a mixture of her CIA and FBI training. She was the one who had given me my gun and was the reason that I could pack such a punch. Neilson knew that I was as trained as he was if not more so. Even though I had the skill set of an assassin didn't mean I used it for anything other than self-defence. Joanna currently lived in America which was why her code name was Lady Liberty and she had been the one to refer me to David Rossi of the FBI'S BAU when they had a case she thought I could help on. I had met Joanna in Dublin when I was working as a consulting detective there and while I hadn't spoken to Mary much or seen her in the last seven years, I saw Joanna as often as I could and spoke to her regularly.

She was excited when I told her I was consulting again and after John's blog took off she started texting me nearly every day instead of her customary few times a week. I had been helping her solve some cases recently for the FBI that she was working on. The last time I had seen Joanna was two years ago which was when she had trained me before she had to leave out on another assignment. That visit lasted three months. She was as close to me as a sister would be and she was the one that had kept me from relapsing after meeting Irene the first time. Irene knew how to get under my skin and last time she had brought up my father who was partially the reason for why I started doing drugs. Moriarty and my grandfather's death were the other causes for that. Joanna always wanted to go straight to my father and deck him, but he wasn't worth it. This time around Irene had more to go off of. As soon as I had walked into the room I could tell that she knew that I loved Sherlock. She was already using that against me and…it was working. As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't deny the looks that Sherlock had thrown Irene's way.

"Yes, Lady Liberty asked for you specifically," The Agent on the phone answered me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Your skill set is needed if we want to see this project get off the ground. We're still waiting for the okay M. With any luck we can set this project into motion within a month," The agent told us and Mycroft nodded.

"How are you planning to proceed?" Mycroft asked the agent who was working this project.

"Lady Liberty would write the code with Lexington which will be sent to all of the agents to inform them of the plan. Both agents can then monitor for any breaches of security and hack records to cover up the project. You've mentioned that Lexington is rather good at hacking," The agent said and I laughed slightly at that.

"Yes, she has a way of getting into places she doesn't belong," Mycroft told him as we walked out of the Mrs. Hudson's flat together.

"We await your approval," The agent said as we walked up the stairs and Mycroft switched his phone of speaker and put it back to his ear as we walked back into the living room together.

"Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later," Mycroft told the agent, giving the go ahead before he hung up and Sherlock turned to look at us after Mycroft silently gave me a look to say nothing and I nodded at him in understanding.

"What else does she have?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who looked at him enquiringly. "Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more," Sherlock said as he stood up and faced his brother. "Much more," Sherlock added as Mycroft looked at him stony-faced. Sherlock walked closer to us as I raised my eyebrow at him and popped my hip to the right as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"There is always more Sherlock and she most definitely has more than just the photographs. What the American's want however, someone else is looking into that," I told Sherlock looking up at Mycroft as I nodded at him once to assure him of that fact. Joanna was already looking into it for me and Neilson and Prentiss would be getting a visit from her which they wouldn't like too much.

"Something big's coming, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, giving me a questioning look as he raised his eyebrow slightly.

"Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this," Mycroft told Sherlock and I grinned up at him. So, he was finally listening to me. I had told him what Irene was like and he hadn't listened to me.

"Oh, will I?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, looking eyes with him as he stared him down challengingly.

"Yes, Sherlock, you will," Mycroft told him as Sherlock shrugged and turned away from him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend," Mycroft told Sherlock who picked up his violin.

"Do give her my love," Sherlock told him as he began to play "God Save The Queen". Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned to look at me.

"I'll be in contact with you. I might require some additional help from you on a different matter," Mycroft told me and I nodded at him.

"Fine. Send me what you need to and I'll get it done," I told Mycroft and he nodded at me gratefully before he left the room, Sherlock followed along behind him, playing his violin while John grinned. As Mycroft hurried down the stairs, Sherlock turned back and walked over to the window, still playing.

I caught John's gaze and shook my head at him and looked back at Sherlock who had his back to me. That was the moment I knew. I was losing Sherlock. I wasn't Irene and I couldn't compete with her and I had seen the way he was looking at her and that was with her wearing his coat. I didn't even want to think about what might have happened before I had gotten there. I knew that was what Irene wanted. She wanted to take him from me and even though I knew this, it was working because I realized that I might not have had Sherlock in the first place. I said I wasn't going to let Irene get to me. I had said a lot of things and I had made a fool of myself by wearing that dress to try and impress Irene and show her I was more than what she saw in me. I wasn't like her though, I wasn't as interesting as her or as beautiful or clever. There was no competition and I knew that. So without even trying, she had already won. And though I hated to admit it, Mycroft had been right. Any relationship I had with Sherlock would only end in me getting hurt. And just like that, the walls I had built around my heart to protect myself from getting hurt were breaking, but were they ever very strong to begin with? Now that was the question.


	63. When You're Alone

**Hello sweeties!**

**So, another chapter for you all I am taking all your prompts for Windows In Baker Street and adding them to the to be written file. Willow, yours is up next, give me a few days, college has been crazy. Also your theory is as Sherlock would say, wrong, which I am happy to say. Partially right, mostly wrong. I know, I'm maddeningly unhelpful.**

**Thank you for all of the reviews! I promise, Irene never breaks Lexi, second promise, she never goes back to the drugs, she does get pushed and tested and her spirit will be badly beaten but Sherlock does fix her in the end. Our detectives have a happy ending. Moriarty said Lexi would wish she didn't have a heart when he was done with her... Well, his first method was Irene. It's going to be brutal but she will get through. Lots of character development for both her and Sherlock throughout this, especially at the end.**

**In this chapter we finally get to meet the person you've all been waiting to meet, Lexi's father. Now this case, I made it the most emotionally brutal for Lexi. I threw everything at her, if there was some emotional pain I could cause, I found it, but I made sure there would be a good ending. I'm basically the female version of Moffat but no story can always have a perfect plot. You have to have heartbreak. So without further ado, onto the chapter. Part two of Ireland will be posted on Thursday. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty One- When You're Alone<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Over the next week things started to settle down around Baker Street, but they did not return to normal. For one, I moved back into my own room. I started to distance myself from Sherlock because that was the only thing I could do in order to protect myself from further heartache. I had gotten too attached to him and I had already gotten hurt. I should have listened to Mycroft. I knew it was foolish to have ever believed that what I had with Sherlock could go any further than it already had. He was married to his work and it was wrong of me to have ever thought that I could change that. I could continue to work cases with him but I could not continue my relationship with him. My personal feelings should have never gotten in the way. Sherlock and I were business partners, nothing more and nothing less and when we weren't working we were flatmates and possibly still friends. I didn't know where I stood with Sherlock anymore or where he stood with me. I still…I still loved him but I couldn't do this anymore. I was confused about how I felt about him and I just needed a break from it all, just some time to get my head around everything. He was interested in Irene. I could see that.

I couldn't compete with Irene. I couldn't come anywhere close to her level. I had seen the way Sherlock had reacted to her and it was completely different from how he reacted to me. Irene was confident, sexy, and strong. Next to her I was nothing. I didn't like wearing dresses like the one I had worn to her house, in fact I had felt rather stupid wearing it. I had thought that if I showed Irene that I could be as confident and sexy as she was that somehow I would have an advantage, but she had won again. I didn't even want to think about what might have happened before I had gotten there. She was wearing Sherlock's coat which told me she had gone in to meet him completely naked. That was Irene though, she didn't care, but I did. The nightmares came back now that I wasn't sleeping next to Sherlock, but that was a small price to pay for not losing him completely. I knew I was losing him too. Irene texted him a lot. I knew it was her. I knew she was messing with me, showing me that even when she wasn't here she could still get to Sherlock. I couldn't tell if he was texting her back or not, but why wouldn't he? Sherlock always reacted to everything and I knew that Irene would be flirting with him.

During that first week after our encounter with Irene Sherlock took the occasionally client, but I busied myself with Bond Air. Every day I left the flat without giving the boys an explanation of where I was going. I spent my days with Mycroft in secret meetings. Now that Mycroft had given the go for Bond Air we were getting down to the planning stages. The Coventry lot were ready to go and we were working in close proximity with MI6 agents as well. Apparently they were impressed with my skills after I hacked into some secure sites and brought up the information we needed on the screen rather than waiting for Mycroft to call it up. Joanna joined us over conference call and the two of us got started on writing a code that we could write the plans in to send out to all of the other agents. It was nice to work with her again and it was always fun. Most of the time we spent chatting and she kept my mind off of Sherlock. I didn't tell the boys where I was going because I knew that they might try to find out what I was doing. The time away from Sherlock made things slightly better. I only saw him a bit at night now when I came back to the flat. John didn't ask me where I went and therefore I didn't have to lie to him. John was worried about me, I knew that, but I made it seem like I was completely fine. If I acted like everything was fine, maybe it would be.

At the end of the week I was finally home, but not by choice. I sat on the couch with my book and a mug of tea as I tried to avoid the looks that John was sending my way. Sherlock was conducting some experiment in the kitchen which I had politely declined helping him on. When I had gone to sit and read instead I had missed the deep frown and hurt expression that Sherlock threw my way. John was typing up something for his blog which I was pointedly trying to stay away from. I really didn't want to read what his assessment of Irene was. The silence in the flat was only interrupted by Sherlock's occasional mumblings from the kitchen, John's typing, and the flick of me turning the page. I was trying to concentrate on my book instead of letting my mind wander onto thoughts about Sherlock but somehow the works of Jane Austin weren't helping. There was too much in it about love which seemed to unrealistic to me in my current state of apathy. I got up and put my book away as John followed my path through the living room with his eyes. I grabbed my copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and crossed back over to the couch to read it. I hadn't sat in Sherlock's chair lately and had taken to sitting on the end of the couch. I attempted to lose myself in the story but my concentration was broken when my mobile rang. I looked over to it and sighed as Sherlock looked up from his experiment and John turned his head to look as well. I bit back the laugh that threatened to bubble out as I caught sight of Sherlock wearing his safety looked like a cross between Albert Einstein and a mad scientist since his hair was all messed up from the humidity of his experiment. I sighed heavily and put down my book before leaning across to pick my mobile up from the coffee table. I frowned when I saw that the caller I.D. said Thomas and I answered it quickly.

"Thomas?" I asked, my voice laced with concern. Thomas was Alistair's adopted son and he was three years older than me. He never called me and the only reason he had my number was in case something was wrong with Alistair. "What's wrong?" I prompted Thomas as I stood up and crossed over to the window, staring out at the busy street below.

"It's dad," Thomas told me and from the tone of his voice I could tell that he was really tired. "I wanted to call you sooner but he didn't want you to worry about him. He's been reading that blog about you and he knew you had only just gotten back into consulting again," Thomas told me as he sighed heavily.

"Tell me what Thomas?" I asked him anxiously as John put down his laptop and stood up, looking at me in confusion as my frown deepened. I hugged myself with my free hand as I bit my lip in worry. Thomas sighed heavily again before answering me.

"He has cancer," Thomas told me and I sucked in a deep breath as my eyes watered and Sherlock came out of the kitchen after taking his gloves and googles off. John moved over to my side as a few tears slipped out.

"How bad is it?" I asked Thomas my voice thick and I heard him shuffle a bit on the other line.

"Honey," Thomas said and I bit back a sob. He only called me honey when it was bad news. "Honey, I'm sorry. He's dying. He didn't want to tell you sooner because he knew you would just worry about him when there was nothing you could do. He also knew that you had just gotten into consulting again. He's very proud of you," Thomas told me and Ichoked a bit as I put a hand up to my mouth as the tears flowed freely.

"What is it?" John asked me and I waved him off blindly as I tried to listen to Thomas as he started speaking again. I walked around the army doctor and started pacing the length of the living room.

"He wants to see you. He doesn't have that long…," Thomas told me, trailing off and I nodded, not meeting Sherlock's gaze as he tried to get me to look at him.

"Of course," I told Thomas, my voice thick from crying. "I'll take the first flight out there," I told Thomas quickly as John and Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise.

"Dad wants you to stay here and he says he would love for you to bring your detective and army doctor friend. He's sort of obsessed with that blog about you three," Thomas told me and I chuckled slightly as I shook my head slightly.

"He would be," I mused. "He was always saying I should write up more about my cases. Always loved hearing about them," I told him before sighing heavily. "Is he there?" I asked Thomas, biting my lip nervously.

"I'm sorry honey, he is. He's been here a few times, wanted to know if you had been to see Dad. I don't think he knows about you working again," Thomas told me and I laughed bitterly as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Crying wasn't going to change anything. Alistair still was going to be dying and nothing I could do was going to change that.

"The day that he actually cares about how I am and what I do is the day that Hell freezes over," I told Thomas before shaking my head. "I'll be there soon. I'll text you my flight details," I told Thomas as I looked over at John who was frowning as he looked at me in confusion.

"I'll come and get you," Thomas told me and I shook my head again as I looked away from the army doctor.

"No, stay with him. I can get out there myself," I assured Thomas quickly. "Tell him that I'll be there soon," I told Thomas as I stopped pacing and met Sherlock and John's gaze as both men watched me. Sherlock had one eyebrow raised in silent questioning while John was watching me worriedly.

"Slán deirfiúr," Thomas told me and I smiled slightly at that. [Goodbye sister.]

"Slán deartháir. Bí ag faire air. Beidh mé a bheith sa bhaile go luath," I replied in Gaelic before I hung up the phone. [Goodbye brother. Watch him well. I'll be home soon.] As soon as I hung up I broke down again and started crying and I found myself pulled into John's strong arms as he patted me on the back and let me cry.

"Lexi, what's wrong?" John asked me helplessly as I sniffled and tried to get my tears under control. I straightened up and pulled back from him as I continued to cry and Sherlock looked at me helplessly as I wiped at my eyes.

"My father, the man I see as my father, Alistair, has cancer. He's dying and he doesn't have much time left and he wants to see me," I told them as coherently as I could as I managed to stop crying and took a few deep breaths as I shook my head. "I'm leaving out on the first flight to Ireland. I don't know when I'll be back," I told the boys as I made to move to go towards the kitchen so that I could go pack and call Mycroft to help me with my flight.

"You're not going alone," Sherlock said and I froze as he spoke for the first time and I turned around and raised my eyebrow at him.

"Oh I'm not am I?" I asked Sherlock challengingly as I raised my eyebrow at him, daring him to question me and he nodded at me as John looked between the two of us cautiously.

"No," Sherlock told me calmly as he forced me to look at him. "The person you see as your father figure is dying. You're worried about him and therefore vulnerable. We're coming with you," Sherlock told me and I sighed heavily.

"You don't have to. I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to come with me. I'm fine, I can handle this," I told Sherlock as I made to turn around again before he grabbed my arm and stopped me. Where he touched my arm felt like I had suddenly been shocked. It was the first contact I had had with him in a week. I had been careful lately and every time he came close to me I would move away from him. Of course I had never seen the hurt look on Sherlock's face when I did.

"I want to come," Sherlock told me in a quiet voice and I looked back at him, frowning in confusion.

"Why?" I asked him and he frowned back at me.

"Isn't that what friends do?" He asked me in confusion and I nodded at him slowly in confirmation. "Then John and I will come with you. I'll call Mycroft and get him to work out the flight details," Sherlock told me and in a moment of weakness I hugged him quickly, lingering for a moment as he held me before I pulled back and got control of myself.

"Thank you," I told the consulting detective before I hugged John quickly and darted off to my room to pack before I could lose my resolve and let Sherlock comfort me more. I had to stay strong and distance myself. I could do that...maybe. I was always weak when it came to Sherlock.

I started packing up my jumpers and jeans along with my thicker socks. It was going to be cold at this time of year, especially because of how drafty Alistair's house was. Technically it wasn't a house or an estate. It was a castle. In fact my own family home was a castle if I was being honest. I heard Sherlock in his own room as I pulled down some clothes from my closet that I hadn't worn in a while I thought about taking my grey coat or my new trench coat and I decided on my trench coat. My grey coat was too much like Sherlock's. My new coat made me look less like him. I had replaced my scarf with a pale yellow one instead of wearing the one Sherlock had bought me and I had taken to wearing Alistair's necklace again instead of the one Sherlock had gotten me as a gift as well. I was trying to make myself not look like Sherlock as if that would chnage things. Once I was packed and ready to go I went to the bathroom and threw some toiletries into a bag. As I crossed back over to my room, John came to get me and held my mobile out to me.

"Um, someone called for you. I can't really understand them much," John told me and I frowned as I took the phone from him and raised it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked and my heart stopped as I heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hello? Is that all you are going to say to me? And who was that buffoon that answered your phone?" My father asked me quickly and I looked up at John as my face paled considerably. I hadn't heard from him in over seven years and now, now he decided to call me.

"Father please," I begged in a quiet voice that didn't even sound like my own and I heard someone behind me and I turned to find Sherlock glaring at me. I winced under his gaze before I realized that he wasn't glaring at me, but at my phone. "That was my flatmate John and don't call him that," I told my father gritting my teeth angrily.

"You ungrateful girl. I'll call him what I like. I ran into Thomas," My father said, sneering his name. "He said you are coming here. Is that true?" My father demanded of me and I nodded slightly.

"Yes, I'm leaving soon. Alistair is having me stay with him so you don't have to worry about me coming home," I assured my father figuring that that was what he was worrying about. He didn't have to worry. I had no wish to see him at all.

"That is the reason I've called you. You will not embarrass me by staying anywhere than in our family estate. If anyone was to hear of you staying anywhere else they would begin to ask questions. You will not be staying with Alistair, you will stay here in the castle. That is an order," My father told me, his voice dangerous and I knew that there was no room for argument. If I went against his wishes I would be worse off than if I complied with him.

"Fine. I'll stay there, but…," I said before I heard the click of him hanging up on me. I took in a deep breath before letting out an annoyed huff as I tried to calm down. Well, I hadn't gotten to tell him that I wasn't the only one coming, so I guess that would just be a surprise for him. "Ugh! I bloody hate that bastard!" I shouted and John jumped at my sudden outburst.

"That was your father?" John asked me carefully and I nodded at him as I contemplated throwing my mobile. Sherlock plucked it out of my hand before I could and I rounded on him, but saw that he was only watching me worriedly.

"Yes," I told John shortly.

"What did he want?" Sherlock asked me calmly and I took a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"He said, more like ordered, that I would be staying with him in our estate because no daughter of his would embarrass him," I told Sherlock bitterly and he surprised me by pulling me into a hug Which was a very up characteristic move for him.

"He knows nothing about you," Sherlock told me as he let go of me, breaking the hug as quickly as he had started it. "Those that don't understand us lash out to make themselves feel better," Sherlock told me and I nodded.

"Yes, but my father does more than lash out. I think it's better if I go alone now. He…," I said before John cut me off.

"Hang on, no. You aren't going alone," John told me and I turned to him to say something but he cut me off before I could. "You said before you don't get on well with your father right?" John asked me and I nodded at him slowly.

"Yes, but…," I told him and he carried on again.

"So, we're not going to let you go alone when the man who is like your father is dying and your real father is forcing you to stay with him," John told me and Sherlock surprised me by agreeing with him.

"Exactly. Mycroft is sending a car around for us and our flight leaves within the hour. He said he has the connecting flight from Dublin to Westport set up as well," Sherlock told me raising one eyebrow slightly. Of course he changed the subject and wouldn't let me tell him no. I sighed heavily.

"Fine, you can come with me," I told them and I smiled slightly at my boys. "And yes, Westport," I told Sherlock before I brushed past the two of them and went back into my room. I finished packing quickly and John came and lifted my bag for me. The three of us trudged down the stairs with our luggage and we met with Mrs. Hudson in the hall and told her we didn't know when we would be back. Mrs. Hudson gave me a tight hug when I told her why we were leaving and she finally let us go when we were going to be late for our flight.

I was thankful for Mycroft sending a car out to us. Allen put our bags into the bag seat and I slid into the cab only after making John sit next to Sherlock so that I would be sitting next to the army doctor instead. I missed the hurt look that Sherlock threw my way as the car pulled out into traffic. We got to Heathrow in plenty of time and the three of us dropped off our bags at the flight desk, being able to board the plan right after that due to Mycroft's connections. His name opened doors which meant that we got to bypass security. Mycroft had booked us first class seats and I was thankful for the fact that the seats were individual. I curled up in my seat and closed my eyes, hoping to sleep on the hour long flight. I heard John and Sherlock whispering behind me as I had sat so that John was behind me, not Sherlock. I caught a few words like, Lexi, distant, and worried, but I soon fell asleep.

I knew that they were talking about me but I honestly couldn't care if they were right now. I had far much more to worry about. I was touched that they hadn't let me take no for an answer and had come with me. I couldn't understand why Sherlock would even care, but it made me slightly hopeful that maybe…no, I was not going to go there. Our relationship was done and over with and I had to accept that fact. I was not going to take this as some sign. John was coming with me as a friend and thus Sherlock was also coming with me because he was a friend. That was all it was. I woke up from my nap when we hit a bit of turbulence and John appeared beside me as I woke up disoriented to see if I was alright.

"Fine," I told him shortly and he nodded before going to sit back down again. When the flight attendant came by again I took advantage of our first class seating and ordered a whiskey. I drank it slowly and let the alcohol relax me slightly. It wasn't nearly strong enough to relax me completely but it helped a bit with my nerves and to slow my brain down a little bit so that I could think straight. Right now I needed to keep it together.

When we landed in Dublin, Sherlock stuck close by my side while John hung back a little ways behind us, not meeting my eyes when I looked over at him. Every time I tried to move closer to John, Sherlock moved with me or John suddenly had some reason why he had to move away from us. I raised my eyebrow and bit my cheek slightly in frustration as it seemed that they were purposely doing this. They were up to something. That or I was just paranoid. We waited in the terminal for our luggage and while we were waiting I quickly texted Mycroft to let him know that we had safely landed in Dublin. He texted back to let me know that I was all set for as much time away as I needed and that Bond Air would continue when I returned. He also texted me the details for our connecting flight. I texted Thomas after Mycroft and told him of the change in plans and that we just had our connecting flight and a short ride before we would be settled. Within moments of me sending him the text message Thomas called me.

"Thomas, it's fine," I assured him as soon as I answered the phone, knowing what he had called about already.

"Tis not fine. Alistair would have my head if I let you stay there," Thomas told me and I shook my head as Sherlock pulled my suitcase off of the luggage belt. I looked over at John and ran my free hand through my messed up hair and sighed heavily. John threw me a concerned look but I waved him off to let him know I was alright.

"Aye, it'll be fine. Sherlock and John are with me. He'll be better behaved with them there," I said, trying to convince Thomas and myself. I was very nervous about seeing my father again and rightly so. I hadn't seen or spoken to the man in over seven years. The last time I had seen him was when I went home to see Alistair a few months before I moved to London. The visit hadn't gone to well and that was when I was told I was being disowned because I was moving to London and starting a consulting business. The only reason my father was having me stay with him was not because he missed me and it wasn't just because he thought I would embarrass him if anyone found out that his daughter was staying with someone else rather than in her own home. No, this was about control, what it had always been about. He wanted to control my life and having me stay with him meant that he had that control over me again.

"I don't like it," Thomas told me and I sighed heavily again as John and Sherlock found the rest of our luggage.

"Neither do I, but I don't have a choice in the matter. Tell Alistair that we'll be coming to see him first thing in the morning. By the time we get in my father's going to be a nightmare as I'm sure you can imagine. Don't tell Alistair I'm bringing John and Sherlock though, I want that to be a surprise," I told Thomas and Sherlock and John rounded on me and gave me equal looks of confusion as I grinned back at them. Alistair was going to love them and if he was as big of a fan of John's blog as Thomas made him out to be, he would no doubt enjoy meeting the man who wrote it. I wanted this to be a happy visit, not a sad one.

"Aye, I will. Tell the bastard to shove it for me," Thomas told me and I snorted before letting out a laugh that I couldn't contain.

"I could tell him where he could shove it," I joked and Thomas laughed at that before I hung up the phone and looked at my boys. Despite everything that had happened between us, they were still my boys and that would never change.

"Everything alright?" John asked me and I nodded at him.

"Just peachy," I answered him before taking my suitcase and dragging it behind me as I led the boys through the airport.

I knew me way through here well and John had only been to this airport once with me when we flew into Dublin before the Irene case. That seemed like a life time ago now. That was back when everything had been going right in my life for once. I was keeping my answers short for now as I was trying to keep myself together. I wasn't fine. I was so far from fine right now, but I had to keep it together because Alistair needed me right now and so did Thomas. Thomas and I weren't very close, but we got on very well. To be honest, I didn't know Thomas well enough. Alistair adopted him when he was twenty three. I had been twenty at the time and living with Mary in Dublin. I met him of course when I visited Alistair at the holidays but we never specifically bonded. I guess that was partially my fault because I was in Dublin and then I moved to London. Mary and I would stay for the holidays as she didn't have any family of her own as she was an orphan. Alistair always referred to me as his daughter in conversations and I called him Dad unlike my own father. I only ever called my biological father, Father. We were very formal in my house growing up and I was referred to as daughter or Alexandria. Alistair couldn't adopt me officially of course, but if anyone was ever my father it was him. Only he deserved that title. Thomas and his partner Darrin lived with Alistair which was good for him. I didn't like thinking of him living all alone.

I found the flight desk that Mycroft told me to go to and I mentioned Mycroft's name to the woman behind the desk. She jumped up immediately and told us she had gotten a call ahead about the three of us. She treated us like we were royalty as she handed us our second boarding passes and we handed over our bags to her so they could be put onto our next flight. The way she kept eyeing the three of us made me believe that maybe she had heard about us before. I was proven right when she asked if Sherlock and I were the detectives from that blog. I told her that we were and she grinned madly and told us how everyone was reading it and that they were especially proud of me, having an Irish girl in the mix. I laughed at that and told her that the boys needed an Irish woman to keep them in line. The boys had shuffled awkwardly at that and the woman was so excited that she personally escorted us to our flight gate. We parted, the two of us saying goodbye in Gaelic before we boarded our next flight. Mycroft had gotten us a small, private plane that would take us from Dublin to Westport which was on the opposite coast from Dublin. He had pulled some strings for us. Normally you couldn't fly from Dublin to Westport, but Mycroft probably understood that I didn't want to sit on a train or a bus for three hours with his brother. It was in the best interest of everyone if we flew there. There was a private airstrip just outside the city limits where we would land. Mycroft used his government ties to get us access to it. That and he had told them I was an MI6 agent on official business. From the airstrip we had about a forty five minute to an hour drive from outside the city to the country side where I lived. Westport was the closest we could get.

I sat next to Sherlock on this flight over and I watched the green hills of my Mother country pass by underneath us as we flew overhead. I pointed out some of the things I recognized to John and Sherlock, a grin growing on my face. It was nice to be back in Ireland. I missed the Emerald Isle. As much as I loved living in London in the heart of the city, there was something about the calm country side of Ireland that you couldn't help but long for. Out on the moors or on the cliffs by the sea you could almost believe that magic could exist. As a child I would run about the green fields like a wildling and there was a sense of freedom, being able to run across all that open space. I had dropped my British accent as soon as we landed in Dublin. My father would break a blood vessel if he heard me speaking in anything but my native Irish brogue and it was hard not to fall back into using it when everyone around me was talking that way too. As a girl I learned Gaelic and English. I came from an old family and my father preferred to speak Gaelic in the house. Alistair taught me Latin as a girl, saying it was the building block of practically any language. It was Alistair who taught me my acting skills and how to speak in different accents. He was a radio actor back in the day, but I knew he also wrote books now. It was how I had gotten into writing when I had stopped being a detective. Alistair was also the reason behind why I grew up with a British accent and with an Irish one. As soon as I went off to Uni I started using my British accent, only slipping into my natural Irish one on occasion. Now it was second nature to speak in a British accent. Alistair was actually Lord Alistair of Belmory and he had moved to Ireland about the same time my Mum had married my dad and come to live here instead of in her native country.

Once we landed about another hour and a half later, we waited patiently on the air strip for them to unload our luggage before John and Sherlock loaded it all into the Range Rover that Mycroft had rented for us. Then came the question of who was driving which was quickly settled by me since I was the only one who knew where we were going. John and Sherlock fought over who got to sit up front, a fight which Sherlock lost. He sulked in the back seat as John smiled smugly from the passenger's seat. I sighed in exasperation, reminding myself to thank Mycroft later for pulling some strings for me. There was no way I could have lasted with the both of them on a three hour train ride. I pointed out various places to Sherlock and John as we road through the town of Westport and I found myself smiling slightly. It was nice to see the familiar pubs and restaurants around the town. I grew up here and no matter where I went, this place would always be a part of me. It was here that I grew up and first discovered my love for consulting which Alistair and my Granddad cultivated. As we passed out of the main city, we hit open fields of the country side. I looked back at Sherlock a few times in the rear-view mirror and instead of sulking, he was watching the country side pass by us outside the windows.

After a while I turned off the main gravel road and onto the less travelled dirt road. In about three miles we got the first glimpse of the stone peaks of the castle. Alistair's estate was just a few miles down the main road. My family castle was built near a large lake and the rolling hills of the main lawn had been where I escaped to in my youth. The castle wasn't extremely large. There were four towers and a walk way that connected them on the roof. I sighed when I saw the castle come into view. It had been the home of the MacKenna line for centuries. Apparently it had survived several sieges. I didn't care much what it had survived. I never liked the place as a child and as an adult it still looked imposing, even in the late afternoon light.

"Is that a castle?" John asked me in shock and I grinned slightly as I continued up the dirt road. I looked back at Sherlock who didn't look too surprised to learn that this is where I had grown up. Of course he would have expected it as I had said my father was a Lord and head of the clan MacKenna.

"Aye," I said at the same time that Sherlock said, "Obviously." I smirked slightly at that, not able to help myself and I saw Sherlock smirking slightly as we locked eyes in the rear view mirror. "Welcome to Castle MacKenna," I told the boys with fake enthusiasm as I pulled up into the circular courtyard in front of the castle and parked the car, turning off the engine. "Don't expect a warm welcome," I warned the boys as I sat back in my seat and took a deep, calming breath.

"This is where you grew up?" John asked me as he stared up at the castle outside of the window and I turned to look at him.

"Yup," I told him, popping the p sound at the end of the word before I opened my door and got out of the car. Sherlock followed me out and a minute later John finally managed to get over his surprise and get out himself, still looking rather shocked. "Oh bloody hell, yes, I grew up in a castle John. Ireland is full of them, so is England" I told John, patting him on the arm as we got our luggage out of the car. "It's not as glamorous as it seems. They more drafty than anything else," I told John who shook his head at me.

We lugged all of our luggage up to the large double doors of the castle and I raised the brass door knocker before knocking three times on the oak door. I stood back and waited and within a few minutes the door was answered by an older gentleman with white hair and kind eyes which lit up as soon as he saw me. **(A/N I picture him as Sir Michael Caine.) **I heard a loud excited bark come from behind him and before I could process it a large bloodhound came bounding out of the front door, yipping excitedly around my ankles as I crouched down and let him lick my face as I giggled, the older man laughing along with me. I rubbed the grown pup's side down and patted his floppy ears affectionately. He had grown so much since the last time I had seen him.

"Bayard," I greeted the dog before I stood up and hugged the older man. "Dougal. Oh, it's so nice to see you again," I told the man as he released me from the hug and held onto my hands as he looked me over. John and Sherlock watched our exchange from just behind me and Bayard decided to give them a greeting as well as he started dancing around excitedly in front of Sherlock and John, his tail wagging madly as he barked excitedly at the boys. "Down Bayard, sit," I told the dog and I was surprised when Sherlock bent down and patted him on the top of the head when the bloodhound sat down obediently at his feet.

"It's grand to have you home again my dear. Look how you've grown. The last time I saw you, your hair was short," Dougal said as he took in the sight of my very long hair. "You look more like your mother with every passing year," He told me as I smiled back at him. Dougal was a proper English butler and my father had employed him for this reason. "Thomas called ahead and let us know that your friends were also coming along. Your father didn't mention that to us. Agatha's gotten your rooms ready in the West Wing," Dougal told me as he let go of my hands.

"That's because he didn't give me time to tell him before he hung up on me," I told Dougal who nodded at me in understanding. He might work for my father, but he never once agreed with how he treated me. In fact, Dougal and Agatha our maid looked out for me a lot as a child. We only ever had Dougal and Agatha as part of the household staff. Agatha cooked and cleaned the castle while Dougal basically waited on my father's every whim. The only reason the two stayed on was first because they refused to leave me alone with my father and second because he actually paid them pretty well. Dougal and Agatha were married and lived in the castle as well.

"I thought as much," Dougal told me with a sigh as he ushered the three of us inside. John and Sherlock carried in our luggage as I wrestled Bayard back inside. Bayard was technically my father's dog and was supposed to be a hunting dog, but he had always been mine. He was a big baby and now he was very old so Dougal took care of him as my father had no use for him anymore.

We were led into the grand Entrance Hall which was larger than our entire flat. The main staircase that led into the upper levels of the castle were carpeted in a deep red, rich carpet. The Entrance Hall was elaborately decorated with tapestries of our family crest and full medieval suits of armour. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, made of iron and candles which had been converted to electric ones. The castle was slightly drafty due to the fact that it was entirely made of stone. As soon as I stepped through the front doors and into the castle all of the bad memories of my childhood returned. To me this castle had always been more like a dungeon. John and Sherlock looked around the entrance hall as Dougal had them drop our luggage near the stairs. I told Bayard to go and lay down and he bounded off in the direction of the kitchen, most likely to try and weasel a treat out of Agatha.

I heard footsteps and I looked up to see my father who had stopped at the top of the stair case as he looked down at me, his lips drawn into a hard line. His gaze flicked over to Sherlock and John and I saw a dangerous look flash in his eyes. My father was a rather tall man, in fact I had gotten my height from him. I was thankful that that was all I had inherited from him. Standing at 5'11 my father was a rather imposing man. His hair used to be brown but now it was grey and cut in a very business-like way. His shoulders were broad and as always he was wearing his kilt and full regalia. He took our family heritage rather seriously. His black eyes stared down at me unkindly and I felt like a child again under his gaze as I shuffled uncomfortably. I shuddered suddenly when his eyes reminded me of Moriarty's. I had gotten my looks from my mother, in fact I looked just like her which was one of the reason why my father hated me.

"Father," I said, keeping my tone light as he stared down at me and I saw John shift uncomfortably beside me. Sherlock on the other hand had his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed on my father. I prayed that he would keep his mouth closed just this once. I noticed then that his jaw was tight as if he was clenching his teeth.

"Daughter who are these people?" My father asked me as he started down the stairs. Though the way he asked the question sounded calm, I could see the dangerous look in his eyes and I swallowed thickly as I met his harsh gaze and tried not to flinch under it.

"Um… father…," I started before he interrupted me as he stood a few feet from the three of us.

"Speak up when you are talking to me!" My father barked at me and I nodded at him, looking down at me feet. "And look and me when I am talking to you," My father ordered and I quickly looked up at him and met his gaze.

"Yes father," I answered him quickly. "This is Sherlock Holmes, he is a consultant for Scotland Yard and John Watson, a retired army doctor," I introduced the boys as my father looked over them before sticking his nose up.

"I didn't tell you that you could bring anyone with you," My father told me coldly and I nodded at him slightly as I bit my lip nervously.

"I know father, but Alistair wanted to meet them," I told my father cautiously, keeping my voice steady.

"You've forgotten that I run things around here, but what's done is done. Go upstairs and change. You look like a vagrant," My father ordered me and I nodded at him as he looked over at John and Sherlock and sneered once before he swept off towards his study as soon as he left I let out a breath I hadn't know I was holding and I looked over at John and Sherlock to see them fighting against barely contained rage. Sherlock's jaw was tight and his hands were balled up into fists, as were John's, both men looking like they were ready to hit something.

"Come on my dear," Dougal told me as he led me over to the stairs and I went to pick up my suitcase, but Sherlock beat me to it. "I'll show you up to your rooms," Dougal told us and John and Sherlock grabbed our luggage before he climbed the stairs and Dougal led us to the West Wing.

He opened the first door to what used to be my old bedroom and told me that was where I would be staying. I left the boys, thankful for a few minutes alone. Neither of them looked happy to be leaving me, but Sherlock left my bag with me in my room. As soon as I shut the door I pulled bag onto my double bed. My room was exactly the way I had left it, stacks of books and papers strewn about and Chemistry equipment on a table in the corner. The West Wing had been entirely mine while growing up because it was on the opposite side of the castle as my father's quarters and he wanted me as far away from him as was possible. The library was located in the West Wing so I had spent most of my time there. I quickly pulled a nice, classy green dress from my bag and I changed into it and found a pair of heels to replace my trainers. I sat down at my old dresser to fix my hair when I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called as I pulled my brush through my hair and the door opened as Sherlock and John came in. John was wearing his oatmeal jumper and jeans now and Sherlock had removed his coat and scarf to reveal his customary suit.

"You shouldn't let him talk to you like that," John told me angrily and I sighed heavily as I turned back to the mirror and started twisting my hair up into an elegant bun. I watched both men in the mirror and Sherlock's jaw was still tight and John's hands were still clenched into fits.

"That's the way it's always been John and I don't expect anything different," I told him as I stood up and turned back to him. "And that is why I don't come back home and why I left as soon as I could," I told John, shaking my head as I crossed over to my bed and zipped up my suitcase before setting it off to the side. "Just…don't worry about it. I'm used to it," I told them, brushing it off.

"You shouldn't have to be," Sherlock told me and I looked up at him and shrugged.

"And what do you suggest I do? He's not going to change. He's always been this way and he always will be. I've accepted that fact," I told the boys before sighing heavily. "We should head down. It's nearly six and father always has dinner promptly at that time. We can't afford to be late," I told them as I pushed past them and then turned back. "Come on," I told them before I led them back through the halls to the staircase. Dougal walked into the Entrance Hall just as we started down the stairs.

"Good, I was just about to come and get you. Dinner is being served," Dougal told me and I nodded at him, giving him a small smile.

"Thank you," I told him before I led John and Sherlock to the dining room which was just off the Entrance Hall in a room equally as grand. A large table stood in the middle of the room and my father was already sitting at the head of the table. Three other place settings had been laid out in the middle of the table and I sat down at one of them, Sherlock sitting beside me as John sat across from us. I could tell that my father was keeping me as far from him as possible. That was obvious. I nodded at my father as I sat down and he looked me over with a critical eye, apparently not liking my outfit.

"It will do," He told me before he looked over at John and Sherlock. "As for these vagabonds, I would have rather thought you would have seen to it that they were properly dressed. I'm disappointed in you Alexandria," My father told me and I looked down as Dougal brought in our food, a lamb stew that Agatha had made for us.

"I'm sorry father," I said as I looked up at him and flinched under his cold gaze.

"What did you say they did?" My father asked me as he started eating. I picked up my spoon and carefully took a bite as John watched me, flicking his gaze over to my father and glaring at him coldly. Sherlock moved his hand and took my hand which was resting on my leg under the table in his and gave it a comforting squeeze. I cleared my throat before answering my father.

"Sherlock is a consulting detective for Scotland Yard, we work together and John is a retired military doctor," I told my father who raised his eyebrow in a way that made me flinch.

"And how did you come to meet them?" My father asked me and I knew that was a loaded question.

"We met through mutual friends," Sherlock said before I could answer him. Sherlock's voice was cold and my father looked over at him darkly and I held my breath, not knowing what might happen next. "We were all looking for a flatmate," Sherlock added and my father's look grew steadily darker.

"You live with these men?" My father spat at me as I put down my spoon, forgetting about my stew as my stomach twisted into knots, Sherlock and John having ignored their own stew in their anger as they watched my father and I. I nodded timidly and my father put his spoon down and that was when the yelling began. "I didn't raise you to be some filthy whore. You disgrace our family name," My father shouted at me and I filched as I sunk down in my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. John looked about ready to leap out of his seat and attack my father and I kicked him under the table. He turned to me, his expression stormy as I held Sherlock's hand tightly to keep him from jumping up as well. "You stupid, foolish girl. Get out of my sight!" My father roared at me and I nodded before quickly pushing back my chair. John and Sherlock both stood as well and I hurried out of the room, the boys following after me. As soon as I hit the Entrance Hall I started running up the stairs, heading back to the West Wing as the tears finally started running down my cheeks. As soon as I got back to my room I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me before I slowly slid down the door and sat on the floor, curling up as I brought my knees to my chest and cried. I had thought now that I was older that things might be different. I had dared to hope that maybe since he hadn't seen me in so long that things would be different, but they never would be. Nothing would ever be different with him. Stupid and foolish that was what he always called me until I started to believe it myself.

A knock came at my door and I tilted my head back to look at it. "Go away!" I shouted, knowing that it was the boys. I didn't want to see them right now.

"Lexi?" John asked sounding worried. "Please let us in," John said as he tried the doorknob to find that I had locked the door.

"No, go away!" I shouted again and I heard John sigh before I heard Sherlock mutter something to him. The sound of their retreating footsteps reached my ears and I pulled myself up slightly before I crawled over to my bed and dropped down onto it, not even caring about my dress. I curled up into the fetal positon after kicking off my shoes and taking my hair out of its bun, crying into the comforter on my bed. I looked up when I heard the sound of a door opening and I turned around in bed, wiping my eyes quickly as part of the wall opened, revealing John and Sherlock, the consulting detective carrying a tray of food as John carried three glasses and a large bottle of whiskey. "How did…?" I asked the boys as I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed as Sherlock put the tray of food on the end of my bed. Stew and Irish soda bread along with bread pudding.

"Dougal told us about the secret connecting door," John told me as he put the three glasses down on my Chemistry table.

"I thought I told you to go away," I told the boys as I stood up and looked at them both.

"Well yeah you did, but when does Sherlock ever listen?" John asked me and I couldn't help the slight smirk that worked its way onto my face.

"True," I said before I looked away from them.

"Lexi," Sherlock said and I looked around to him as he walked over to me and lifted my chin with his had so that I was forced to look at him. "Don't you dare listen to a word your father told you," Sherlock told me and I shook my head. "He is a dim wit with less brain cells than Anderson if he can't see how brilliant you are. It's not worth listening to his vile uneducated filth," Sherlock told me and I sighed heavily as I slapped his hand away from my face and walked away.

"He's right though," I told Sherlock bitterly. I was stupid and foolish for having thought that I could have interested Sherlock in anyway.

"No, he isn't. He is the world's largest arsehole. Lexi, you're smart, you're beautiful, and he has no right to talk to you like that. You aren't a child any more. You don't have to take listen to him anymore," John told me and I nodded at him slowly. "He doesn't control you anymore," John added as he picked up the bottle of whiskey and opened it. "So," John said as he poured a glass and handed it to me. "Tonight, we are going to drink and eat this lovely smelling stew and you are going to forget about what that bastard said," John told me and I smiled slightly at that as he poured a second glass and handed it to Sherlock who surprised me by taking it. "Of course, this stuff is probably a lot stronger than I'm used to," John said as he poured himself a glass and picked it up. "Come on, we're the Baker Street Irregulars. You've punched a murder in the face, fought an assassin, faced a bloody psychopath, and took out CIA trained killers. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met and that bastard isn't worth your time," John told me and I smiled genuinely at him before I took a big sip of my whiskey and grinned as John tried to do the same and end up coughing.

"Thank you," I told John, giving the army doctor a hug. "Both of you," I said, hugging Sherlock as well. He didn't have to say anything. The mere fact that he was here was enough. I looked at my boys and smiled slightly. They were right. I was thirty- one years old. I was not the frightened child I had been when I was younger. My father did not control my life and I didn't have to listen to him anymore. I chased after serial killers and murderers on a weekly basis and I was so much stronger than the last time I had seen my father. I wasn't alone anymore and for once in my life I had finally found a place where I belonged and people who cared about me and nothing my father could ever say would ever change that because he couldn't take that from me. He couldn't take anything from me again because I was Lexi MacKenna, consulting detective, and I was so much more than what I seemed.


	64. Sorrow & Hope

**Hello sweeties!**

**So... this week I'm sort of chapter dumping on you. I just finished chapter two of Their Last Vow, started the third one, so I only have two chapters left before my writing goes on hiatus for this story. After that I am focusing on my two oneshot series A Different Sort of Goldfish and Windows Into Baker Street and then my Torchwood/Sherlock crossover one shot and my Cabin Pressure/Sherlock crossover one shot. That is the plan. I'm sure you don't mind the extra chapters. I have a bit of a stomach flu so blah. I actually am supposed to be in classes today but I stayed home instead to rest and get better and eat a delicious stew my Mum made to make me feel better and of course watch Sherlock and write. Might actually sketch a bit later. So, here is the plan for the rest of the week for chapters. You get a mini chapter tomorrow which is another John's blog post, a chapter on Friday, a chapter on Saturday and I think that means we conclude this case next week. Which is good because I can't stand to have my babies fighting anymore. I'm powering through this case now too because I know it is killing you all and I checked my chapter inventory *Lexi does a hack of my computer and pulls it up, checking the files***

**Lexi: Yup we have enough chapters.**

**Yeah I know, I have enough chapters to post a few extra right now. Here is the deal. As soon as I finish writing the last two chapters of Their Last Vow, I have no more cases to write. *depressed sigh* The story goes on hiatus on my end until season four. Of course you get a whole bunch of lovely one shots during that time which include as many fluff filled prompts I can think off to hold us over until Lexi and Lock can come back with more kick arse cases. Once I finish writing the cases, I'm going to make them last but I'm not going to make you wait forever so I am going to be redoing the posting. Instead of two chapters a week I am increasing it to three. One on Tuesday, one on Thursday, and one on Saturday? Sound good? Probably does and there is probably a lot of squealing.**

**John: *rushes through the door of Baker Street and slams it shut before panting* Why were there people chasing me?"**

**Mels: Oh good you found the fans. They're probably just excited. Toss them a few cookies, they deserve them. They've all been so very brilliant lately and just so amazing. **

**You have been! I just love you all. Haha by the way, the last chapter name was based off of the song Abigail's Song from Doctor Who. I love it and I keep singing it lately. **

**So... before we get into the chapter let me just clear up a confusing point that was brought up to me. Thomas was 23 when Alistair adopted him and Lexi was 20 at the time. Thomas was an orphan and Alistair met him when Thomas was studying to be an actor. Alistair took him under his wing. Now Alistair couldn't adopt Lexi but her officially adopted Thomas even if the lad was over 18 because, having no children of his own, if Alistair died, he would have no one to pass his title and his lands too. Thomas will therefore become Lord of Belmory upon Alistair's passing and he will also see to it that Lexi gets whatever Alistair intended for Lexi to have in his will. Alistair was basically the kindhearted...yeah, he is just brilliant. I wanted to do more with his character but he never fit anywhere with the series so I gave him this, this proper moment where we got to see how great of a man he was and how much he influenced Lexi's life. **

**Now as for Lexi, you are probably all wondering two things. Why is her dad so terrible and why is she being so stupid about Sherlock? Well to answer the first, I've never made it a secret that over a year ago I found out I was going blind. Actually I'm not going blind, I am blind. It's medically been stated that I am legally blind. It was really horrible news for me and I ended up putting myself down a lot. I faced a lot of insecurities and Lexi's father is the physical representation of that. If you notice he verbally abuses Lexi, calls her stupid and worthless and that was often how I felt. But John and Sherlock stand up for Lexi as a representation of how I am now standing up to that inner voice and saying no. I got a really brilliant moment at the end of this series where her father is once again included and well, not to give it all away but Lexi finally stands up to him herself. I guess it is my way of saying at the end of this story for now, I can finally stand up to the inner voice and tell it to shove off. **

**Secondly Lexi's stupidity over Sherlock relates back to her father. He called her worthless, a freak, stupid...so many times that she started to believe him and she started to believe that no one could ever love her. When she met Sherlock and John they were the first people to accept her completely. Even Mycroft didn't understand her fully at times. And Sherlock thought she was the most beautiful thing in the word and intelligent and she was no longer and outcast or if she was they were outcasts together. I've been asked if it is difficult to write Sherlock in character and it never is. I understand him completely and it's funny but I never find it hard to write him. I know what it is like to be the outcast, to be a bit different, or to see the world a bit differently. I see it differently all the time. I see it as stories. So maybe I can't deduce like Sherlock but in a way I am a Consulting Detective. I understand Sherlock Holmes and even in the old stories he was the one character I thought was sort of a hero without being one. He's brilliant and well...brainy is after all the new sexy. Now I won't keep you longer. I will warn you this chapter is a bit sad. That's the general theme of Scandal in Belgravia. So FEELS ALERT and ALLONS-Y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Two- Sorrow and Hope<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

The boys and I settled in for the night and I was glad that I had them here with me. They kept me anchored and reminded me that I never had to go back to this life again. They reminded me that I had Baker Street which had become my home. That I had Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft, and my boys who all had become my family. Sherlock got a fire going in my fireplace to take the chill out of the room and I changed into a pair of Sherlock's sweatpants and one of John's jumpers, both men handing them over to me. I had shaken my head at the pair of them as they smirked at me knowingly. The three of us sat in front of the fire eating the food that Agatha had sent up to us. It reminded me a bit of when I was a child and I would eat in my room instead of coming downstairs. The phrase seen and not heard was definitely a representation of my childhood though not seen and not heard was a better example. I laughed light-heartedly as I let the boys cheer me up and my thoughts about Irene and my doubts about Sherlock vanished. I let the consulting detective play with my hair as we sat in front of the fire and I missed the relieved looks that John and Sherlock shared over the top of my head as I leaned against him.

I should have known that it was going to be a bad idea before I suggested it but I hunted up my old game of Cluedo and convinced the boys to play with me. It started off alright, but then it quickly turned into madness. Sherlock and John started arguing over the rules of the game as Sherlock was convinced that the victim had killed himself. John argued against that saying it wasn't possible because it wasn't in the rules which sent Sherlock into a sulk as he complained to me that the rules were wrong and that I should tell John he was right. I sat back and drank my whiskey as I watched my boys before I dissolved into a fit of giggles over just how ridiculous we all were. The boys stopped arguing to turn and look at me and their looks made me laugh more as John took my tumbler of whiskey away from me. When I finally calmed down I hugged the both of them tightly before I got up and walked over to my bed, plopping down on top of it before I curled up under the sheets. John decided to head off to bed as we were heading out early to go and see Alistair. Sherlock lingered behind after John had left the room and I could see a silent question burning in his eyes as I watched him from over the top of my comforter.

He looked between me and the door, shuffling slightly on his feet and I lifted my comforter in silent invitation. Sherlock sheepishly walked over to my bed and kicked of his shoes and took off his jacket, laying it over my desk chair before he climbed into the bed next to me. I pulled the blanket over the both of us and I laid my head on Sherlock's chest as he sat up. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to sleep right now. I listened to the steady beating of Sherlock's heart under my ear. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe there was still a chance that he cared. We had gotten through worse than Irene together, so why was I giving in to her now? Who ever said that I couldn't be happy because of her? Sherlock still had to care for me, at least a little, if he wanted to stay with me. Not once since we had gotten here had he gotten a text from Irene. So, maybe just maybe, I could have an actual chance at happiness. While I had thrown my walls back up again that Sherlock had slowly broken down, they were cracking just a little bit as I tried to let him in again. Sometimes you had to risk heartbreak and if anyone was worth that risk it was Sherlock. I fell asleep to the steady beat of Sherlock's heart as he hummed lowly, the sound reverberating in his chest as he played with the ends of my hair gently. What I didn't know was that as I fell asleep, Sherlock began to hope that maybe he hadn't lost me completely as he was starting to think he had.

**Sherlock's POV**

As Lexi fell asleep, looking peaceful for the first time in a while, Sherlock let out a long sigh of frustration. Something was wrong with Lexi, but he couldn't tell what and neither could John. It had all begun the day after they met Irene Adler and since then it had steady gotten worse. Lexi had become distant. She had moved back into her own room without even giving him an explanation which had been the first sign that something was wrong. No, actually the first sign had been when Mycroft had come over to call them off the case. She had been quiet all morning and hardly looked at either him or John and then when Mycroft came over she had smiled and perked up slightly. That had been the first sign. She told Mycroft that she had told him something, but he failed to listen to her. So, what exactly had she told him in their private meeting? Sherlock had tried to find that out from Mycroft when Lexi refused to answer the question, but his brother also told him nothing. Sherlock could hear her at night in the throes of a night mare so that meant that the nightmares hadn't stopped which was the only probable cause that Sherlock could think of, of her not continuing to sleep next to him. He missed her being beside him. There was something calming in hearing her breathing beside him in the quiet of his room that finally allowed him to quiet his mind and get some much needed rest.

Lately she had been avoiding him completely. He had run an experiment to see if she was consciously avoiding him, only to find that she was. The closer he got to her, the more she moved away from him and went towards John. Lexi had begun disappearing every day as well. Sherlock had his Homeless Network follow her only to find that she spent the entire day at Mycroft's office before she returned to the flat at night. When she was in the flat there was a level of tension between them all. John wanted to ask her what was wrong but Sherlock told him off of this idea. Sherlock was at a loss at what he might have done that would have upset her as he could only conclude that she was upset. He didn't want to risk upsetting her more by saying something wrong. She acted like she was completely fine but Sherlock knew her better than that. He asked himself the question of why she was spending so much time with Mycroft lately. Sherlock wondered if it was possible that his worst fear had come true and Lexi had already grown tired of him and wanted more than he was able to give her. Maybe she and Mycroft…? No! No, he refused to accept that or even consider that fact. He refused to even consider the possibility that she would choose Mycroft over him.

The fact remained however that there was something terribly wrong with his Lexi. Sherlock noted that her mood seemed to get worse every time his phone made that noise that meant that Irene had texted him. She had texted him a total of twenty three times over the past week, mostly during the day but a good part of them came in at night. Lexi would freeze for a moment when she heard it before she would get up and leave the room if she happened to be in the same room as Sherlock. So, whatever was wrong with her was connected to Irene. That made Sherlock despised Irene all the more as she was the cause behind this change. Lexi rarely laughed or smiled anymore. It was as if someone had replaced his bright and happy Lexi with the cold, unfeeling Lexi he had seen interacting with Irene. Sherlock had purposely turned off his phone as soon as they left London in the hopes that maybe he could use their time away from the city to get his Lexi back. Though the man she saw as a father was dying, perhaps he might know how to get her back to her old self. Mycroft was no help at all. He refused to tell Sherlock anything about what had happened before when Lexi met Irene. Sherlock was sure that this was connected to that. The women had eyed each other which such a deep seated hatred that Sherlock was sure he had never seen anything like it before.

That was Sherlock's goal, to find his Lexi again and since they had arrived here, he was starting to see a little bit of her again. Sherlock was beyond enraged at Lexi's father. That he should call her such names Sherlock was fuming. John had been ready to go and find her father and tell him what for but Sherlock managed to get him to steer away from that course of action and get the army doctor focusing on taking care of Lexi again. Sherlock refused to waste brain cells on trying to reason with the man that dared think of himself as Lexi's father. It became apparent to Sherlock that Lexi's childhood was far less happy than even she made it out to be. Up until this point Sherlock hadn't realized the extent of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of that man. That she had been able to leave him and this life Sherlock was most grateful to her grandfather and Alistair for helping her achieve. Sherlock would not leave this place without first having Mycroft see to it that the man was properly dealt with. He doubted that Lexi had told Mycroft everything as well.

Sherlock looked around Lexi's childhood room in the glowing light of the dying fire and he smiled slightly as he thought of a younger Lexi sitting at her Chemistry table, her nose stuck in a book as she conducted her experiments. There were many books stacked up around her room which only suggested to Sherlock that her love of books had started at an early age. Sherlock had found book as his own quiet escape from the world when he was a boy. To lose oneself in a novel was to dream of a different existence. Careful not to jostle Lexi, Sherlock carefully leaned over and slid the top drawer of her nightstand open. The only thing inside was a scrapbook and Sherlock carefully pulled it out before resting it on his lap, thankful for the light the fireplace provided as Lexi was passed out like dead weight upon him and had shifted in her sleep so she was lying on his arm instead. He looked down at her fondly as she curled up in the fetal position beside him, her face relaxed in sleep as her mind was free from whatever was bothering her conscious mind.

The front of the scrapbook had a picture of Lexi on it or at least Sherlock assumed it was Lexi. The picture was of a smiling toddler of at least two with copper tuffs of hair and bright hazel eyes. She was wearing a green romper and an older man in his thirties had her on his lap and was smiling down at her fondly. The man in the picture was not her father and Sherlock concluded that this must be Alistair. His hair was a light brown, his eyes hazel like Lexi's and kind looking, slightly wrinkled at the corners as he smiled down at the toddler. **(A/N For a visual he looks like Roger Rees.) **The cover of the scrapbook had the initials A.A.E.M. on the front cover and Sherlock frowned before opening the book. On the inside page was the name Alexandria Amelia Elspeth MacKenna and later underneath it written in more flowing script than the crayon written name was Lexi MacKenna. Sherlock looked down at the Irish girl asleep beside him and grinned ruefully. She had two first names like him. Sherlock flipped the page and was met with a picture of a baby, a very cute baby at that and written on the page was her name and birth weight along with her birthday, February 12th 1983. Sherlock stored that information away in his Lexi wing of his Mind Palace. They had met at the end of February, just after her birthday. The script was not Lexi's and judging from it, it was either Alistair's or her grandfathers. There was also a picture of a woman who looked remarkably like Lexi on the opposite page and Sherlock could see the resemblance. She did look incredibly like her mother except for the eyes, her mother had blue eyes. The name under the picture was Imogen MacKenna nee Williams. Her mother was British as he recalled.

Seeing her mother's picture, Sherlock could tell that her mother had not been much older than Lexi was now when she had died. Lexi had said she died giving birth to her. On the next page were pictures of a one year old Lexi, her eyes hazel this time around and a bit of hair starting to grow in. Her grandfather was in a few of these pictures with her as the man looked like his son, only a kinder, older version. Alistair was also in these pictures. Sherlock flipped through the book, watching Lexi grow in front of him as he got to pictures of her at five, her hair hanging in curls down to her shoulders and a bright smile on her face as she sat behind a large book. Sherlock flipped ahead to ten when Lexi was a very beautiful young girl. Her hair was down to the middle of her back in this picture and she was standing with a smoking beaker in one hand and looked like she had been captured in the middle of a laugh. At age twelve, the book started to get filled with Lexi's captions for pictures. There were pictures of her at the University of Edinburgh, along with pictures of her and her viola. From there Sherlock watched as the twelve year old became fifteen, growing into a young woman and showing off her first Doctorate as she graduated. At sixteen there were pictures of her with her second and at eighteen with her third. From twelve to eighteen she grew taller and her hair grew even redder until it was the bright copper she possessed now. Freckles covered eighteen year old Lexi's face and flip ahead to nineteen and she looked no different than she did today. There was a picture of her standing next to a blonde woman, the two with their faces smushed together as they grinned. Possibly this was the Mary she spoke of.

The last few pages switched back to Alistair's handwriting and contained pictures of Lexi at twenty with shorter hair, only to her shoulders now and then pictures of her at twenty three with the caption, First Case! She was scowling in this picture with her arms crossed and her eyebrow slightly lifted. The last picture on the page was of Lexi at age twenty four with a black haired woman who was giving her a side long look in the middle of an airport terminal. Obviously this was when she had left for London. There were no more pictures after that and Sherlock found himself hoping that maybe she had more of herself from twenty- five to thirty-one. The Lexi in the later pictures had seemed so carefree and happy. Missing from every single one of them was the man who claimed to be her father but Alistair was in nearly every single one. Sherlock closed the book and carefully put it back where he found it, unsure if Lexi would have wanted him to see that or not. Sherlock's mother had taken nearly as many pictures of him and Mycroft growing up and he knew that she hid them somewhere so that Mycroft and him couldn't find and burn them. Sherlock looked down at his Lexi and smiled fondly as he thought back to the red haired happy baby that would grow up to be the woman Lexi MacKenna, a woman that he loved even when his mind tried to rebel against it. Sherlock closed his eyes and matched his breaths with that of the sleeping girl as he pulled her closer to him. She shifted in her sleep and smiled sleepily and that filled the consulting detective with hope that he hadn't lost his Lexi.

The three of them rose early the next morning and Sherlock slipped back into his own room after Lexi had woken up as he didn't want her to wake up alone. She covertly stole one of his button ups or so she thought. Sherlock let her, glad that she seemed to be stealing his clothes again. She had emerged from her room in a pair of jeans and his purple button up shirt and had led them into a small sitting room where Agatha left them their breakfast. They drank their tea together as Sherlock picked at his breakfast which was a full Irish fry up a kin to the one Lexi had made them once. Sherlock felt slightly nervous as he was about to go and meet the man that Lexi considered to be her actual father. Meeting a woman's parents was something you did in a relationship or at least that was what he could remember. He believed he and Lexi could be considered to be in some sort of relationship, therefore he was slightly anxious. He had dressed smartly for the occasion and he couldn't help but fidget slightly in his seat. Lexi's hand slipped into his as she ate and he looked at John who raised his eyebrows and smirked back at him slightly for this familiar gesture. Sherlock was happy that she seemed more like herself this morning with her hair flowing down her back, one braid mixed in with her hair on her right side.

The trio carefully made their way downstairs and after Sherlock checked to see if the coast was clear they made for the door and left, seeing no sight of Lexi's father which she seemed thankful for. Lexi once again took over driving as she was the only one who knew where they were going. They returned to the main road and followed it down for another few miles before Lexi turned onto a stone drive which led up to another castle which smaller by far than her own. It looked more cheerful and Sherlock could see some of the places around the grounds that looked like the backgrounds in some of the pictures of Lexi he had found. The castle was made of stone but had tall bright, glass windows that probably let in a large amount of light. There were rose bushes growing around the doors and the entire atmosphere was welcoming instead of the repressive atmosphere that hung around the Lexi's family castle. Lexi parked in front of the doors and the trio got out just as the door was opened by a blonde haired man in his thirties who was followed by a black haired man who looked slightly older and was standing in the doorway as the blonde haired man smiled upon seeing Lexi and walked out to greet her.

"Thomas," Lexi said cheerfully as the blonde haired man gave her a hug.

"It's good to see you again sis," Thomas said and Lexi laughed light heartedly.

"It is," Lexi said before she looked back at Sherlock and John who were standing slightly behind her. "Thomas, I'd like you to meet John Watson," Lexi introduced as John stepped forward and shook his offered hand. "And Sherlock Holmes," Lexi said and Sherlock nodded at him and shook his head.

"Ah the detective and the doctor," Thomas said as he threw an arm around Lexi's shoulders. "I'm Thomas, pleasure to meet you both. My father goes on about your blog all the time Dr. Watson," Thomas said and John grinned slightly as he threw a look back at the consulting detective.

"John please," John corrected him and Sherlock huffed slightly as he was never good at pleasantries. Lexi ducked under Thomas's arm and came to stand by Sherlock, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the doors with her.

"It's bloody cold out here, we can chat inside," Lexi said with a laugh as the black haired man stepped back so she and Sherlock could enter the castle. The Entrance Hall was bright and cheerful and very modern unlike the medieval feel of the castle they had been in. There were bright flowers around the place and the stone floor was covered in a nice Emerald green carpet. "Darrin," Lexi said, greeting the black haired man and giving him a one armed hug as she had yet to let go of Sherlock's hand. "Darrin this is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock this is Thomas's partner Darrin," Lexi introduced and Sherlock shook his hand as well as Lexi rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, a smile on her face. "And that is John Watson," Lexi said, pointing back to their army doctor who was just walking up the stone steps out front with Thomas, both men chatting away.

"Inside the pair of you," Darrin told them and Thomas looked up away from John.

"Alright, keep your hair on," Thomas told him as he let John enter in front of him. "Dad's just through in the front room. He knew you would be by around now so he waited to have his tea. Just head on through, well give you some time," Thomas told Lexi who nodded at him gratefully before she reached for John's hand.

"Come on," She said as John took her offered hand and the army doctor looked at Sherlock in confusion, the consulting detective equally confused as Lexi started dragging them along behind her down the hall as they heard Darrin and Thomas chuckling behind them. They came to a door which was open a crack and Lexi pushed it open with her foot before pulling John and Sherlock through behind her. "Look, I bring people," Lexi said, sounding cheerful as they stepped inside the room where an older man was sitting on a couch by the fire, a tea set on the table in front of him. Lexi let go of both of their hands as she darted forward into the room. The man looked the same as the one in Lexi's scrapbook except that he was older and greyer and looked a bit sickly and thin.

"That can't be you. My Lexi! Not this girl, she's too tall, too beautiful. Nothing like the short, clumsy girl that left my sight seven years ago," Alistair said as Lexi hugged him tightly and let out a laugh.

"Aye, leave off. It's you who's changed. When did your hair get to be so grey?" Lexi joked as Alistair rolled his eyes.

"You need your eyes checked again. I'm the same as how you left me," Alistair told her as he pulled her down onto the couch cushion beside him. "Ah, my dear. It's so wonderful to see you again," He said fondly before he looked over at Sherlock and John who were still standing awkwardly by the door where Lexi had left them. "Well don't just stand there. Come sit, make yourselves at home," Alistair told them and John smiled cheerfully as he sat at the couch across from Lexi and Alistair, Lexi curled up in the older man's side as she look up at him, happiness written all over her face.

"Thank you," John said as Sherlock wordlessly took a seat at a chair close to Lexi and John. He silent deduced Alistair and concluded that he was a good man who truly loved Lexi like a daughter. It was easy to see where Lexi had picked up some of her personality traits from him.

"Please help yourself," Alistair told them, gesturing to the tea as Lexi sat forward and poured them all a mug.

"I've got the tea, you chat," Lexi told Alistair who chuckled slightly at her.

"Let me see if I can get this right, Dr. John Watson," Alistair said as he pointed to John who nodded at him before Alistair turned to Sherlock. "And Sherlock Holmes the consulting detective. Yes, you must be. Exactly as Lexi described you. Dark curly hair, high cheekbones, eyes like…," Alistair said before Lexi sat back and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No more from you," Lexi warned Alistair and Sherlock smirked as John chuckled at her expense as Lexi blushed slightly.

"I would quite like him to continue," Sherlock teased her as Lexi handed them their mugs of tea and he received a dangerous look from Lexi which came with a slightly raised eyebrow. "How was that sentence going to end?" Sherlock asked Alistair who chuckled as Lexi's eyebrow raised higher towards her forehead.

"Ah boys, you see that look? That is one any man should fear. She many have the looks of her mother but she has all the temper of her Irish heritage," Alistair told them with a chuckle as Lexi gave him a sidelong glance with a small smile on her face. It was nice to see his Lexi happy again and even John threw him a look when he noticed the immediate change in her.

"I know. You should see the look she gives serial killers," John told Alistair who chuckled knowingly. "Or annoying Detective Inspectors. Didn't you call Dimmock laddie?" John asked Lexi who rolled her eyes at him.

"I can only imagine," Alistair laughed as Lexi groaned. Sherlock smirked at the girl as she sipped at her tea.

"Bloody hell," Lexi said as she looked up at Alistair. "Look at what you've started," Lexi told him as she gave him a pointed look and shook her head at him. Alistair held up his hands defensively and shrugged as he grinned at her.

"I'm merely proud of the fact that you're taking cases again," Alistair told Lexi and she shook her head at him again and sighed dramatically before she sat back and sipped her cooling tea again. "I've read the write ups of Lexi and Sherlock's cases Dr. Watson. Very thrilling," Alistair told John as he took a sip of his tea too.

"John please," John told Alistair who nodded.

"Ah, so you are like Lexi. You detest formalities," Alistair laughed. "And you," Alistair said as he turned to Sherlock who raised his eyebrow in silent questioning as he tried not to shift under his gaze. "You remind me of Lexi," Alistair said and Sherlock relaxed slightly. "You're just as quiet as you make your silent observations. I told her she would find someone who could do the same thing as her one day. Thank you," Alistair told Sherlock, nodding at him and Sherlock nodded back at him as Lexi shifted uncomfortably in her seat slightly. "Now," Alistair said on a happier note as he reached forward and put his empty cup and saucer down on the table in front of him, slapping away Lexi's hand when she tried to do it for him. "Tell me about your cases and leave nothing out. I think Lexi spares me some of the details because she thinks I would worry about her too much," Alistair said and Lexi snorted behind her cup of tea.

"Scraped knee when I was ten," Lexi muttered and Sherlock store this piece of information away about her. He tried to learn as much about her childhood as he could. Ten, ah yes, he had seen one picture of her at that age where it looked like she had something on her knee that was healing.

"I was merely being cautious," Alistair told her with a slight smirk on his face as Lexi smiled a bit in return. It appeared that the two bantered back and forth like this a lot and Sherlock could see that it was like the way she bantered with him.

"And John is too if I so much as get a bruise," Lexi mused as she threw a knowing look over at the army doctor.

"You do get hurt often," John pointed out and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"That's because I have to save Sherlock and you on an almost daily basis," Lexi shot back and Sherlock chuckled as Alistair threw him an amused look.

"Settle down children," Alistair said and John and Lexi quieted down and looked at the older man that at a guess Sherlock would say was at least his father's age. Alistair looked highly amused by the two of them. "Now, start at the beginning. Tell me how the three of you met."

"Do you want me to tell that story or John?" Lexi asked Alistair as she drew her knees up to her chest. Her smile suggested to Sherlock that this was not a defensive gesture, but more because she was comfortable.

"John tends to embellish and romanticize the facts," Sherlock said, speaking for the first time, his deep baritone voice cutting through the room like a knife.

"Hang on," John said as Sherlock cut over him.

"I rather like to think that I was the one to meet you first. After all, I did run into you on my way down to the morgue," Sherlock said and Lexi quickly sat up and pointed at him as she gasped.

"That was you!?" Lexi asked Sherlock and he nodded at her. "I was cursing your name all the way down to Mike's office," Lexi said and Alistair chuckled at that in amusement.

"I thought there was a story here," Alistair mused as he looked between the three of them. "Why don't you start us off Lexi," Alistair offered and Lexi nodded before she jumped into the story.

"Alright, so, I guess I met Sherlock first, if you can really call that a meeting, when I was on my way to go and meet Mike Stamford," Lexi said before Alistair cut in with a question for her.

"He is the one that used to let you into the morgue right?" Alistair asked her and she nodded at him in confirmation before she continued.

"Yup. So Mike and I headed for lunch and we stopped in the park which is when John walked by. He and Mike studied together at Bart's so Mike stopped him and then I rescued them from the most awkward silence I have ever seen in my life," Lexi said and John grinned at that.

"Yeah, thanks for that," John told her before he picked up the story. "We ended up going to lunch together and Lexi deduced me which of course made me think she was mental at first. Sorry for that," John said, throwing a look at Lexi and she shrugged at him. "Anyway, we went back to the park and that was when I found out that Lexi needed a flatmate too. Mike brought the both of us to meet Sherlock because he needed a flatmate too. He told us he was probably going to regret introducing Lexi and Sherlock and rightly so…," John told Alistair and the two consulting detectives made indignant sounds.

Over the next two hours or so, John and Lexi recounted all of their cases with Sherlock adding his input occasionally when they over embellished the events. Alistair was quite taken with the case of the Blind Banker when Lexi told off Detective Inspector Dimmock and stuck to her convictions over the fact that Van Coon was murdered. He scolded her for her sword injury and the true way she came by that injury sort of came out. John was shocked about the assassin in the flat, but he now realized why they had been acting so oddly and why Lexi was acting weirder than normal. Alistair watched the three of them in amusement, especially when Lexi got up and started narrating with her hands. Sherlock watched her with a fond smile on his face which John and Alistair didn't miss as he watched his Lexi come back to him. She smiled and laughed and she came and sat on the arm of his chair and let him play with the ends of her hair. John watched his best mates and smiled at them, entirely sure now that there was something between them.

Once they had finished telling Alistair about the Moriarty case Alistair asked Lexi if she could make her signature dish for them for lunch. Lexi smiled and shook her head fondly at him before leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. She took John with her, offering to show him around a bit in exchange for his help in the kitchen. Sherlock got up to join them, but Alistair asked him for a moment of his time. Sherlock sat down again as Alistair pulled himself off of the couch and stretched, his bones cracking as he walked over to the window an looked out at the garden just outside. Sherlock could tell that he had remained sitting because he hadn't wanted Lexi to see how thin and haggard he looked. Sherlock could tell that he didn't have much longer. If he had to guess, Alistair had brain cancer. More than likely he would have had three months to live. Lexi had just gotten back into taking cases full time then. He hadn't told her because he was worried that she would come back to Ireland to take care of him and give up consulting again. He was proud of her, he wanted her to do what she loved.

He didn't have much longer, at most maybe a week. He looked tired, but he was hiding that fact from Lexi. It was sentiment. Alistair didn't want Lexi's last memory of him to be a sad one. He wanted her to remember him as he had been before he got sick, not as he was now. And Lexi…she was acting cheerful so that his last memory of her wouldn't be seeing her sad. She knew that he would rather see her happy. It was easy to see how much Alistair had influenced her. Alistair was an avid reader and he played the piano. Lexi's grandfather might have gotten her the viola, but Alistair was the one that encouraged her to play. He also loved bees if the books on the shelves near the fireplace were any indication. Alistair was a big reason that Lexi was the girl she was today. Fearless, brave, beautiful, brilliant, and incredible. Sherlock rather doubted that the man realized just how much he had changed Lexi's life. He became the father she needed.

"You love her," Alistair said suddenly, breaking Sherlock out of his thoughts and Sherlock looked up at him startled as Alistair turned around to look at him. "Don't look so surprised Sherlock. When you stick around Lexi long enough, you pick up on things. It wasn't that hard to figure out. It's easy enough to see how much you love her. Anyone who makes her happy is good enough for me and she's chosen you. Tis a rare thing when a woman decides to give her heart to you. Guard it well for it is a precious thing," Alistair warned Sherlock who sighed heavily.

"I'm not so sure if she has given me her heart," Sherlock told Alistair, figuring that the only person who might be able to tell him what he could do about Lexi was her father.

"Oh? And what gives you that assumption?" Alistair asked Sherlock curiously as he walked back over and eased into his seat again. He was tired from just standing for a few minutes.

"She's barely spoken to me in the last week and the only person who's actually seen her is my brother," Sherlock said tilting his head to the side as he raised his eyebrow slightly. Alistair nodded his head slightly before he tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.

"Lexi has always closely guarded her heart. She feels that she does not deserve love," Alistair told Sherlock, raising his hand when Sherlock went to tell him that that was ridiculous. "In your case, be patient with her. Don't give up on her. She's worth it and she will come around. Lexi is stubborn and you seem to be the same way too. Sometimes you just have love them more, love her more," Alistair told him and Sherlock nodded, quickly schooling his face as Lexi came back into the room with John and plates of some potato dish.

The four of them ate together and once they had cleared their plates away, Lexi suggested that they leave and come back a little later after Alistair had some rest. Alistair of course played it off but Lexi fixed him with one of her looks and he gave in. Lexi saw Thomas on their way out and told him to call her should there be even the slightest change. Thomas assured her that he would and the trio headed back to the dire castle. Sherlock should have foreseen what was going to happen next. They had no sooner gotten into the castle before Lexi's father stormed down the stairs, shouting at Lexi. She flinched and Sherlock saw her going into a defensive position. John stood frozen behind Lexi but Sherlock moved, deducing the man's expression and intent. He quickly stepped in front of Lexi and caught the man's hand as he brought it down and Lexi covered her face with her arms to block him, no longer looking like the girl that had fought assassins and faced Moriarty, but like a frightened child. That was the last straw.

"You dare to strike a woman?" Sherlock roared at Lexi's father as John finally moved and got Lexi behind him, looking livid.

"I'll do what I like in my house. She's as much of a whore as her mother was. I looked into what you've been up too lately you good for nothing bitch. You've always been ungrateful. I gave you everything and this is how you waste it. You are an embarrassment and a freak…," Lexi's father shouted at her before Sherlock cut in, thundering over to him. Sherlock towered over him as he twisted her father's wrist and made him cry out in pain.

"You are the embarrassment to your daughter and your name. Your daughter is more brilliant than you could ever imagine and that she wastes her time and brain cells to even talk with you should be considered a great gift. She is the smartest, kindest, and most incredible woman I have ever had the fortune to meet and that she thinks of me as a friend I hold as the highest honour a man could ever hope to receive. You are undeserving of her sir," Sherlock said, his voice calm and concealing his barely contained rage. "John take Lexi upstairs and retrieve our bags. We're leaving," Sherlock told them and John pulled her past her father, keeping himself between the both of them as he led her upstairs, Lexi's face a mixture of fear and shock. As soon as they disappeared upstairs, Sherlock twisted Lexi's father's hand more, breaking it as the man cried out in pain. "You will never contact Lexi again. If I ever hear of you trying to contact her in any way again you are going to wish for a slow and painful death because what I will do is much worse. I'm sure my brother who is practically the British Government when he isn't too busy being the CIA or the Secret Service would love to hear of this," Sherlock told him as he punched the man in the nose, breaking it. The blood gushed down his face as Sherlock let go of his arm and let him drop to his knees as held his nose, cradling his arm to his chest.

"You broke my nose you bastard," Lexi's father shouted at him in rage and Sherlock looked down at him and smirked.

"An excellent deduction. I hope you didn't use up too many of your brain cells to make it," Sherlock said as John and Lexi came down the stairs with their luggage. Lexi stared at her father as Sherlock turned around and walked towards her taking the bags she was carrying from her before he and John got her walking to the door. "Do enjoy your day," Sherlock threw over his shoulder as he slammed the door shut and John led Lexi to the car as she was currently in shock. Sherlock loaded up the car before he turned around and grabbed Lexi by the shoulders. "John, could you give us a moment? See if you can find Dougal and Bayard. I'm sure she would like to say goodbye before we leave," Sherlock suggested and the army doctor nodded, his jaw set into a hard line as he clenched his teeth. "Lexi, I want you to look at me," Sherlock said as he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. "I want you to forget everything he just said. You are none of those things," Sherlock told her and Lexi flung her arms around his neck and Sherlock held her tightly, afraid she was going to start crying.

"Thank you," Lexi whispered as she pulled back and pressed her lips to his. Sherlock returned the kiss, tangling his fingers into her hair before she pulled away quickly. "Sorry," Lexi told him, looking away and Sherlock turned her back to look at him.

"You never have to apologize, not to me," Sherlock told her before sighing. "Was that the first time he's tried to hit you?" Sherlock asked her and Lexi shook her head.

"No, but it's the first time he hasn't succeeded," Lexi told him, grinning up at him and Sherlock knew that she would be alright. Her kiss made him hopeful. They waited at the car and John returned with Dougal, Agatha, and Bayard. Dougal apologized to her profusely and Lexi waved him off, hug him and Agatha before Dougal asked her to bring Bayard to Alistair as Thomas had offered to take him and spoil him. They loaded up the car and Sherlock took over driving back to Alistair's. John sat up front with Sherlock as Lexi smiled and rubbed the drooling dog in the backseat. Both Sherlock and John were glad to see her smiling and laughing despite all that had just happened. In fact it looked like some weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

They returned to Alistair's and Thomas and Darrin helped them unload the car and led them up to their rooms which were bright and cheerful. Alistair wasn't surprised about what had happened and he thanked Sherlock for what he had done. He had been trying to get Lexi to stand up to her father for years and he was glad that someone had finally stood up for her and protected her. All of them ate a large dinner together that Lexi cooked and Alistair told Sherlock and John that that was a good sign, telling them that Lexi only cooked when she was happy. He told them not to worry about her, she would get over this quickly, in fact, she already had. Dinner was a happy affair and Sherlock found that he liked Thomas and Darrin very much. After dinner, Alistair wanted to show John some of the books in the library that he had collected, throwing a look to Sherlock in the meantime. Sherlock followed Lexi back to her room and laid on the bed, watching her as she unpacked. She pulled something out of her suitcase before she crossed over to the desk in the room and opened up the drawer, pulling something else out of it. She crossed back over to the bed and plopped down on it, beside Sherlock before putting two books on his chest. The first was the scrapbook he had seen in her top drawer and the second was another scrapbook. This one said Lexi MacKenna on the front and had a picture of a twenty- four year old Lexi on the front.

"I know you found the first one. I thought maybe you would like to see the rest of it. Alistair kept it up here in my room. I sent him pictures so he could continue with it," Lexi told Sherlock as he sat up and looked at her sheepishly.

"I…," Sherlock said before Lexi shushed him.

"You never have to apologize, not to me," Lexi told him before she took the book from him and opened it. "So, this was when I first moved to London," Lexi said as she showed him a picture of her in front of the London Eye. For the next hour Sherlock and Lexi shared a moment together as Lexi showed him all of the pictures. Sherlock stopped at one picture of Lexi scowling beside a younger Lestrade. She had her leg in a cast and she was wearing a red pea coat and a cream coloured scarf. The girl in the picture made Sherlock freeze as he recognized her besides being Lexi, he recognized her outfit from some distant memory.

"When was this one taken?" Sherlock asked Lexi quickly.

"Um, that was after I got hit by a cab when I was chasing a murderer, why?" Lexi asked him and Sherlock turned to her as he flipped back to one of her first pictures when she moved to London. "Sherlock what is it?" Lexi asked the consulting detective.

""You know it was the husband,"" Sherlock quoted and Lexi frowned at him in confusion. "You were reading an Agatha Christie novel on the flight to London. A man sat next to you and you talked to him the entire flight," Sherlock said before her eyes widened in shock.

"Yes, I remember now. That was you!" Lexi shouted in surprise before she laughed as she sat up. "And the man from the cab who gave me his scarf, that was you too. I called you a traitor," Lexi said as Sherlock sat up as well, smiling smugly as he realized something. "And you were the one who came to talk to Lestrade to try and get on the case, the man looking for Molly in the lab, and the man who came to see Mycroft while he tried to usher me out," Lexi laughed in disbelief. "We've almost met each other five times. Why are you smiling like that?" Lexi asked Sherlock as she turned back to him with a look of confusion on her face.

"Because if I met you on the plane then I met you before Mycroft," Sherlock told her and she smacked him on the arm before giggling as his chuckle mixed with her laugh. She fell against his chest and laughed and the two were so caught up in their laughter that they didn't notice when Alistair opened her door slightly and looked in, smiling as he saw the young couple which reminded him of another love story which involved a red head and a young man, but that was a very long time ago now. Over thirty one years to be exact and that one did have such a perfect ending, though something more than just good had come out of it.

**Lexi's POV**

Alistair had gone to bed a few hours before and after we watched his favourite movie together, Gone With the Wind. It was just like every other night during my childhood. Growing up I spent a lot of nights at Alistair's. In fact, after age ten I spent more time with him then I did at home. My father never even realized that I was gone. I showed Sherlock my Chemistry lab here that was next to my room and he was like a kid in a toy store as he danced around. I also had my own personal library. Alistair spoiled me since he didn't have any children of his own. He had been close to my Mum, best friends with her apparently, her only true friend here in Ireland as he was the only other person that lived around here that was originally from England. Apparently he had moved here to Ireland when my parents got married so that she would at least have one friend in a foreign country. After Alistair went to bed, I headed up to try and get some sleep and John thought that was a good idea so he went to bed too. Like the night before Sherlock joined me again in my room. He fell asleep after a while of me feigning that I was asleep. I stayed awake for a few hours before I carefully pulled myself out of bed, being careful not to wake Sherlock up. I padded quietly across my floor and wrapped my cardigan over my tank top as I snuck out of my room and into the hall after looking back at Sherlock once. I made my way over to Alistair's room and I pushed open the door, just having this feeling. I found him awake, sitting up in bed reading at two in the morning. I walked in and closed the door behind me as he looked up and shut his book, putting it down on the bed beside him before he patted the empty space beside him. I grinned and shook my head before I walked over to him and sat down on the bed next to him, resting my back against his mountain of pillows.

"Get under the covers or you'll freeze," Alistair told me as he pulled them back and a chuckled softly at that.

"Yes, Dad," I told him as I got under the covers and settled in next to him. Bayard looked up from where he was lying on the floor before he got up and jumped up on the bed, settling down so his head was on my knee. "Hmm, now it's a party," I mused as I patted the bloodhound affectionately on the head.

"I guess so," Alistair laughed and I shook my head as I laid my head down on his shoulder. "So, the detective…," Alistair started and I groaned as I buried my face into his shoulder.

"Please don't go there," I told him, not wanting to touch that subject with a twenty foot pole. I had already broken my own rules and kissed him. That was my fault, something I did in the heat of the moment. It had been the first time someone had stood in the way of my father's anger at me, had stood up for me and not because they felt obligated to.

"I'm going there. I will say my peace and be done with it," Alistair told me as I attempted to bury my face deeper into his shoulder. "Lexi, he is good for you. He sees you not what everyone else sees. A man that did not care for you would not show you as much devotion and loyalty as he has," Alistair told me and I sat up as brought my knees to my chest and hugged them, putting my chin on top of my knees. "He's not going to wait forever though my dear. Men, we're thick. As brilliant as he is, he is like the rest of us, mere mortals. Were unaware of the beautiful and what is standing right in front of us. He is as stubborn as you are. All I am trying to say…," Alistair told me, getting me to look at him. "Is don't let your mind get in the way of your heart," Alistair finished and I sighed nodding at him.

"Alright. I'm not saying I'm going to listen to you, but alright," I told Alistair, storing away what he told me while at the same time, guarding my heart. My resolve to distance myself from Sherlock was slipping with each look and smile he sent my way. My heart overruled my head every time it came to Sherlock and unfortunately for me… that was the problem. Alistair sent me back to my room after kissing my on the forehead and I kissed his cheek before leaving Bayard with him. I slipped back into my room and crawled up next to Sherlock snuggling down next to him. He wrapped his arm around me in his sleep and I fell asleep, feeling safe and happy and loved.

**Third Person POV**

The morning dawned and with it, Thomas found that Alistair and Bayard had died in their sleep, keeping each other company in their last hours. Lexi seemed to be at peace with the news and Sherlock and John stood by her side three days later at the funeral when Lexi gave the eulogy, commemorating Alistair as the greatest and kindest man she had known and a man that she was honoured to have been able to call a father. Alistair had left an inheritance to Lexi in his will, one she would have never gotten otherwise. Alistair also left her a cottage in Sussex Downs which Sherlock learned is where he would take her on holiday as a child. It was the entire reason she had moved to England when she left Dublin. Alistair had brought her to England to see where her mother was from and she fell in love with London. Sherlock came to a startling deduction on the day of Alistair's death, something he should have realized straight away as it was easy to see just looking at them. He kept the secret to himself as there was no good that could come out of the knowledge either way.

After the funeral the three of them flew back to London and Mycroft sent a car to bring them back to Baker Street. For a few days Lexi was really quiet and John and Sherlock left her to grieve before she seemed to bounce back to her old self. Lexi decided to listen to Alistair's advice and try again. Everything worthwhile in life you had to work for and Sherlock was worth it. Sure, she had gotten hurt already, but if she never tried than she would lose everything anyway. Life was full of taking chances, so she would have to take a chance on Sherlock Holmes. It was like what happened with Irene never did. Lexi still got quiet whenever Sherlock got a text from her, but she didn't leave the room anymore. She stopped disappearing all the time too. She still went out without explanation at least twice a week but when she was in the flat she was cheerful. She started taking cases with Sherlock again and everyone could feel the tension in the flat disappear. Mrs. Hudson and John were happy to see the change and happy to see Sherlock and Lexi together again. Over the next two months things almost went back to normal. Lexi didn't move back into Sherlock's room but occasionally she fell asleep there when she spent the late night hours talking to him. They sat on the couch together and watched crap telly, Sherlock would read to her, every night Sherlock would play her lullaby on his violin until she fell asleep. It was a start and Sherlock was grateful for it and he listened to Alistair well because Lexi was worth waiting for.

Life at Baker Street settled down into a quiet calm and everything was as it should be, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys, the three of them against the world. Experiments still blew up, they still had mad chases after murderers and the common criminals throughout London, Lexi would get hurt and John would patch her up, and the boys would argue while Lexi watched them fondly and wondered how she got to be so lucky. Sadly, all good things must come to an end. There's always a few moments of calm before the storm hits. It's those moments you look back on later and wonder why you didn't see it coming. No one could have predicted what would happen or what the outcome would be, but that moment of calm was one of the happiest moments of Lexi's life. And then the world came tumbling down and the only thing that broke was Lexi's heart.


	65. The Six Thatchers

**Hello sweeties! So here is the mini chapter, Dr. Watson's blog entry, before the Christmas and the very quick conclusion of this case. We have four more chapters left which you will get tomorrow, Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday. Firstly I want to make a point known that was hinted upon in the last chapter but some of you might have missed. The fabulous Marci May picked up on it so let me first present you with the clues that Sherlock picked up on before he made his startling realization.**

**Alistair moved to Ireland for Imogen, Lexi's mother on the pretense that because they were friends and he wanted her to have a friend in the strange foreign country. **

**Mentions of another love story between a red head and a young man 31 years ago that one good thing came out of.**

**Lexi looks like her mother but not her father and has hazel eyes. Alistair has hazel eyes.**

**Alistair is Lexi's biological father. Imogen and Alistair were in love but Alistiar and her had a huge argument and she ran to Lord Breccan MacKenna another young man who fought for her attentions. He was always kind to her and he stole her away from Alistair and they got married. Alistair followed her to Ireland. Imogen soon found out after they married that Lord MacKenna was a cruel man and abusive and she turned to Alistair and started having an affair with him. She soon found out she was pregnant and it was Alistair's child. When Imogen died, Lord MacKenna suspected that Lexi wasn't his so he was always cruel to her and never treated her like a daughter. He never showed her an ounce of love. Alistair took care of her while her grandfather was disgusted with his sons ways and didn't care if she was his granddaughter or not by blood. Alistair raised her but he knew that Lord MacKenna might hurt Lexi if the truth ever came out so he got her out of there at 12 once he convinced her granddad that she was old enough to start Uni. She came to stay with him for breaks or holidays after that and never went home again and only saw her "father" several more times. Yup, Lexi was a love child. **

**I find it funny the backgrounds I created for the characters. John was raised in a home where his father had died and his mother remained blissfully unaware of what was going on. She didn't see or acted like she didn't see that Harry was drinking underage and she never agreed with John wanting to be a doctor because his father was a nurse. John got his love for medicine from his father who he was really close to. John was also really loyal though and brave so he joined the military to help pay for him to go to med school. His mother never accepted that or his decisions. He had a really hard life. I see his mother as wanting everything new but Harry and John getting everything second hand. She would have gone out with her friends for dinners while John;s dad was working long hours and Harry and John were left to warm up things from cans and the John;s dad would heat up TV dinners when he came home from working a long shift. When John;s dad died, his mum didn't really step up and neither did Harry and John would have been about ten so he took care of himself. he grew up quickly so that's why he is the way he is. Lexi showed him compassion but she was also the first person that actually cared for him. John's first memory of someone making dinner for him is when Lexi did. That's why he can only ever see her as a sister or motherly like figure. She has that sort of scolding sisterly/motherly attitude with him and she was the first person to care for him rather than he having to take care of himself. **

**Sherlock on the other hand was picked on and bullied in school, private and public schools. He had two loving parents and he had Mycroft for a time but as soon as Mycroft went to boarding school, he lost his big brother. His big brother was the one person who always called him smart and not to listen to all the other boys but then even Mycroft started calling him things like stupid. That's when Sherlock's parents got him Redbeard. He and Redbeard grew up together and Sherlock had him even when he started Uni until they had to put Redbeard down due to old age and sickness, cancer. That was when Sherlock stopped caring. The one thing he truly loved died. The one person who never judged him died. He stopped caring and showing emotion and that was when he was labeled as a sociopath. He was 16. He became more closed off and distant and rude and like the Sherlock we know because "Caring is not an advantage." That was sort of the ending of his childhood. It would take until he was 33 for him to realize that not everyone would judge him and not everyone wouldn't care about him. That's why Lexi is the first and only person he'll ever love. She understands him completely and is the only person who does not judge him. Like John, his first memory of someone not looking at him and calling him a freak or shouting at him, or even making him feel different is when he met Lexi. **

**That was one way she saved them both from themselves. **

* * *

><p><strong>The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson<strong>

**The Six Thatchers**

**19th December**

A bit of time has passed since the three of us went to Ireland and I'd taken Sherlock and Lexi out Christmas shopping which, looking back, wasn't the best of ideas, but I figured it would be the only way of insuring that Sherlock at least got Lexi a Christmas present. As I said before she was really quiet before her, well I guess her father, Alistair died. I could go on forever about the man that is actually her father but it would contain too many expletives to post. Alistair however was the most fantastic and extraordinary man you could ever meet and if you could have met him you would understand why Lexi is the same way. She's been…alright since his death in fact seeing Alistair did her a lot of good. Anyway, Sherlock shouted at a Father Christmas that he was bored and wanted a nice juicy murder for Christmas - in front of a bunch of kids and their parents. Lexi was no help at all, especially when she told Sherlock that the Christmas season was full of criminals who got desperate and if they just waited patiently they would probably get a serial killer for Christmas. As you can tell, she is back to her cheerful self. Escorted back to the flat by the police, we found a student, Sally Barnicot, waiting for us.

After Sherlock had managed to insult her about her looks and the way she was dressed, which caused Lexi to smack him on the back of the head for the umpteenth time (secretly I rather enjoy that she does, someone should get to hit him every so often), she told us about a murder that had taken place at her university. Pietro Venucci, an art student, and Sally's best friend had been found stabbed in the pottery room. His boyfriend, Beppo Rovito, was discovered next to the body and told the police that he'd just discovered him. A smashed window seemed to confirm that someone had broken in and as there was no knife on Beppo or in the room, he'd been released from custody. Sally was convinced that Beppo did it as he and Pietro had had a fiery relationship. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes or Lexi MacKenna to work out that she'd also been in love with Pietro. Sherlock was instantly on the internet and was thrilled to discover that there had been a number of burglaries at houses belonging to a couple of students, a lecturer and a friend of the victim. He had, of course, already worked it all out and as I would discover, Lexi had as well only she figured it out before Sherlock confirmed the burglaries for her.

Sherlock requested, or rather ordered, me to go to the university, pretending to be a curator from the Hickman Gallery. The only reason I complied was because Lexi asked me nicely. Apparently she was going to try and take Sherlock Christmas shopping again and thought it would be better if it was just the two of them. I agreed with her. Sherlock and Lexi have been acting a bit odd around each other and having them spend some time alone might be just what they need to work out whatever they are going through. So, I went. I told the art lecturer, Horace Harker, that I was interested in displaying some students' work - especially pieces of sculpture. Naturally, the murder came up in conversation and I asked if the victim had been working on anything in particular as we could display it as a nice tribute to him. Harker said that Pietro had made six pottery figures of Maggie Thatcher before he died. They were like those ones you see of Princess Diana advertised in magazines only they had devil horns. This was satire, apparently. The figures, Harker told me sadly, had already been taken.

We went to visit the people who'd been burgled and it turns out that they'd all bought one of the Thatcher figures. Nothing else had been taken during the break-ins which, again, was what Sherlock and Lexi had expected to hear. We found the addresses of the people who owned the remaining two figures and contacted them. That night, I took one address and Sherlock the other. Lexi came with me as she told a reluctant Sherlock that having one consulting detective at each seen would be beneficial. They've gone back to barely leaving each other's side again. It's nice to see them getting along again. It was a bit odd to not have Lexi in the flat or to see her so quiet for once. They can keep their relationship a secret if they want, but they aren't fooling me or anyone else. I think they had a bit of a row over something. Even Sherlock Holmes will have the occasional domestic with his girlfriend.

I sat there, in the dark and waited with Lexi who seemed just a bit too happy over a stakeout in the cold. Then, hearing the sound of a window breaking, we hid. We watched as Beppo broke in and found the figure on the mantelpiece. Lexi and I followed him outside and Lexi called Sherlock who joined us. The three of us followed him to a bridge and watched as he smashed the figure to the ground. Something was inside it which he picked up, ready to throw in the river. Before he could, we stopped him and found that he was holding a penknife with his initials on it.

Knowing that it was all over, he confessed immediately, that and Lexi can look pretty imposing when she raises her eyebrow which she did. He and Pietro had had an argument and, in a struggle, Beppo had stabbed him. He'd seen the figures were about to go into the oven and had pushed the knife into the clay. He'd then smashed a window to make it look like there'd been a break-in.

I thought that what he'd done was pretty clever but Sherlock and Lexi described it as disappointingly simple. The next day Sherlock spent so much time going on about how he'd have got away with it that I went to the pub and left him talking to a frozen turkey as Lexi was out of the flat again. She's still disappearing off to who knows where and coming back to the flat late like before. She would disappear for most of the week before and now she disappears for four days. Sherlock has sort of a written rule that neither of us ask her where she's been. I think he knows, but if he does, he hasn't told me. Maybe she has a secret identity. I don't know, but she comes back to the flat uninjured and sober so I could care less what she's actually doing. It isn't like she has to tell us everything. I'm still worried about her though. She looks tired lately, like she's been doing a lot of work but we haven't had any cases. Maybe I'm just imagining things.

Oh, and he's still getting those texts. Lexi's started to leave the room again after he gets them, but then she comes back out like nothing is wrong. I think something is eating at her, but she won't talk to me and again Sherlock has a sort of written rule that we don't ask which I think is stupid. Ignoring the problem won't make it go away, but it doesn't matter because when I've asked her about it she just tells me she is fine. One word answer. It's odd. She disappears all the time but when she is in the flat she's cheerful and acting normal or semi normal with Sherlock again. It's like she has conflicting emotions. She's starting to get distant again, but she still smiles and laughs which makes me think she's making it seem like everything is fine when it isn't. I've asked my therapist about it and she said that maybe Lexi is working through something and this is how she is doing it. I mean, Alistair did die not too long ago so she could be dealing with that, but this started before that. I don't know, but I think that something major might happen soon. I don't know what, but I have sort of a bad feeling.


	66. Danger Night

**Hello sweeties! It's Christmas! Not that kind of Christmas, this one is actually really depressing but all the future ones with the Baker Street Irregulars will be fantastic. That's all for my authors note for now. We are getting so close for me to introduce Joanna and start up her own series, A Different Sort of Goldfish which is good because I heavily ship JoCroft my own pairing and in someways I think they are even sweeter and more made for each other than Lock and Lexi. I know BLASPHEMY! Just wait, you'll love them. *sighs* Aww they're too adorable. Okay enough fluffy moments from your author. Let's get on to the depressing, soul crushing case we are currently on so we can get to all the fluffy moments. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty-Four- Danger Night<strong>

**Third Person POV**

No one could be in the Christmas spirit more than Lexi MacKenna. John had watched her for the last few days as she sang Christmas carols and danced around the flat. She had been baking nonstop for the last four days and their flat was overrun with pies and cookies and so many sweets that John felt a bit sick just looking at them. The only thing John could say was that she was getting him into the Christmas mood. Lexi had a very nice singing voice and she sang Christmas songs as she baked, even managing to get Sherlock to try everything she made. The two of them were closer, not like before, but better. After they had gotten back from Ireland, things sort of went almost back to normal, but the closer it got to Christmas, things were starting to head for the worse again. Lexi was out of the flat a lot again and whenever Sherlock got a text from that number she would walk out of the room only to return a few moments later, seemingly fine. John tried to ask her if she was alright, but he got nowhere with her just snapping at him that she was fine. So John left her to figure out whatever was wrong on her own like she apparently wanted.

She was doing better than she had right after Alistair's death which was something John could be happy about. It wasn't that Lexi was avoiding them again or seemingly upset about something, it was the fact that she was too happy that worried John. She was overly happy and not in the normal way and every so often John would catch her slip up and see the frown or the sadness in her eyes. She never slipped up around Sherlock, only when she thought he wasn't looking. So, she was hiding something from him and trying to make it out that she was completely fine when she wasn't. John didn't press her on it though for fear of saying the wrong thing. She already was snappish if he tried to question her on it or where she might be going so John left it. He had asked his therapist about it and she told him that Lexi was probably still trying to work through everything after Alistair's death. That she just needed time and space and once she had worked through everything on her own that she would be fine and back to normal. Ella had asked John if he ever thought of mentioning grief counselling to Lexi and he responded with a firm no. Somehow John figured that even mentioning it to Lexi would cause a large argument. The army doctor had the feeling that something major might happen soon, but he didn't know what.

Lexi looked tired a lot when she came home from wherever it was that she went most of the time. John found that strange as they weren't working any cases right now. Maybe she was though. Lestrade had told John that Lexi wasn't working on any cases for the Yard, so maybe she was taking her own clients or just doing some of her own work. Whatever was going on, John decided to make it his mission to make this the best Christmas he could for Lexi. It was their first Christmas at Baker Street and their first Christmas spending it together. John doubted that Lexi got a lot of family Christmases growing up, except maybe from Alistair and apparently she had spent the last several Christmases either alone or with Mycroft when he wasn't busy, but mostly alone if he had to run off again. No one should spend Christmas alone. So, John let her sing as much as she wanted even if the Christmas songs started to get old and he even helped her with the baking if that was what she wanted to do. When Lexi suggested that they have a small party at the flat Christmas night, John had been one of the forerunners in convincing Sherlock which wasn't as difficult as John thought it would be. Apparently if your name was Lexi, you could get what you wanted. Sherlock still grumbled about it, but John knew he was doing it for her because he was just as worried about her as he was. He might not say it out loud or even hint to the fact that he was, but John knew. It was all in the way his eyes followed her as he tried to deduce whatever might be bothering her.

Lexi managed to get a tree set up in the corner and she decorated it with bobbles and fairy lights before she strung fairy lights up around the window frame as well. She hung the Christmas cards about the flat and a wreath was put up on the door outside and inside the stairs were strung with garland. It was like Lexi had become a little Christmas elf. It was sort of nice to see her coming in from outside with a light dusting of snow in her hair. Christmas Eve Lexi left the boys to spend some time with Mycroft which Sherlock complained about. While she was gone a package was delivered to her from America, New York to be exact and it said on the box to give the wrapped box enclosed inside to Lexi on Christmas. John therefore put the small, long box with all the other gifts that they would hand out at the Christmas party. When Lexi had come back in she gave a gift to John and Sherlock from Mycroft as well as another gift for Sherlock which was supposedly from his parents. John got a new notebook which would come in handy on cases and a nice pen, so good on Mycroft for not being terrible at giving gifts and Sherlock got a game of Cluedo from Mycroft and a new bow and rosin from his parents. Sherlock had gritted his teeth at the board game because it meant that Mycroft had been spying on them while they were in Ireland, but he put it with the other board games he owned which John was surprised that he had, having not seen Sherlock as the type that would play some of them.

Christmas morning started out alright. Lexi had come out of her room in festive flannel pyjamas, a Christmas hat on her head, the bobble having a little bell on it that jingled merrily every time she moved. She made the both of them breakfast and sang Christmas carols as she danced around the kitchen. This morning it was sort of adorable to see her so excited almost like a kid. Lexi disappeared down into Mrs. Hudson's flat for most of the day and by the afternoon the smells of cooking wafted up to the flat. The boys crept downstairs only to find both women in festive moods, relating Christmas stories and drinking eggnog. Lexi came back up to the flat around mid-afternoon and popped food into the oven as apparently they were running out of room downstairs. She retreated to her room to get ready for the party and when she emerged she was wearing a red, one armed dress that came down to her knees and her hair was up in an elegant bun. She had also put on green eye shadow and black eyeliner to add to the festive look and red nail polish. She had a bit of tinsel in her hair which John didn't know if she meant to be there or not so he just didn't mention it. She had gotten both of the boys together and took a picture of them all together, Lexi in the middle as she forced John and Sherlock to smush their faces next to her. She then told Sherlock that it would be one for the scrapbook, a reference that he seemed to understand even if John didn't.

Mrs. Hudson came to join them up at the flat as Jeanette, John's current girlfriend and Lestrade arrived. Somehow Mrs. Hudson convinced Lexi to put the Christmas hat back on and she asked Lexi and Sherlock to play some Christmas songs for them which they obliged to. Sherlock and Lexi walked around the flat slowly as they played "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" together, Lexi's viola a perfect accompaniment to the sound of Sherlock's violin. Mrs Hudson was sitting in Sherlock's chair with a glass in her hand, watching them happily. Lestrade was standing at the entrance to the kitchen holding a wine glass as he had just gotten a drink for Lexi, and John, who was wearing a very snazzy Christmassy jumper which Lexi had gotten him just for the occasion, walked across the room with a cup and saucer in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. As Sherlock and Lexi finished the tune with a fancy flourish, Lestrade whistled in appreciation as he winked at the Irish detective who shook her head at him before smiling cheerfully.

"Lovely! Sherlock, Lexi. That was lovely!" Mrs. Hudson said as Lexi put her viola down, leaning it up against Sherlock's chair as she smiled back at the older woman happily. John was glad that Lexi seemed to be so happy tonight as it was genuine happiness.

"Marvellous!" John complimented his best mates and Sherlock sketched a small bow to his audience as Lexi curtsied slightly. Mrs Hudson, apparently a little bit squiffy, giggled up at Sherlock and Lexi. It would seem that the eggnog had been a bit spiked earlier but that shouldn't have surprised him given the fact that she had been drinking with Lexi.

"I wish you could have worn the antlers! Lexi is wearing her Christmas hat," Mrs. Hudson pointed out as Lexi turned about, the bell on the bottom of her hat jingling merrily with the movement as she looked pointedly at Sherlock.

"Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said and Lexi laughed as she put a hand on Sherlock's arm and grinned up at him.

"Oh I can imagine it. Can you believe I got Mycroft to wear some once for all of three seconds for me?" Lexi asked as John handed Mrs. Hudson a cup of tea in an attempt to sober her up a bit.

"Mrs H," He said as John's current girlfriend, a woman in her thirties, brought over a tray containing mince pies and slices of cake that Lexi had baked and offered it to Sherlock as Lexi moved away from him and popped over to Lestrade to get her glass of wine.

"No thank you, Sarah," Sherlock said politely and the girl's face fell. John hurried over to her and put his arm around her as she turned away, Lexi popping up beside Sherlock again.

"Hmmm no Lock. That's not Sarah," Lexi said with a frown as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He's not good with names," John told his girlfriend quickly, trying to cover up for Sherlock's blunder and Lexi's as well. She wasn't exactly helping the matter much. John knew how she felt about most of his girlfriends, but instead of outwardly saying it like Sherlock did, she was rather subtle.

"He still thinks Greg is actually called Gavin," Lexi said and Lestrade made an indignant sound behind them as Lexi took a sip of her wine and raised her eyebrow slightly as if this proved his point.

"No-no-no, I can get this," Sherlock told John as the army doctor's girlfriend put the tray down and straightened up, folding her arms and looking at Sherlock and Lexi rather grimly, Lexi not even fazed by the look. "No, Sarah was the doctor who Lexi couldn't stand; and then there was the one with the spots who Lexi also didn't like; and then the one with the nose who Lexi thought was mildly alright; and then ... who was after the boring teacher?" Sherlock asked as he looked to Lexi for the answer.

"Nobody," John's girlfriend said in offense and Lexi grinned and pointed to the woman as she made an ah ha sound.

"Jeanette!" Sherlock said as he grinned falsely at her. "Ah, process of elimination," Sherlock said as John awkwardly shepherded Jeanette away. He would be having a talk with Sherlock and Lexi later about this. Sherlock looked across to the door as a new arrival came in just as Lexi laughed joyously.

"Oh, dear Lord," Sherlock said as Molly Hooper walked in, smiling shyly and carrying two bags which appeared to be full of presents.

"Be nice," Lexi told Sherlock as she patted him on the arm before she went to greet Molly.

"Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello," Molly said as John walked over to greet her as well, smiling.

"Molls," Lexi said with a grin as she gave the shorter woman a hug which she returned.

"Er, it said on the door just to come up," Molly said as Lexi stepped back and everyone greeted her cheerfully. Sherlock rolled his eyes while Lexi looked back at him and raised on of her eyebrows.

"Oh, everybody's saying hullo to each other. How wonderful!" Sherlock said sarcastically and Molly smiled at him nervously as she started to take her coat and scarf off.

"Let me, er ... holy Mary!" John said, standing ready to take her coat. Lestrade gawped in similar appreciation as Molly revealed that she was wearing a very attractive black dress.

"Wow!" Lestrade said and Lexi smacked him on the arm and gave him a pointed look as she crossed room again and perched herself of the arm of Sherlock's chair, taking Mrs. Hudson's hand in hers, the older woman looking fondly up at her.

"Having a Christmas drinkies, then?" Molly asked as Sherlock sat down at the table.

"No stopping them, apparently," Sherlock muttered and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on! I made your favourite," Lexi said as she looked over at him and Sherlock looked towards her as everyone watched them, including Molly who frowned slightly as she watched the two of them.

"You did," Sherlock told her and she grinned at him as she shrugged her shoulders.

"See? Christmas, that's what it's all about," Lexi told Sherlock and John smiled a bit at that. Lexi had been trying to teach him what the point of Christmas was all about since he kept complaining that he didn't see the point of the day.

"It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it's almost worth it! Lexi's always nice mind you," Mrs. Hudson said and Molly giggled nervously, her eyes still fixed on Sherlock as he started typing on John's laptop. John brought a chair over for her which normally was their client chair.

"Have a seat," John offered to Molly as Lexi got up when Sherlock quietly called her over to him.

"John?" Sherlock asked the army doctor who hummed questioningly as he walked over to see what Sherlock and Lexi were looking at. Lestrade touched Molly's arm to get her attention.

"Molly?" Lestrade asked and she turned to him. "Want a drink?" He asked her and she accepted his offer as John leaned over Sherlock's shoulder to look at the screen.

"The counter on your blog: still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five," Sherlock said as John pulled a mock-angry face and Lexi giggled slightly.

"Ooh, no! Christmas is cancelled!" John said sarcastically as Sherlock pointed to the side bar which had one of the press pictures of him in his deerstalker. There was also a picture of Lexi in her fedora on the side bar which Sherlock frowned at.

"And you've got a photograph of me wearing that hat! And Lexi in that…thing!" Sherlock told John indignantly.

"People like the hat and they like Lexi. How do you think I got male readers?" John asked Sherlock with a shrug and the frown on his face deepened as Lexi shook her head at that.

"No they don't. What people?" Sherlock asked as he continued looking at the laptop as John walked away. Molly turned to Mrs Hudson as Lexi leaned over Sherlock's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek when no one was looking. He looked up at her as she moved away from him, his eyes following her.

"How's the hip?" Molly asked Mrs. Hudson as Lexi touched her on the arm and threw her a smile as she walked past her into the kitchen.

"Ooh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking," Mrs. Hudson answered her.

"I've seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems," Molly joked and an awkward silence fell over the flat as Molly looked embarrassed. "Oh, God. Sorry," Molly apologized.

"Don't make jokes, Molly," Sherlock told her as something came flying out of the kitchen, flew over all of their heads, and hit Sherlock expertly in the middle of the chest. He looked down to find that it was a Walnut. Everyone turned to the kitchen where Lexi was pulling something out of the oven before they turned back to the room.

"No. Sorry," Molly apologised as Lestrade handed her a glass of red wine. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas," Molly said to Lestrade as Lexi came out of the kitchen with her wine. Lestrade gave her a sidelong glance, a slight smirk on his face. She handled Sherlock well.

"That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife. We're back together. It's all sorted," Lestrade said, grinning at Molly as Lexi moved back over to Sherlock's side and perched herself on the edge of the dining table next to Sherlock who was still on the computer.

"No, she's sleeping with a P.E. teacher," Sherlock said without looking up from the computer. Lestrade's smile become rather fixed and then Lexi's hand shot out as she smacked Sherlock on the back of the head. "Ow, woman. Stop that!" Sherlock told Lexi and she raised an eyebrow at him as Molly turned to John who was sitting on the arm of his armchair, Jeanette sitting in the chair itself.

"And John. I hear you're off to your sister's, is that right?" Molly asked and John replied that she was right. "Sherlock was complaining," Molly said and Sherlock raised his eyebrows indignantly. Molly corrected herself instantly. "...saying." Lexi looked over to Lestrade who she could tell had been running Sherlock's comment through his mind, and his face slowly became a picture of exasperation when he seemed to realise that it was probably true. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act. She's off the booze," John told Molly proudly as Lexi grinned a bit. Harry had actually been pretty alright.

"Nope," Sherlock said and John looked over at him angrily.

"Shut up, Sherlock," John told him as Lexi's hand shot out again and smacked the consulting detective.

"Woman!" Sherlock said loudly and Lexi got up after throwing Sherlock a warning look. She walked back into the kitchen and John knew that Christmas was slowly starting to go downhill. "I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him," Sherlock said as John looked back at Lexi once to find her mouth drawn into a tight line.

"Sorry, what?" Molly asked Sherlock in confusion.

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift," Sherlock continued and John knew that something very not good was about to happen.

"Take a day off," John said quietly, exasperated. Sherlock couldn't just give Lexi this one day, could he?

"Shut up and have a drink," Lestrade told Sherlock, taking a glass across to the table and putting it down near him.

"Oh, come on. Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best," Sherlock said as he stood up and walked towards Molly, looking at the other presents which aren't so carefully wrapped. "It's for someone special, then," Sherlock continued as he picked up the well-wrapped present.

"Lock!" Lexi said as she stepped out of the kitchen and John could see that her hand was tightly balled into a fist even if her face looked really calm.

"The shade of red echoes her lipstick – either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has lurrrve on her mind," Sherlock said and Lexi's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sherlock!" She said, slightly louder this time as she tried to stop him, but he went on, ignoring her.

"The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all," Sherlock said and John looked at Molly anxiously as she squirmed in front of Sherlock. "That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she's wearing," Sherlock said, smiling smugly across to John and Jeanette as he started to turn over the gift tag attached to the present. "Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts...," Sherlock said, trailing off as he looked down at the writing on the tag. Written in red ink, the greeting read:

**_Dearest Sherlock_**

**_Love Molly xxx_**

Sherlock gazed at the words in shock when he realized the terrible thing that he has just done and he caught sight of Lexi who was looking at him with such a look of disappointment before she shook her head and turned, walking back into the kitchen. Molly gasped quietly.

"You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always," Molly said as she fought back tears, Sherlock turned to walk away ... but then stopped and turned back to her.

"I am sorry. Forgive me," Sherlock said as Lexi appeared in the doorway of the kitchen again. He said it both to Molly and Lexi and Lexi nodded at him, an action that was missed as everyone stared at Sherlock including John who looked up, startled and amazed at such a human reaction from his friend. Sherlock stepped closer to Molly. "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper," Sherlock said softly before he leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. Lexi nodded once at him and grinned fondly at him before the moment was instantly ruined by the sound of an orgasmic sigh. Molly gasped in shock as Lexi's face immodestly fell, her smile turning into a frown.

"No! That wasn't ... I – I didn't...," Molly stammered quickly in embarrassment as John looked over to Lexi who wasn't moving, her expression completely void of all emotion.

"No, it was me," Sherlock said as John groaned inwardly.

"My God, really?!" Lestrade asked Sherlock in shock as Lexi took in a deep breath.

"What?!" Molly asked him before Sherlock clarified.

"My phone," Sherlock said as he reached into his jacket pocket to get the phone. John narrowed his eyes at him.

"Fifty-seven?" He asked Sherlock for confirmation.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked him in confusion.

"Fifty-seven of those texts – the ones I've heard," John told him before he turned to Lexi as she spoke, her voice hallow and so unlike her.

"The total is seventy-five John," She said as everyone turned and looked at her worriedly, but she seemed to not notice as she stared at Sherlock who looked down at the message which read simply:

**Mantelpiece**

"Thrilling that you've been counting," Sherlock said as he walked to the mantelpiece.

"Well, I have to do something," Lexi retorted and Lestrade shifted uncomfortably beside her as everyone felt the tension return to the flat. Her tone almost sounded dangerous. Sherlock picked up a small box wrapped in blood-red paper and tied with black rope-like string. Instantly he flashed back to the colour of Irene's lipstick, which was identical to this paper.

"'Scuse me," Sherlock said as he walked toward the kitchen, Lexi having already disappeared.

"What – what's up, Sherlock?" John asked as Sherlock continued walking the sound of a door shutting down the hall reaching John's ears.

"I said excuse me," Sherlock told him again.

"D'you ever reply?" John called after him and ignoring him, Sherlock walked into his bedroom after passing by Lexi's closed door, not noting that it had been open earlier and that someone was now moving inside. Sherlock sat on the bed and opened the box. Inside was Irene's camera phone. He took it out of the box and looked at it closely, then gazed off into the distance thoughtfully. Yes, Christmas was officially ruined.

In his own house across London, Mycroft was sitting by the fireside. His phone rang and he took it from his jacket expecting it to be Lexi. He looked at the Caller ID and was surprised when it wasn't before, with a look of "Good grief!" on his face, he put the phone to his ear and answered it.

"Oh dear Lord. We're not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Have they passed a new law?" Mycroft asked his brother, not sure if he could survive this agony. He indulged Lexi with her Christmas calls and her need for festive cheer, but any more than that he could not endure.

"I think you're going to find Irene Adler tonight," Sherlock told him just as John came to the door of his bedroom and stood there listening to the conversation.

"We already know where she is. As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters," Mycroft told him sighing deeply. Lexi had just alerted him of her current location the day before when she came over as she had been keeping an eye on her activity for Mycroft. He had asked her to take on the extra project after she returned from Ireland.

"No, I mean you're going to find her dead," Sherlock told him as he hung up the phone. He stood up and walked towards the bedroom door.

"You okay?" John asked him cautiously.

"Yes," Sherlock answered him shortly before he pushed the door closed, shutting John out.

John and everyone else at the party missed when Lexi slipped out of her room, bundled up in a thick sweater and jeans now and wearing a thick wool scarf and mittens. She pulled on her army trench coat by the door, the first time she had worn it since before they left for Ireland, before slipping out of the flat. When Sherlock left a while later, neither he nor John realized that Lexi was missing. John only discovered that she was gone when everyone else went home and Molly got a call in to see if she would help cover the night shift. John was able to estimate that she had slipped out about two hours before. He tried ringing her but it went straight to her voicemail. Lexi had disappeared into the night quietly, tears falling from her eyes as she walked down the darkened streets of London, lit up by festive Holiday lights, in the bitter cold, hugging herself tightly. She had been so stupid and she had taken a chance and this was what it got her. Well, Irene could be happy that she won. Like the cold outside, Lexi's heart froze and hardened before it broke into pieces. Caring was not an advantage.

**Mycroft's POV**

Hours later, Sherlock and Mycroft walked to the morgue and went inside where Molly was waiting for them. She had changed into trousers and a Christmassy jumper and was wearing her lab coat open over the top of her clothes. A body was lying on the table covered with a sheet. Mycroft had sent his people out to search for the last few hours before he finally found her with Joanna's help which came from out of the blue. Mycroft had found out all he could about Lexi's friend and hadn't discovered much which was maddening. It was as if she knew what he was looking for before he had even told her. That could be taken care of later however. Right now he had to handle this current situation.

"The only one that fitted the description. Had her brought here – your home from home," Mycroft told Sherlock, trying to be careful about this. He knew this was a touchy subject for both Sherlock and Lexi.

"You didn't need to come in, Molly," Sherlock told the brunet pathologist. Ah, so that was the girl's name. Mycroft didn't often concern himself with such trivial matters. He barely concerned himself with learning their last names most times.

"That's okay. Everyone else was busy with ... Christmas," Molly said looking awkward as she gestured to the body. "The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult," The girl said gently as she pulled the sheet down to reveal the face.

"That's her, isn't it?" Mycroft asked his brother. He would have rather Lexi been the one to identify the body as she knew Irene better having met her more than once, but it was best not to ask her. Mycroft was currently keeping a very close eye on her as her behaviour of late was highly concerning.

"Show me the rest of her," Sherlock told the pathologist and grimacing, Molly walked along the side of the table, pulling the sheet back as she went. Sherlock looked along the length of the body once, then turned and started to walk away. "That's her," Sherlock said simply before disappearing.

"Thank you, Miss Hooper," Mycroft told the girl before he turned to follow his brother out.

"Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from ... not her face?" Molly asked him and Mycroft smiled politely at her, then turned and followed his brother. He found him standing in the corridor outside, looking out of the window. He walked up behind him and held a cigarette over his shoulder.

"Just the one," Mycroft told him wondering if he would take it. Should he it would mean that this was a danger night and he was at a point when he would readily give in. Should he not, then he would be fine.

"Why?" Sherlock asked him as if there had to be a reason.

"Merry Christmas," Mycroft answered him simply and Sherlock took the cigarette. Mycroft dug into his coat pocket to find a lighter. Danger night then.

"Smoking indoors – isn't there one of those ... one of those law things?" Sherlock asked as Mycroft lit the cigarette for him. People often thought that Mycroft did not care about his brother, but despite their feuds, Mycroft cared about him a great deal. Lexi also attempted to get them to get along.

"We're in a morgue. There's only so much damage you can do," Mycroft told his brother as Sherlock inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke out again. "How did you know she was dead?" Mycroft asked Sherlock curiously.

"She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on. She chose to give it up," Sherlock told him as he took another drag on his cigarette. Ah, the phone. He would have to get Lexi to collect that for him.

"Where is this item now?" Mycroft asked, trying to discern a location for it. Sherlock ignored the question and looked round at the sound of sobbing. A family of three people were standing on the other side of the doors at the end of the corridor, cuddled together and clearly grieving the death of someone close to them. Mycroft turned with his brother to look at them.

"Look at them. They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who sighed at him slightly.

"All lives end. All hearts are broken," Mycroft said as he looked round at his brother. Yes, all hearts were broken. He had tried to warn her that any relationship with Sherlock would only end with her getting hurt. Maybe now she would believe him. "Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock," Mycroft reminded his brother. Sherlock blew out another lungful of smoke, then looked down at the cigarette in disgust.

"This is low tar," Sherlock said in disgust and Mycroft shrugged slightly.

"Well, you barely knew her," Mycroft told him feeling all the more responsible for what had happened to Lexi the last few months. She had said that whatever happened would be his fault and it was because he had put them on the case.

"Huh!" Sherlock said as he walked away down the corridor. "Merry Christmas, Mycroft," Sherlock called back and the odd display of sentimentality only proved that this was a danger night all the more.

"And a happy New Year," Mycroft told him and as his brother continued down the corridor, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the floor, Mycroft got out his phone and hit a speed dial. "He's on his way," Mycroft told John who was back at the flat. "Have you found anything?" Mycroft asked John tiredly.

"No. Did he take the cigarette?" John asked Mycroft and he sighed heavily.

"Yes," Mycroft told him calmly.

"Shit," John said before his voice got distant as he brought the phone away from his mouth. "He's coming. Ten minutes," John told their landlady if Mycroft had to guess.

"There's nothing in the bedroom," Mycroft heard someone call back, confirming his theory.

"Looks like he's clean. We've tried all the usual places. Are you sure tonight's a danger night?" John asked him and Mycroft sighed again as his business phone beeped in his pocket.

"No, but then I never am. You have to stay with him, John," Mycroft told him, knowing that John would be the only one that could take care of him tonight. Lexi would most likely not want watch Sherlock, in fact Mycroft was going to see if she would agree to leaving her flat for a few days to spend time with him. If he could get her away from that environment for a little while, it was possible he could get her to forget her feelings. He also would have to keep her busy over the next few days.

"I've got plans," John told Mycroft sounding exasperated.

"No," Mycroft told him and was about to hang up before the army doctor stopped him.

"Do you know where Lexi is?" John asked Mycroft and the man paused.

"She's gone?" Mycroft asked John, raising his eyebrow slightly as he got out his work phone which had three new text messages.

**Ms. MacKenna has been spotted wandering the streets. -10:39pm**

**She's entered a pub, the Auld Dubliner. -11:17pm**

**Ms. MacKenna hasn't left her position in the last three hours. -2:03am**

"Yeah, she just sort of disappeared. I think…," John told him before Mycroft interrupted him.

"Do not concern yourself with her now. I will find her personally," Mycroft told him calmly before hanging up. It appeared that it was more than just Sherlock's danger night, but Lexi's were always worse than his. She was vulnerable right now and the next few hours would be critical. His best bet was to recover her quickly and bring her back to Baker Street for the night where John could closely monitor her. Mycroft sighed heavily and rubbed his temple before he walked out of the morgue. Christmas always did end in disaster in the Holmes' family and it appeared that Sherlock was keeping with that tradition.

**John's POV**

"Mycroft. M...," John said as the line went dead. The way Mycroft had spoken sound like he knew exactly where Lexi was. Chewing the inside of his mouth, he walked across to where Jeanette was sitting on the sofa and sat down beside her. "I am really sorry," He apologized to her.

"You know, my friends are so wrong about you," Jeanette said and John hummed questioningly at her as he looked at her. "You're a great boyfriend," Jeanette told him and John looked at her, not sure where this conversation was heading.

"Okay, that's good. I mean, I always thought I was great," John said, and he instantly realized that he had said the wrong thing.

"And Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna are very lucky people," Jeanette told him and John groaned.

"Jeanette, please," John pleaded with her as she started putting her shoes on.

"No, I mean it. It's heart-warming. You'll do anything for them – and he can't even tell your girlfriends apart and she just gives me that judging look," Jeanette said bitterly and she got off the sofa and headed for the door. He jumped up and followed her as she put her coat on.

"No, I'll do anything for you. Just tell me what it is I'm not doing. Tell me!" John pleaded with her. He could do better, he could spend more time with her. He could… he didn't know what, but he could do something.

"Don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," Jeanette told him bitterly.

"I'll walk your dog for you. Hey, I've said it now. I'll even walk your dog...," John offered to her and she looked at him indignantly and John realized he had just put his foot in his mouth.

"I don't have a dog!" Jeanette yelled at him.

"No, because that was ... the last one. Okay," John said, looking away from her. He had just blown it. The day had been going so well up until Molly arrived. Of course it wasn't Molly's fault, Sherlock had started the downfall.

"Jesus!" Jeanette exclaimed as she picked up her bag and stormed out.

"I'll call you," John called after her desperately.

"No!" Jeanette shouted back to him angrily.

"Okay," John said to himself. Exasperated, he turned back into the room as she ran down the stairs. Mrs Hudson looked at him sympathetically.

"That really wasn't very good, was it?" Mrs. Hudson told him and John sighed before Mrs. Hudson left him alone.

John went to his chair and sat down, picking up his book and attempting to read it so that it wouldn't look like he was just waiting for Sherlock to come back. He wasn't worried about Lexi right now because Mycroft said he would find her and he could trust Mycroft to do that at least. She had probably left to get some air as she looked rather angry when she had left the kitchen. John wasn't sure when exactly she had left, but it was before Sherlock did. He felt guilt about having not noticed she was gone until later, but he couldn't deal with this now. He had just lost another girlfriend. Of course none of them understood what John did. Sometimes John didn't even understand it anymore. A short while later the door opened downstairs and then closed and Sherlock came up the stairs and stopped in the doorway of the living room. John looked round at him casually.

"Oh, hi," John said, trying to sound like he hadn't known he was going to be back yet. Sherlock stood there, his eyes roaming all around the living room. "You okay?" John asked him calmly as Sherlock continued to scan the room for a long moment, then turned and walked back to the kitchen door, heading for his bedroom.

"Hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time," Sherlock called back before his bedroom door slammed shut. John put his book down and sighed heavily.

John sat back in his seat before getting up and pouring himself a glass of whiskey, tiredly rubbing his face. Now that Sherlock was home the only person he had to worry about was Lexi who still wasn't back yet. It was past three in the morning already. John nodded off for a while before he heard the door bang open down stairs and someone climbing the stairs. John set down his glass on the kitchen counter before he stepped out into the living room to greet Lexi when she came in. Only it wasn't Lexi that walked through the door, it was Mycroft carrying Lexi who was cradled against his chest.

"Jesus," John said as he hurried forward and took Lexi from Mycroft, relieving the man of her as he laid her out on the couch. "Where was she? What's wrong with her?" John asked Mycroft as the man straightened up and looked at him grimily.

"In a pub. She passed out on the way back here," Mycroft told John as the army doctor removed her shoes and put a quilt over her. "Dr. Watson, tonight is a danger night for her, even more so than Sherlock. I entrust that you will watch her closely. She's more vulnerable right now," Mycroft told him and John looked back at Mycroft from where he was knelt down next to Lexi, looking her over for any injuries. He managed to get her hair down and had brushed it out of her eyes so it was haloed around her.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" John asked Mycroft cautiously and Mycroft sighed heavily.

"Sentiment," Mycroft said simply and John frowned at him in confusion before standing up angrily.

"You know and you won't say?" John asked Mycroft and Mycroft looked at him before looking at Lexi.

"The reasons for her current state are a mystery to even me. She is of my highest priority right now," Mycroft told the army doctor who frowned slightly in confusion as Lexi shifted onto her side on the couch and curled up in the fetal position.

"And Sherlock isn't?" John asked Mycroft curiously and Mycroft shook his head before he looked back towards the kitchen.

"My brother detests my concern for him, thus I will bestow it upon Lexi. She is far more of a worry to me now than my brother. Have her call me tomorrow will you?" Mycroft asked John who nodded at him before Mycroft took a look around the flat. "Good night Dr. Watson. Take care of her," Mycroft tod John, taking a final look at the sleeping girl before he turned and headed off down the steps. John could see that he looked very tired, as much as John felt.

John looked down at Lexi and crouched down, brushing her hair back as Lexi's face was furrowed in her sleep. She murmured something and John noticed that she was silently crying in her sleep. John sighed heavily and helped get Lexi out of her coat and scarf before he let her sleep on the couch. He wondered just what he could do to possibly help her. His best mates were at odds with each other and he had no idea why. The next morning Lexi woke up with a hangover. She took one look at Sherlock who was sitting in his chair and reading the paper before she got up off of the couch and stumbled towards the bathroom. John got out of his chair and rushed back to her as she started gagging in the bathroom. He held her hair back and helped her up once she was done retching and she quickly brushed her teeth before brushing past him and going into her room. John tried to follow her to get her to talk, but she shut her door in his face and locked it. She came out a few minutes later as John waited in the hallway, dressed and her case bag slung over her shoulder. She walked out into the living room as John tried to stop her but she just pulled her coat and scarf on before taking out her mobile.

"Mycroft wants you to call him," John told Lexi as she pulled her boots on where John had left them by the door before she slid a pair of dark sunglasses on.

"Yup, course he does. I'm headed out. I might not be back for a few days," Lexi said hoarsely, her voice hollow and John followed her as she started off down the stairs.

"Hang on. Wait… wait, where are you going?" John asked her and Lexi paused on the stairs and looked back at him.

"Out, to see Mycroft. I've got work to do," Lexi said shortly before she took off, leaving John on the stairs. She had never been like that with him before, so cold and uncaring, so much like Sherlock. The door slammed shut downstairs as John returned to the flat and looked over at Sherlock with a deep frown on his face. John shook his head as Sherlock didn't even ask about Lexi or seemingly care that she had just left like she had. That night was the first sign that something was drastically wrong with Lexi and that morning was the first sign that Lexi was cracking. Of the gifts Lexi received for Christmas one remained unopened which Sherlock had left for her on her nightstand before the party begun so that she could open it privately. She put it away in a drawer and forgot about it, not knowing that it contained a Claddagh ring which Sherlock meant to give her as a promise ring to prove he was just as invested as she was which he thought might have been what she was looking for. The mysterious gift that she had been sent contained a ticket to redeem for a First Class ticket to New York and came with the simple message, just in case. Lexi put the ticket into the page of her book and left it there, waiting until that moment came when the gift needed to be used for her escape.


	67. Only Human

**Human**

**Christina Perri**

**I can hold my breath**

**I can bite my tongue**

**I can stay awake for days**

**If that's what you want**

**Be your number one**

**I can fake a smile**

**I can force a laugh**

**I can dance and play the part**

**If that's what you ask**

**Give you all I am**

**I can do it**

**I can do it**

**I can do it**

**But I'm only human**

**And I bleed when I fall down**

**I'm only human**

**And I crash and I break down**

**Your words in my head, knives in my heart**

**You build me up and then I fall apart**

**'Cause I'm only human**

**I can turn it on**

**Be a good machine**

**I can hold the weight of worlds**

**If that's what you need**

**Be your everything**

**I can do it**

**I can do it**

**I'll get through it**

**But I'm only human**

**And I bleed when I fall down**

**I'm only human**

**And I crash and I break down**

**Your words in my head, knives in my heart**

**You build me up and then I fall apart**

**'Cause I'm only human**

**I'm only human**

**I'm only human**

**Just a little human**

**I can take so much**

**'Til I've had enough**

**'Cause I'm only human**

**And I bleed when I fall down**

**I'm only human**

**And I crash and I break down**

**Your words in my head, knives in my heart**

**You build me up and then I fall apart**

**'Cause I'm only human**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Five- Only Human<strong>

**Third Person POV**

Lexi returned to the flat the day before New Year's Eve and again, it was like nothing had ever happened, except for the fact that she didn't look at Sherlock or even talk to him, barely acknowledging that he was there. She spent a good amount of time in her room either on her laptop or on her phone. On New Year's Eve morning, Sherlock was standing at the window with his back to the living room and was playing a sad lament on his violin. John walked into the room and sighed at the sight of him. Mrs. Hudson walked across to the table and picked up the plates, looking at John pointedly to make him realise that Sherlock hadn't touched his breakfast and Lexi hadn't even come out of her room for hers. John hummed resignedly as he took his jacket from the back of the chair and put it on. Sherlock stopped playing and picked up a pencil to make a notation on his music.

"Lovely tune, Sherlock. Haven't heard that one before," Mrs. Hudson said, breaking the silence in the flat.

"You composing?" John asked, trying to get Sherlock to at least talk a little bit. He and Lexi were barely even talking these days.

"Helps me to think," Sherlock said shortly as he turned back to the window, lifted the violin, and began to play the same tune again.

"What are you thinking about?" John asked Sherlock, trying to at least get something out of him. Sherlock suddenly spun around and put his violin down, pointing at John's laptop.

"The counter on your blog is still stuck at one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five," Sherlock said rapidly and John frowned slightly.

"Yeah, it's faulty. Can't seem to fix it. I was going to have Lexi see what she could do but…," John said trailing off when he saw something flash through Sherlock's eyes when he mentioned Lexi. Great so mentioning Lexi to Sherlock was also out. He already had to be careful about mentioning Sherlock to Lexi.

"Faulty – or you've been hacked and it's a message," Sherlock said taking out Irene's camera phone. He pulled up the security lock with its "I AM - LOCKED" screen.

"Hmm?" John asked as Sherlock typed "1895" into the phone. The phone beeped warningly and a message came up reading: "WRONG PASSCODE. 3 ATTEMPTS REMAINING". The enthusiasm in Sherlock's eyes died again. If he could just find out how to get into the phone then maybe….

"Just faulty," Sherlock said in frustration before he turned away and picked up his violin again.

"Right," John said as Sherlock began s to play the sad tune once more. It was for Lexi. It was a physical representation of what he was feeling. Sherlock couldn't understand why she was so distant again or why she barely looked at him or talked to him. He had walked into the living room after Christmas morning to find her sleeping on the couch. John had told him to just let her sleep and then she had woken up, taken one look at him before she ran for the bathroom. She was displaying all the signs of a bad hangover and then she left the flat and didn't come back for five days. Sherlock didn't know what he had done, but as soon as she came back she looked at John, ignored him, and walked straight to her room before shutting the door. That was it, no greeting. She had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn't been sleeping lately and her eyes were slightly red as if she had been crying. John said she had been with Mycroft for the last few days. Maybe they had a fight and it upset her. He would have to see. "Right. Well, I'm going out for a bit," John said, drawing Sherlock out of his thoughts. Sherlock didn't respond to him, choosing to ignore him. John turned and walked to the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson was tidying up. "Listen: has he ever had any kind of ..." John asked Mrs. Hudson quietly as he signed. "...girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?" John asked Mrs. Hudson who shook her head.

"I don't know. I thought that he and Lexi… I guess we were wrong," Mrs. Hudson said as she looked back to Lexi's closed door.

"How can we not know?" John asked Mrs. Hudson sighing in frustration.

"He's Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?" Mrs. Hudson asked John before shaking her head. "And Lexi is the same as him, never can know what she's thinking can we?" Mrs. Hudson asked and John smiled sadly.

"Right. See ya," John said before he trotted off down the stairs. Mrs Hudson looked at Sherlock playing his violin at the window, and then left the room. It was so hard to see Sherlock and Lexi so much at odds with each other. More importantly it was so difficult to see Lexi so completely changed. Downstairs, John walked out of the front door and pulled it closed. As he turned to go to the left, a woman was standing just to the right of the flat and she called out to him.

"John?" The woman asked.

"Yeah," John said as he stopped and turned around to her to see who was asking for him and the woman looked at him flirtatiously. "Hello," John said and it took him a moment but then he realized that she was very pretty and her body language appeared to be saying, "Take me big boy I'm all yours." "Hello!" John said again with interest. It wasn't everyday he met a beautiful girl who seemed to know him, but from where did she know him?

"So, any plans for New Year tonight?" The woman asked him as she walked closer and John laughed while his eyes continually roamed over her body.

"Er, nothing fixed. Nothing I couldn't heartlessly abandon," John told her as he zipped up his coat. "You have any ideas?" John asked her and the woman looked over her shoulder towards the road.

"One," The woman told him and John followed her gaze and sighed in exasperation when a black car pulled up and stopped beside them.

"You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn't have this bloody stupid power complex," John told her in exasperation. He probably wanted to talk to him about Lexi after he spent time with her. They get into the car and it pulled away and John looked out of the window as he sighed in exasperation. Just what he needed that day.

**Sherlock's POV**

As soon as John left the flat Sherlock made to follow after him after he looked down at the street and saw John talking to an unknown woman before getting into the back of a black car with her. It was not one of Mycroft's cars. Lexi walked out of her room then and Sherlock turned around to see her making tea. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants and an off the shoulder shirt with a tank top under it. Her hair was piled up in a messy bun on top of her head and she looked pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. She turned toward him once as she got the tea bag for her mug and she met his eyes for a brief second before she turned around and went back to making her tea.

"You might want to go check on John. Mycroft is still at his office. He didn't have plans for meeting with him today," Lexi said quietly, he voice hoarse and slightly hollow, and Sherlock almost didn't hear her at first. He looked at her, rising his eyebrow in shock. He hadn't said anything to her and she hadn't even seen John leave.

"How did you…?" Sherlock asked her trailing off as Lexi picked up her mug of tea and walked back to her room with it, not looking back at him.

"How do I know anything?" Lexi asked, sounding bitter before she walked right into her room and shut the door behind her. It was the first thing she had said to him since coming back to the flat and it was about John and Mycroft.

Sherlock stared towards her bedroom, his heart clenching painfully before he set his mouth grimly and walked towards his room. He changed quickly, looking at Lexi's closed door once as he stepped out of his own room. He raised his hand to knock on her door, but paused as he heard her talking in a low voice to someone, obviously over the phone. He lowered his hand and shook his head before he made for the door and pulled his coat and scarf on and starting off down the stairs, tracking John's current location on his phone through the GPS in John's mobile. He had a very bad feeling that he was losing Lexi and he had no idea how he was supposed to get her back or how he lost her in the first place. The truth of the matter was that there was something terribly wrong with his Lexi and once this nasty business was over with Ms. Adler, he intended to get to the bottom of it.

**John's POV**

The car took them to the biggest power complex in the neighbourhood, the empty shell of Battersea Power Station. Apparently an abandoned warehouse wasn't good enough for Mycroft anymore. Pulling up inside the building, John and the woman got out and she lead him through the abandoned structure. "Couldn't we just go to a café? Sherlock and Lexi don't follow me everywhere," John asked as the woman typed onto her phone as they continued walking along the outside metal catwalk, then stopped, and gestured ahead of herself.

"Through there," The woman told John who was starting to wonder when Mycroft got a new assistant, unless it was Anthea's day off. John gave her a look, then walked on. The woman turned and headed back the way she came, lifting her phone to her ear. "He's on his way. You were right – he thinks it's Mycroft," The woman told the person on the other line as John reached a large room and started talking straightaway even though he couldn't see anybody yet.

"He's writing sad music; doesn't eat; barely talks – only to correct the television. Lexi barely talks, eats, or even comes out of her room," John said as he walked further into the room, looking around the place before a figure finally began to step out of the shadows at the other end. "She just seems angry…actually I'm not sure what she is anymore. Now him, I'd say he was heartbroken but, er, well, he's Sherlock. He does all that anyw...," John said trailing off as Irene Adler walked into view.

"Hello, Doctor Watson," Irene said as she walked out from where she had been hiding, her heels clicking along the floor before she stopped some distance away from him and he simply stared at her for several seconds before he finally found some words.

"Tell him you're alive," John said quietly, but with a note of pleading in his voice. He couldn't fix Lexi, he had no idea at all how he could possibly help her or where he could ever start, but Sherlock would be alright if he knew that Irene was alive.

"He'd come after me," Irene said shaking her head. John knew that would happen too. Sherlock would end up going after her. For whatever reason that he had he would go after her if he knew she was alive. He needed to know that she was alive though. He could deal with one flatmate barely speaking or eating, but he could not endure both of them. Lexi looked ill, she wasn't sleeping, she was very pale, she seemed to have lost some weight, and she barely spoke a word on the rare occasion that she came out of her room. Sherlock on the other hand just moped around the flat, starting with the day that Lexi left right after Christmas.

"I'll come after you if you don't," John warned her as he turned his head slightly to the side and shook it barely. One of his best mates was pining over Irene who he thought was dead and his other mate barely spoke or looked at anyone.

"Mmm, I believe you," Irene said and John's nostrils flared in anger at how coolly she was taking all of this.

"You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you," John said louder than before as he nodded slightly in her direction.

"DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep," Irene told him and John eyed her in disbelief and exasperation.

"And I bet you know the record-keeper," John scoffed, not feeling any amount of good will towards the woman. Everything had gone wrong since they met her. She started everything. If not directly than indirectly.

"I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear," Irene told him while she crossed her arms and John eyed her as he took in a deep breath.

"Then how come I can see you, and I don't even want to?" John asked Irene calmly as he quirked his head to the side again slightly. Irene snorted slightly before she answered him.

"Look, I made a mistake," Irene said as she uncrossed her arms and held them up. "I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help," Irene told him and John shook his head at her.

"No," John told Irene while she shook his head. He would not help her, ever.

"It's for his own safety," Irene told him quirking her head slightly and John looked at her pointedly.

"So's this: tell him you're alive," John ordered her and she shook her head at him slightly.

"I can't," Irene told him and John sniffed in anger.

"Fine. I'll tell him, and I still won't help you," John told her fighting back his anger before he turned and started to walk away.

"What do I say?" Irene called after him and John stopped for just a moment.

"What do you normally say? You've texted him a lot," John yelled furiously, turning back to her and walking towards her. Irene took her phone out and held it up as John stopped and glared at her.

"Just the usual stuff," Irene told him casually.

"There is no 'usual' in this case," John shot back to her, shaking his head slightly and Irene looked down at her phone and started to read back messages she had sent to Sherlock.

""Good morning"; "I like your funny hat"; "I'm sad tonight. Let's have dinner"..." Irene read off as John looked round at her, startled. "... "You looked sexy on 'Crimewatch'. Let's have dinner"; "I'm not hungry, let's have dinner"," Irene continued as John stared at her in disbelief.

"You ... flirted with Sherlock Holmes?!" John asked her in exasperation and she shrugged slightly.

"At him. He never replies," Irene responded as she continued to look down at her phone. Her voice sounded bitter and John thought he heard her add, "Wonder why."

"No, Sherlock always replies – to everything. He's Mr Punchline," John said, shaking his head slightly. "He will outlive God trying to have the last word," John finished, silently adding in his head that he would, if Lexi didn't beat him to it first. Somehow he thought she would fight harder to have the last word.

"Does that make me special?" Irene asked him smirking evilly and John didn't like that look. It was dangerous.

"... I don't know. Maybe," John told her, unsure if it did make her special. He had thought for so long that Sherlock loved Lexi but maybe he was wrong. As Mrs. Hudson said, they never could understand what was going on in his head or hers for that matter and recent event seemed to prove that fact.

"Are you jealous?" Irene asked John as she licked her blood red lips slightly, drawing him back to the present moment and John sighed in exasperation.

"We're not a couple," John told Irene, wondering why he had to tell someone again that he had no feeling for Sherlock Holmes. Even when they were with Lexi people seemed to think that it was him and Sherlock in the relationship or that Lexi was his wife.

"Yes you are. There...," Irene told him, he mouth drawn into a tight line as she held up her phone to show John the screen, although he was too far away to read it.

""I'm not dead. Let's have dinner,"" Irene said with a slight smile, telling him what she had typed. She pressed the Send button and John turned away momentarily and then turned back to her.

"Who ... who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but – for the record – if anyone out there still cares, I'm not actually gay," John told Irene as he looked around as if to see if anyone else was going to hear this conversation, wanting it to be officially stated for the record. John was pretty sure that Sherlock's wasn't gay because of how much his eyes roamed when he saw Lexi in that dress at Irene's house, but lately everything he thought he knew about Sherlock and Lexi was being proven wrong.

"Well, I am." Irene said slowly with a small frown before she looked at John and grinned slightly. "Look at us both," Irene said and John laughed ruefully. Just then an orgasmic female sigh could be heard a short distance away. In the corridor outside the room, unseen by either of them, Sherlock switched his phone off and rapidly walked away, not sure how he felt about this, but having a feeling that Lexi had known all along. She knew and she hadn't said anything. John started to walk in the direction of the sound but Irene held out her hand to stop him and she looks at him pointedly. "I don't think so, do you?" Irene asked him before she smirked in a way that made John's skin crawl. He turned around and left to go and find Sherlock, getting a feeling that everything was about to change.

**Lexi's POV**

As soon as Sherlock left the flat I left my room after finishing up my call with Mycroft. I knew who John was going to see and where I had sent Sherlock off too. She thought she had hidden herself so well, but she couldn't quite hide from me so easily. I hadn't told Mycroft what I found out either. Only I knew because I wasn't quite sure if Sherlock would believe me without actual, physical proof. I had left the flat for five days, retuning late the night before. I went to spend time with Mycroft to clear my head and I had come to the conclusion that my happiness no longer mattered. If Sherlock loved Irene, which I was sure he did, then I would let Irene win. The only thing that mattered to me was that Sherlock was happy because I loved him and I didn't deserve happiness or his love, not anymore. I was far to broken to be the strong person he needed and if it was Irene that he needed than I would give him up. I would always give him up to someone who could give him better than I could. Sherlock had a chance at happiness but I had lost my chance already. I padded through the flat barefooted and headed down the stairs to see Mrs. Hudson. If I made an appearance every so often than people might just leave me alone. I knocked on the door to her flat and she opened it a minute later as I offered her up a small smile. She pulled me into her flat and gave me a tight hug before ushering me over to the couch.

"Sit down dear. You look so pale. Are you coming down with something?" Mrs. Hudson asked me as she mothered me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Hudson, really. Just a bit tired," I assured her as she went off to the kitchen, presumably to make some tea.

"You just rest here dear. I've got a bit of cleaning to do, but I don't want you moving from that spot," Mrs. Hudson told me as she handed me a steaming mug of tea, exactly the way I liked it.

"Alright, fine. I'll be good and sit here," I told her, giving her a small smile and she patted me on the arm before she picked up her basket of cleaning supplies and headed out to the hall, throwing me a worried look before she closed the door behind her. I sighed heavily once I was alone again and sank down into the couch cushions before blowing on my tea to cool it. I jumped in surprise when I heard the front door bang open and Mrs. Hudson scream. I was out of my seat and my tea was set down on the coffee table in a second as I moved faster than I had in weeks. I burst out of Mrs. Hudson's flat to find Neilson and Prentiss in the front foyer along with another agent I knew was named Thompson, Mrs. Hudson struggling as Thompson tried to pull her up the stairs. I dove into action and surprised Prentiss, kicking him in the side just as Neilson turned around and saw me. I froze instantly when he pointed a gun at Mrs. Hudson.

"You might want to rethink your next move Ms. MacKenna or should I call you Lexington?" Neilson asked me and I narrowed my eyes at him, growling lowly.

"If you know that name you should know that you never want to encourage me," I spat at Neilson as Prentiss straightened up, clutching his side as I raised my hands up to either side of my head as Neilson cocked his gun, ready to fire at Mrs. Hudson. Prentiss roughly twisted my hands behind my back and I laughed slightly at that. "As if that would really stop me," I told him with a smirk.

"A bullet into her head would," Neilson told me and I raised my eyebrow at him slightly and he gestured with his head and Thompson started dragging a struggling Mrs. Hudson up the stairs, Neilson leading the way up to our flat. Prentiss hauled me up the stairs as I kicked and fought, fighting so hard that I twisted my own wrist. Prentiss punched me in the jaw and I kicked blindly, hitting the banister of the stairs before he got me inside the living room of the flat. I breathed heavily as Thompson sat Mrs. Hudson down on our client chair and Prentiss pulled me over to one of the dining chairs, forcing me down onto it as I seethed. "Now then Ms. MacKenna, where is the phone?" Neilson asked me as he pointed a gun at Mrs. Hudson.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told Neilson coldly, playing stupid and Neilson suddenly brought his fist round and punched Mrs. Hudson who started to sob. "If I knew I would tell you!" I shouted at Neilson. "I have no more knowledge than you about where the phone is. If you had done your surveillance properly you would know I've been gone for a few days," I spat at Neilson as Prentiss punched me in the stomach and I laughed breathlessly. "I've suffered far worse than you," I told them and Neilson looked at me, his mouth drawn into a hard line.

"Then we'll have to think of a better way," Neilson told me and I looked up at him as he smirked slightly and I could see just a bit of fear in his eyes when I smirked back at him.

"By all means. I have all day," I told Neilson as Prentiss and Thompson looked down at me. I looked over at Mrs. Hudson and nodded at her slightly before taking a deep breath as Thompson punched me in the face. They still were nothing compared to Moriarty and the physical pain hurt a lot less than the emotional pain I had already been feeling.

**Sherlock's POV**

A short while later, Sherlock was walking down Baker Street towards his flat, his gaze distant and lost. Irene was alive and Lexi had known that she was, for however long a time, but she had stayed silent. Why? Because she knew he would have wanted proof. So, she must have found something about Irene which meant that she wasn't hiding as well as she thought she was. Of course, no one could exactly hide from Lexi. She was brilliant and most likely it hadn't taken her long to figure it out. The fact that Irene was alive was of no consequence to Sherlock. It meant nothing to him either way because Irene meant nothing to him at all. The only woman to him that had ever mattered to him was his woman who was Lexi. As Sherlock arrived at the front door of 221B, lost in his thoughts, and turned to put his key in the door, his expression sharpened when he realized that the door had been jemmied open. Someone had tried to break into Baker Street and they had succeeded. Slowly pushing the door open, Sherlock walked inside and carefully put his hand onto the opaque glass window of the interior door before also pushing that one open and stepping through into the hall. Immediately he saw that the door to 221A was ajar and through the slight opening he saw a mug of tea, hastily put down on the edge of the coffee table. Partway down the hall was a plastic bucket. He took a quick glance at the various items inside the bucket and saw that they were cleaning materials: a pair of rubber gloves, a duster, a spray can of what was probably screen and telephone sanitizer, a toilet brush and a bottle of disinfectant, and a couple of other items.

Mrs. Hudson was cleaning but the tea on the coffee table in her flat suggested that Lexi had come downstairs after he left which was a slight improvement that she had come out of her room at all. He followed her path as it was clear to see, she heard the door and most likely Mrs. Hudson, and she quickly put her tea down and left the door to 221A open when she came out into the hall to face the intruders. Someone fell against the wall and broke loose a few paint chips, well aimed kick to the ribs, most likely Lexi's first attack while she still had the element of surprise. The rug was slightly folded back which suggested that whatever happened after that, Lexi was restrained or at least something had stopped her from attack further, most likely a gun trained on Mrs. Hudson. Lexi wouldn't stop if it was a gun trained on her. No, she was calculating. Recently Sherlock was starting to suspect after what he had seen at Irene's house and the fact that she knew one of the men and that they were CIA trained killers, that Lexi had some sort of specialized training. The extent of her training Sherlock was unsure of but combine her hand to hand skills with her deadly accuracy which was exemplified by her hitting him with a Walnut perfectly over such a distance and she seemed to have some rather deadly skills. She did not however use them for anything other than self-defence so she had a rather high moral complex, that or someone had taught her to be that way. Sherlock believed it was the former to the later.

Now this Neilson, he also knew of Lexi so they had met before and Lexi had mentioned that Joanie, whoever that person was though Lexi had been mentioning them a lot of late, would not be happy to find that he had hurt her in any way. So this Joanie knew of her skills, in fact if Sherlock recalled correctly, Lexi had said that it was Joanie who had given her her gun which Mycroft didn't know about and who had taught her to shoot. Taught her to shoot with deadly accuracy so Sherlock could conclude that this Joanie had CIA training or something similar to it and had passed on her knowledge to Lexi. Why pass it on though? Lexi never worked for the CIA. She had however wanted training after her encounter with her serial killer kidnapper so Joanie had taught her how to defend herself. Lexi received more than just basic training in fact she could be considered an assassin in her own rights. So, whoever Joanie was, she wasn't exactly safe and given the look on Mycroft's face when Lexi mentioned her, Mycroft didn't approve of her. On the subject of Mycroft, he and Lexi had been spending a lot of time together lately, Sherlock just having come to the conclusion that she had been with him for the past few days. He could consider that information more later right now he was piecing together what had happened in his head.

Sherlock stepped closer to the stairs and saw a couple of scuff marks on the wall just above the risers. He instantly realized that one of the marks was made by someone awkwardly walking backwards up the stairs and having to feel their way with their feet, while the second was made by someone following the first person while facing forwards but being thrown off-balance by something. Looking more closely at the wall he saw a small indentation in the wallpaper. Putting a finger against the dent, his gaze became more intense as he deduced that it was formed by someone dragging their hand along the wall, clawing at it in a desperate attempt to stop themselves being hauled backwards up the stairs. The depth of the nail mark could only have been made by someone with fairly long nails, and now Sherlock knew that the person being dragged was Mrs Hudson as Lexi had been biting her nails lately. Slowly he raised his head while he visualised Mrs. Hudson struggling as she was half-pulled and half-carried upstairs by a man, one man preceding them. In his mind, he heard Mrs. Hudson's panic-stricken protests of, "Stop it!" at her assailants before she cried out Sherlock's name in terror and anguish.

There was a third man though, Sherlock realized as he visualized Lexi being pulled up the stairs, her arms twisted behind her back as she struggled to break his hold on her. She gasped in pain as she fought so hard that she twisted her own wrist And earn her a fe cuts. Almost unnoticeably, there was a few drops of blood on the stairs, not a big injury, but enough to make it bleed a little. Sherlock saw in his mind the person dragging Lexi punch her in the jaw before he hauled her up the stairs. The banister of the stairs further up was splintered and one of the boards was split in two. She had kicked blindly as she struggled. She was no match for three larger men however, especially not in her current state as she had hardly slept or ate recently and therefore most of her energy was probably used up trying to struggle out of her captors hold. She still kept trying though for the sake of Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock stared intensely up the stairs and slowly, without a muscle in his face moving, his expression changed from deductive to outright murderous. Sherlock stood there for a few seconds while his rage built before he got moving, heading cautiously up the stairs as he gritted his teeth.

Sherlock slowly pushed open the door to the living room of 221B. In front of the fireplace Mrs, Hudson was sitting on a dining chair facing the sofa, and behind her stood Neilson, the CIA man who led the raid on Irene's house. He was holding another pistol with an over-compensatory silencer attached and was aiming the gun at the back of Mrs Hudson's head. Lexi was sitting on a dining chair near the window and her feet and hands were duck taped together. Most likely because it was the only method they could think of to stop her from getting out of her bonds, given her training which they must have known about. Sherlock growled lowly in his chest when he took a look at her face. Lexi had a split lip, a bruised jaw, and the beginnings of a black eye. From the way she was sitting Sherlock deduced that she had also bruised her ribs on her right side. Her right wrist was also twisted and she had several cuts on her face. It looked like she had been punched repeatedly, but she had a slight smirk on her face as he walked into the room and her eyebrow raised slightly over her black eye. One of Neilson's men was standing near Lexi, looking out of the window but he turned when the door opened. From the wince on his face when he turned, Sherlock deduced that he had several cracked ribs on his right side which meant that he was the man that Lexi had attacked down stairs. The other man was standing near the sliding door into the kitchen, guarding it. As Sherlock slowly strolled into the room with his hands clasped behind his back, Mrs Hudson who was already crying quietly began to sob a little louder.

"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson sobbed as Lexi sat quietly, her eyes calculating as he flicked his gaze over to her once.

"Don't snivel, Mrs Hudson. It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet," Sherlock told her as he looked at Neilson. "What a tender world that would be," Sherlock said and he heard Lexi snort. Both he and Neilson looked her way just as she rolled her eyes.

"If I could, I would so smack you right now," Lexi told Sherlock who smirked at her slightly as she held up her bound hands.

"I'm sure you would," Sherlock told her before he turned back to Neilson, trying to act calm about the entire thing. Lexi's comment was to let him know that she was alright without saying the words.

"Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson pleaded, sobbing quietly as she gazed up at him.

"I believe you have something that we want, Mr Holmes," Neilson told him, his mouth drawn into a hard line as his hand tightened around his gun slightly.

"Then why don't you ask for it?" Sherlock asked him calmly as he walked closer and held out his right hand towards Mrs Hudson. She flailed towards it, whimpering, and he gently turned back the sleeve of her right hand and looked at the bruises on her wrist.

"Sher...," Mrs. Hudson said, crying and Sherlock's heart tightened slightly as the only person who called him Sher was Lexi and she didn't anymore.

"I tried asking Ms. MacKenna, but she didn't wish to comply with us, in fact she was being rather difficult," Neilson said and Sherlock titled his head slightly at that. That was Lexi. When she didn't want to be helpful she was unnecessarily difficult. "I've been asking this one. She doesn't seem to know anything either," Neilson continued as he nodded down at Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock's gaze raised a little and he saw that the right shoulder of Mrs Hudson's cardigan had been ripped at the seam, exposing her skin underneath. "But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr Holmes?" Neilson asked as Sherlock looked a little higher and saw a cut on her right cheek. His eyes flicked across to Neilson's right hand holding the pistol. He had a silver ring on his third finger and there was blood on it. Sherlock raised his head and looks directly at Neilson, but he wasn't deducing him. In very rapid succession he was picking out target points on his body, ones he fully intended to inflict injury to.

**Carotid Artery**

**Skull**

**Eyes**

He target before his eyes dropped to Neilson's arm and chest.

**Artery**

**Lungs**

**Ribs**

He raised his eyes to Neilson's again. "I believe I do," Sherlock told him shortly. Mrs. Hudson whimpered as he released her hands and straightened up, putting his hands behind his back again.

"Oh, please, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson begged as Sherlock flicked his gaze over to Lexi once who had her eyes closed but her lips were moving rapidly before she opened her eyes and gestured to Neilson slightly with her head, sharing her thoughts with him silently.

"First, get rid of your boys," Sherlock told Neilson, complying with what Lexi had told him.

"Why?" Neilson asked Sherlock and Lexi snorted from over in her chair.

"I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room," Sherlock said and Lexi smirked in her seat.

"And from what I've seen so far, we already have enough incompetence in the room," Lexi remarked and Sherlock smirked slightly. Her voice wasn't cold or unemotional any more, in fact it sounded like the old Lexi who would make jokes at crime scenes and sass serial killers. Neilson hesitated for a moment, then glanced at his colleagues.

"You two, go to the car," Neilson ordered his men and Lexi shook her head, throwing a look over at Sherlock which he picked up on.

"Then get into the car and drive away," Sherlock said as he looked back to Neilson. "Don't try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn't work," Sherlock finished clicking the 'k' of 'work' loudly.

"Don't let the door kick you on the way out!" Lexi shouted after the men as the two of them left the room and headed down the stairs.

"Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me," Sherlock told Neilson, smirking slightly at Lexi's comment.

"So you can point a gun at me?" Neilson scoffed and Lexi took a deep breath before letting it out in irritation.

"I'm unarmed," Sherlock told him, stepping back and spreading his arms to either side.

"Mind if I check?" Neilson asked him and Lexi nodded at him slightly as Sherlock watched her reach toward the dining table as Neilson was distracted and pick up John's pocket knife which he had left there at some point.

"Oh, I insist," Sherlock told Neilson as he came around from behind Mrs. Hudson who whimpered nervously. Everyone except Sherlock missed when Lexi started cutting at the duct tape around her wrists, shaking her head in exasperation.

"Don't do anything," Mrs. Hudson begged as Neilson walked over to Sherlock and patted his breast pocket and flicked his coat open while Sherlock stood meekly with his arms still spread. Walking around behind him, Neilson started patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically at Mrs. Hudson and Lexi who now had her hands free and bent over, quickly and expertly slicing through the tape around her ankles while Sherlock was already covertly starting to bend his right arm towards himself. He whipped out the sanitizer spray can which he had hidden in a secret pocket of his coat, twisted around, and sprayed the contents directly into Neilson's eyes. As Neilson screamed, Sherlock reared back to head-butt him in the face only for something red to flash in the side of his vision before Neilson fell back over the coffee table, unconscious. Sherlock looked up surprised and saw Lexi breathing heavily, the marble bust of Angus in one hand which she had apparently used to hit Neilson over the head with. She looked down at Neilson and made an amused sound before she ran a hand through her hair and turned around, walking back over to the fireplace to return Angus to his proper spot. Sherlock triumphantly flipped the can into the air as he turned around, still slightly shocked by Lexi's display of violence which had opened a small cut on Neilson's head.

"Moron," Sherlock said, slamming the can onto the dining table, before he hurried over to Mrs. Hudson who Lexi was hugging protectively around the shoulders, and, tutting in annoyance at what the man had done to her, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Oh, thank you," Mrs. Hudson said tearfully as Lexi kissed the top of her head affectionately.

"You're all right now, you're all right," Sherlock told her gently stroking her face.

"Yes," Mrs. Hudson said and Sherlock looked over his shoulder towards Neilson's prone body, his expression still promising murder.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, looking up at Lexi as she met his gaze for the first time in a while and gave him a small smile which was promising.

"I'm fine. They hit like bloody girls," Lexi said with a smirk and Sherlock chuckled slightly as Lexi straightened up wincing a little as she did so. "Okay, the ribs were rather good, I'll give him that," Lexi said as she went over to John's chair and sat down. "I think that one was more retaliation," Lexi said and Sherlock shook his head at her. "He'll be out for a little while. I didn't hit him nearly as hard as I wanted to," Lexi remarked and Sherlock looked back over to Neilson. If that wasn't as hard as she wanted to, Sherlock didn't want to see how hard she did want to hit him. She looked up at him and smirked slightly and Sherlock looked at her dark eyes and realized that Lexi would fight to the death for those she cared about.

**Third Person POV**

Not long afterwards, the black car pulled up outside 221 and John got out, glad to be rid of Irene who at least had the decency to offer her car to take him back to the flat. The car drove away and John walked to the door, then stopped when he saw a handwritten note attached underneath the knocker that was clearly written in Sherlock's handwriting. He looked around the street for a moment, then pushed the door open and went inside. Written on the note was:

**CRIME IN PROGRESS**

**PLEASE DISTURB**

He quickly trotted upstairs and hurried into the living room, ready for any action that he might have to take and fearing the worse.

"What's going on?" John asked quickly, stopping at the sight of Neilson, bound and gagged with duct tape and sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His nose was broken and blood had run down his face and was dripping from his chin. Mrs. Hudson was sitting on the sofa and Sherlock was in a chair nearby, holding Neilson's pistol aimed at him with one hand, and his phone to his ear with the other. Lexi however was standing near Neilson, her knuckles wrapped and a happy gleam in her eyes as John realized that she had been the one to break his nose. "Jeez. What the hell is happening?" John asked as Lexi unwrapped her hand and flexed her fingers on her left hand. He noted that her right wrist was taped up and that she winced slightly as she walked over to Sherlock's chair and sat in it before adopting a prayer pose, looking so much like Sherlock in that instance.

"Lexi and Mrs. Hudson's been attacked by an American. I'm restoring balance to the universe and Lexi is sending a message," Sherlock told him as John immediately hurried over to sit down next to Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, Mrs Hudson, my God. Are you all right?" John asked her, glaring at Neilson as he put his arm around her shoulders. "Jesus, what have they done to you?" John asked her as Lexi stood up and walked around Neilson, watching him sidelong with a smirk on her face as he flinched away from her.

"Far less than I've done," Lexi remarked as she perched on the arm of the sofa near Mrs. Hudson and John looked up at her, surprised by her dark tone as she narrowed her eyes at Neilson who was watching her closely. Mrs Hudson broke down in tears again then.

"Oh, I'm just being so silly," Mrs. Hudson cried, covering her face with her hands.

"No, no," John told her pulling her closer as Lexi leaned and pressed an affectionate kiss to her head while John watched her. She could go from murderously glaring at Neilson to being very affectionate in all of a second. Sherlock got to his feet, still holding the phone to his ear while aiming the gun at Neilson.

"Downstairs. Take her downstairs and look after her," Sherlock told John who stood up and helped Mrs. Hudson to her feet as Lexi also stood up.

"All right, it's all right. I'll have a look at that," John told Mrs. Hudson gently as he walked her over to the door.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Mrs. Hudson told him tearfully. As she walked out of the room, John stepped over to Sherlock, whose eyes were fixed on Neilson.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" John asked him as Lexi stepped closer to the two of them.

"I expect so. Now go," Sherlock told and they looked at each other for a moment, then turned their gazes to Neilson so that he now had three murderous expressions aimed at him. John turned to leave the room but just before his head was completely turned away, a small smile began to form on his face, wanting Neilson to understand that he was about to encounter a whole world of hurt. One thing that John knew above all else was that you never wanted to get on Lexi's bad side and hurting Mrs. Hudson was definite cause for her anger. Judging from the cut on his right temple and the large bruise forming on it she had hit him over the head with a large blunt object already. "Lestrade. We've had a break-in at Baker Street. Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance," Sherlock said as Lestrade finally answered the phone and Sherlock finally took his eyes off Neilson. He walked across to the table and laid the pistol down on it as Lexi followed him over, her eyebrow raised in a deadly fashion. "Oh, no-no-no-no-no, we're fine. No, it's the, uh, it's the burglar. He's got himself rather badly injured," Sherlock said as Neilson looked nervously at the consulting detectives while Sherlock listened to Lestrade's question. "Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull ... suspected punctured lung," Sherlock said as he looked over his shoulder at Neilson. He held the phone out to Lexi and she took it, smirking dangerously at Neilson as she finished the conversation.

"He fell out of a window," Lexi said calmly, still looking into Neilson's eyes as she hung up.

Just downstairs in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen, she and John were standing by the sink while John gently applied some antiseptic to the cut on her cheek and she flinched slightly.

"Ooh, it stings," Mrs. Hudson said and John nodded as he continued cleaning the cut. A moment later a shape plummeted down past the window and landed with a crash. John and Mrs. Hudson looked at the window in surprise. "Ooh. That was right on my bins," Mrs. Hudson said as John heard an agonized groan from outside. Remind him never to piss Lexi off.

Sometime later, after it was fully dark outside the ambulance that was sent over to 221 was only now pulling away. The medics had given Lexi a once over and taped up her ribs, but she was only mildly injured and told to not overexert herself for a few days. Sherlock and Lexi were standing outside Speedy's café with Lestrade, who apparently decided that his least irritating officer was himself.

"And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?" Lestrade asked Lexi and Sherlock carefully as the Irish girl turned and looked at him with her eyebrow slightly raised and a small smirk on her face.

"It's all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. We lost count," Sherlock told him and not bothering to comment on that, Lestrade walked away while he wondered how a slip of a girl like Lexi could inflict so much damage.

Sherlock and Lexi walked in through the kitchen door of 221A and wiped their feet carefully on the doormat. Mrs. Hudson and John were sitting at her small kitchen table and the wall clock showed that it was 7:23 p.m. Mrs Hudson was still very shaken by the events, but seemed to be doing better than before. After John had gone down stairs to look after Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock had stood back as Lexi looked right at Neilson and told him that if he was lucky, Joanie would go easy on him. That solidified Sherlock's theory that this Joanie was someone to be reckoned with when Neilson's eyes had widened quite largely in obvious terror. Sherlock had sat back when Lexi requested the first few punches. It was after all only fair as Sherlock could tell that Neilson ordered his men to beat her when she hadn't given them what they wanted. His first clue should have been when she wrapped her knuckles. Her blows were calculated and precise to cause the most amount of pain for Neilson without inflicting injury or pain to herself. She knew exactly what she was doing and as Sherlock watched her he noticed that she rather enjoyed it a bit too. It seemed to him that she was getting some pent up anger and aggression out on Neilson's face so he let her deal with him herself, though he had pushed him out of the window himself as Lexi's ribs forced her to have to sit down again.

"She'll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her," John told the two consulting detectives.

"No," Mrs. Hudson protested as Lexi stood behind her and put her arms on Mrs. Hudson's shoulders, the older woman reaching up and patting her hand.

"Of course, but she's fine," Sherlock told John as Lexi leaned down and kissed Mrs. Hudson's cheek, smiling at her, the first smile John had really seen on her face in a long time.

"No, she's not. Look at her," John told Sherlock as he opened the fridge door and peered inside before picking something up which was one of the little pies Lexi made a few days ago for Christmas. "She's got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor's orders," John said with a sigh and kicking the fridge door shut, Sherlock frowned at John and bit into the mince pie.

"Don't be absurd," Sherlock told John as Lexi shook her head at the army doctor.

"She's in shock, for God's sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?" John asked Mrs. Hudson as both boys missed Lexi's knowing smile.

"Safest place I know," Sherlock said, wiping crumbs from his mouth and looking down at Mrs. Hudson. Both boys were surprised however when Lexi straightened up and reached down inside her shirt before she pulled the phone out of her bra. She handed it off to the shocked Sherlock as John's eyebrows raised to his hairline.

"You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot," Mrs. Hudson told Sherlock as she laughed briefly. "I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry and pass it to Lexi," Mrs. Hudson finished as she patted Lexi's hand again.

"Thank you," Sherlock told the both of them, tossing the phone into the air before putting it in his coat pocket and looking over at John. "Shame on you, John Watson."

"Shame on me?!" John asked Sherlock in disbelief.

"Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street?" Sherlock asked as he put a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him as Lexi leaned against the wall behind her. "England would fall," Sherlock finished sternly and Mrs. Hudson laughed and stroked his hand as Sherlock chuckled gently. John smiled at the three of them, noting however that Lexi was no longer smiling and that she had her arms crossed in front of her chest and was back to looking at everyone except Sherlock.

Later, the boys retired upstairs and John was glad that he had managed Lexi to join them out in the living room. He treated her injuries as well which wouldn't take longer than a week or two at most to heal. She was sitting on the couch, her shoulders wrapped in a large quilt which Mrs. Hudson made her take upstairs with her. She was staring into the depths of the fire in the fireplace and not saying a word. John fixed himself and Lexi a drink in the kitchen, hoping that it might make her feel better, and then he walked into the living room as Sherlock took his coat off. He handed Lexi over her drink which she saluted him with and graced him with the barest of smiles before she went back to staring at the fire.

"Where is it now?" John asked Sherlock, talking about the phone.

"Where no-one will look," Sherlock told him simply as he walked across to the window, picked up his violin, and then turned his back to the room.

"Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures," John remarked as he saw Lexi take a large sip of her whiskey.

"Yes, it is," Sherlock said simply as he tinkered with his violin and checked its tuning. John watched him for a moment.

"So, she's alive then. How are we feeling about that?" John asked Sherlock quietly, not noticing when Lexi looked away and shrunk in on herself after downing the rest of her drink. In the distance, Big Ben began to toll the hour and Sherlock pulled in a sharp breath.

"Happy New Year, John, Lexi," Sherlock said, deflecting the question.

"Do you think you'll be seeing her again?" John asked Sherlock who turned around, not yet meeting his eyes. Sherlock picked up his bow and flipped it in the air before starting to play "Auld Lang Syne" and looking at John pointedly. John got the message and sat down in his chair while Sherlock turned back to the window and continued to play. John turned around to look when a soft voice started singing from the folds of the quilt.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne!" Lexi sang strongly along with the tune Sherlock was playing as she stared at the fire, not looking at him or Sherlock who had turned around. "For auld lang syne, my dear. For auld lang syne. We'll take a cup o' kindness yet for auld lang… syne," Lexi finished her voice cracking on the last verse before she pushed the quilt off her shoulders, put her tumbler down on the coffee table, and walked away, her bedroom door clicking shut a moment later.

Not far away, within sight of St Paul's Cathedral, Irene was walking along the street when her phone trilled a text alert. Taking the phone from her bag and checking the message, she saw that it read:

**Happy New Year**

**SH**

She looked at the message for a long time before continuing onwards with a smirk on her face. Her plan had worked perfectly and now he could sit and digest the news of her miraculous return from the dead for a however was sadly looking back at the closed door of Lexi's room after he sent the text out of a good will gesture, knowing what it felt like to be alone on the holidays. He thought those days were over.


	68. Goodbye Mr Holmes

**Hello sweeties so we only have one more chapter left after this one and this might break your hearts slightly and well crush them but good news, it all gets better in the next chapter. I will see you all back here on Thursday for the conclusion of Scandal in Belgravia. Below are the two songs that inspired this chapter. **

**Jar of Hearts**

_I know I can't take one more step towards you_

_'Cause all that's waiting is regret_  
><em>Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore<em>  
><em>You lost the love I loved the most<em>

_I learned to live half alive_  
><em>And now you want me one more time<em>

_And who do you think you are?_  
><em>Runnin' 'round leaving scars<em>  
><em>Collecting your jar of hearts<em>  
><em>And tearing love apart<em>  
><em>You're gonna catch a cold<em>  
><em>From the ice inside your soul<em>  
><em>So don't come back for me<em>  
><em>Who do you think you are?<em>

_I hear you're asking all around_  
><em>If I am anywhere to be found<em>  
><em>But I have grown too strong<em>  
><em>To ever fall back in your arms<em>

_And I've learned to live half alive_  
><em>And now you want me one more time<em>

_And who do you think you are?_  
><em>Runnin' 'round leaving scars<em>  
><em>Collecting your jar of hearts<em>  
><em>And tearing love apart<em>  
><em>You're gonna catch a cold<em>  
><em>From the ice inside your soul<em>  
><em>So don't come back for me<em>  
><em>Who do you think you are?<em>

_And it took so long just to feel alright_  
><em>Remember how to put back the light in my eyes<em>  
><em>I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed<em>  
><em>'Cause you broke all your promises<em>  
><em>And now you're back<em>  
><em>You don't get to get me back<em>

_And who do you think you are?_  
><em>Runnin' 'round leaving scars<em>  
><em>Collecting your jar of hearts<em>  
><em>And tearing love apart<em>  
><em>You're gonna catch a cold<em>  
><em>From the ice inside your soul<em>  
><em>So don't come back for me<em>  
><em>Don't come back at all<em>

_And who do you think you are?_  
><em>Runnin' 'round leaving scars<em>  
><em>Collecting your jar of hearts<em>  
><em>Tearing love apart<em>  
><em>You're gonna catch a cold<em>  
><em>From the ice inside your soul<em>  
><em>Don't come back for me<em>  
><em>Don't come back at all<em>

_Who do you think you are?_

_Who do you think you are?_

_Who do you think you are?_

**Let Her Go**

_Well you only need the light when it's burning low_  
><em>Only miss the sun when it starts to snow<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
><em>Only hate the road when you're missin' home<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>  
><em>And you let her go<em>

_Staring at the bottom of your glass_  
><em>Hoping one day you'll make a dream last<em>  
><em>But dreams come slow and they go so fast<em>

_You see her when you close your eyes_  
><em>Maybe one day you'll understand why<em>  
><em>Everything you touch surely dies<em>

_But you only need the light when it's burning low_  
><em>Only miss the sun when it starts to snow<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
><em>Only hate the road when you're missin' home<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Staring at the ceiling in the dark_  
><em>Same old empty feeling in your heart<em>  
><em>'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast<em>

_Well you see her when you fall asleep_  
><em>But never to touch and never to keep<em>  
><em>'Cause you loved her too much<em>  
><em>And you dived too deep<em>

_Well you only need the light when it's burning low_  
><em>Only miss the sun when it starts to snow<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
><em>Only hate the road when you're missin' home<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_And you let her go (oh, oh, ooh, oh no)_  
><em>And you let her go (oh, oh, ooh, oh no)<em>  
><em>Will you let her go?<em>

_'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low_  
><em>Only miss the sun when it starts to snow<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
><em>Only hate the road when you're missin' home<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low_  
><em>Only miss the sun when it starts to snow<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
><em>Only hate the road when you're missin' home<em>  
><em>Only know you love her when you let her go<em>

_And you let her go_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Six- Goodbye Mr. Holmes<strong>

**Sherlock's POV**

The next day before either John or Sherlock awoke Lexi had slipped out of the flat. Sherlock found a simple note left behind by her that only said she was out for a few days and she didn't know when she would be back. Not able to stand spending time in the flat without her there, Sherlock had retreated to Bart's lab to try and solve the conundrum of Irene's phone. Sherlock was currently looking at an X-ray on a computer screen which was showing the interior parts of Irene's phone. Molly was nearby and had been chattering on for the last few minutes since she had entered the room without stopping and it was doing nothing to help with Sherlock's already dark mood at having Lexi gone again. He leaned closer to the screen and saw that there were four small round dark areas scattered around the phone. He sat back slightly, exasperated. Lexi would be able to do far more with the phone then he could with her technology skills, but she was never around long enough for him to ask her to take a look at it and she had gone back to not talking to anyone at all again, except to answer Mrs. Hudson or John if they asked her a deliberate question. Sherlock was currently at a loss about what he could do to help her or to change things between them. All he could tell was that she was upset and he theorized that it might have something to do with Alistair's death. Lexi only not talking to him might be because she shared more with him about how close she was with Alistair or because Alistair had specifically spoken to him alone. The only conclusion Sherlock could make was that whatever was wrong with her was biased off of sentiment in origin.

"Is that a phone?" Molly asked Sherlock as she caught sight of what he was X-raying, bringing him back to the present.

"It's a camera phone," Sherlock clarified, not knowing how that exactly made a difference, but wanting to correct her anyway.

"And you're X-raying it?" Molly asked and Sherlock sighed in exasperation and closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again.

"Yes, I am," Sherlock told her, worrying for the state of her brain cells. It was quite clear what he was doing. Where was Lexi?

"Whose phone is it?" Molly asked him and Sherlock began to wonder when she would let the subject go and stop asking stupid questions of him.

"A woman's," Sherlock told her shortly.

"Lexi's?" Molly asked him without missing a beat.

"You think it's Lexi's because I'm X-raying her possessions?" Sherlock asked Molly curiously, taking note of the fact that when he said a woman's, Molly jumped to Lexi first unlike John who had jumped to Irene when he said the woman.

"Well, we all do silly things," Molly said, laughing nervously.

"Yes," Sherlock said as he lifted his head as he was suddenly inspired and he looked round to Molly. "They do, don't they? Very silly," Sherlock said and Molly looked confused as he got to his feet and took the phone out of the X-ray machine and held it up. "She sent this to my address, and she loves to play games."

"She does?" Molly asked Sherlock in confusion, not sure if they were still talking about Lexi or not. Sherlock pulled up the "I AM - LOCKED" screen and typed "221B" into the phone. The phone beeped warningly and a message came up reading: "WRONG PASSCODE. 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING". He looked exasperatedly at it and sat down again.

**Third Person POV**

Two months had passed since they discovered that Irene Adler was alive. Lexi's birthday came and went. John had planned to have a party for her, but she was nowhere to be found. For the past two months she kept disappearing for days on end without even returning to the flat. Her behaviour was becoming steadily more alarming and John was ready to sit her down and force her to talk. Only problem was, that she was never there or when she was, she came back in the late hours of the morning and left before either he or Sherlock woke up. John had spotted her twice in a coffee shop near St. Bart's sitting with Mycroft both of them talking lowly and neither of them acknowledging his presence when he tried to get their attention. The more she avoided him and Sherlock, the more time she spent with Mycroft. John wondered if maybe he had gotten it wrong before and that she had fallen for the other Holmes' brother. John and Sherlock had just returned to the flat from Scotland Yard after finishing up a rather small case before John had dragged Sherlock to Tesco's to pick up a few things. Sherlock started up the stairs quickly, leaving John to take care of the bags. He paused when he smelt smoke coming from the flat upstairs. It wasn't smoke from a fire, but rather it contained nicotine if Sherlock's nose and his sudden craving for a fag were any indication. Sherlock reached the top of the stairs and then stopped abruptly outside the kitchen door. He sniffed deeply. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he turned and looked into the kitchen, then walked across to the window and checked it, realising that it was open. Turning and sniffing again, Sherlock realized that the smell was coming from the living room. He turned around to see Lexi sitting in his chair, blowing a lungful of smoke out into the air.

He froze in shock as it was the first time he had seen her in over a week. Her hair was drawn up in a severe bun, a few pieces falling free and framing her face and her eyes looked wild and also cold and distant and no longer had that light or spark of happiness to them. She was wearing a dress which was very unlike her. The top of the dress had a white and black hounds-tooth pattern before it continued in an all-black pencil skirt that fell to Lexi's knees. She was also wearing a pair of black heels and she was wearing her black glasses she generally only put on at crime scenes. She looked business like, in fact, she looked a lot like Anthea did when she was working with Mycroft. His Lexi hated dressing so formally and was more comfortable in jeans or sweatpants and a stolen shirt. This girl may look like her, but she was by no means of the definition his Lexi. She hardly looked anything like the girl she was before and the girl John remembered. Sherlock thought back to a moment that felt like a life time ago now during their first case together when he had offered her a nicotine patch. She said she was good, that she didn't need it. If he recalled correctly she had once mentioned that she would never do drugs again, not even the legal kind like nicotine. So, what caused her to change her mind? John came into the kitchen with bags of shopping and dropped them off on the kitchen table before he noticed that Sherlock was staring into the living room. John frowned in confusion before turning to see what Sherlock was staring at so intensely and he jumped and swore in surprise when he saw Lexi sitting in Sherlock's chair, a burning cigarette in her hand which John now realized was the cause of the smoke he smelt.

"Jesus," John said as Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly and blew out another lungful of smoke.

"Close," She remarked before she stood up and dropped her cigarette into a coffee cup on the mantelpiece. "Hello," Lexi said, no trace of an Irish accent to her voice, in fact her accent was rather posh, almost like Mycroft's.

"Where have you been!?" John demanded to know and Lexi just shrugged at him as Sherlock stayed frozen in silence as he watched her carefully, coming to the conclusion that anything left of who she was before was currently gone.

"Out. I've been keeping busy," Lexi told John lightly as she walked over to the dining table and casually looked through some of the papers on the table from their last few cases they worked without her.

"Out?!" John asked her in disbelief. "You've been out?" John asked her in exasperation as she turned round and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Mmm, yes. You have a client by the way," Lexi informed them and John frowned in confusion as he looked around the flat, not seeing anyone else.

"You…?" John asked, trailing off when Lexi shook her head.

"No, she's in Sherlock's room," Lexi said as she walked over and sat down on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles, sitting in such and un Lexi like position. Lexi never sat properly on furniture nor was she ever this posh business woman.

"What, in his bedroom?!" John asked Lexi in disbelief as Sherlock turned around and walked down the hall way towards his room. John looked at Lexi for a long moment before he turned and followed Sherlock along the passage and into the detective's bedroom, then his jaw dropped when he saw the bed. "Ohhh," John sighed as he saw that Irene, fully clothed, was asleep in Sherlock's bed.

Sometime later after Irene showered, her hair loose and damp around her shoulders, the four of them convened to the living room. Irene was wearing one of Sherlock's dressing gowns and was sitting in his chair in the living room. The boys were sitting at the table looking at her while Lexi was sitting on the couch looking pensive as she drank a glass of whiskey which she had gotten up to get herself. A heavy tension fell over the flat and John shot nervous looks across to Lexi who looked better and not at the same time. She looked like she had been sleeping more, but he wasn't sure if that was true or just because of the makeup she was wearing. For once though, she wasn't frowning, in fact she was smiling slightly, though it didn't reach her eyes as if it was all a show.

"So who's after you?" Sherlock asked Irene, being the first to break the heavy silence in the flat.

"People who want to kill me," Irene replied and Sherlock sighed slightly in exasperation.

"Who's that?" Sherlock prompted her and Irene smirked at him slightly before she answered him.

"Killers," She said simply as she turned to look at him for a moment and John looked over to Lexi as she snorted and Irene sneered at her as Lexi just raised her eyebrow which John knew was very dangerous for everyone in the room.

"It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific," John pointed out to her before Sherlock took over the questioning again.

"So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them," Sherlock stated and Irene nodded slightly.

"It worked for a while," Irene told him, flicking her gaze over to him briefly before she looked away again.

"Except you let John know that you were alive, and therefore me. Lexi already knew," Sherlock said and both John and Irene looked over to Lexi in surprised and she only nodded her head slightly, confirming that Sherlock was right.

"I knew you'd keep my secret," Irene told Sherlock, looking back at him, before looking away, not meeting his eyes.

"You couldn't," Sherlock told her and Irene looked back at him quickly.

"But you did, didn't you?" Irene asked Sherlock before she flicked her gaze over to Lexi who was taking a sip of her whiskey. "I'm not sure how you worked it out," Irene said before she looked between John and Sherlock, straightening up in her seat and missing the satisfied smirk on Lexi's face. "Where's my camera phone?" Irene asked expectantly.

"It's not here. We're not stupid," John told Irene as he put down the mug of strong coffee he had made himself. He still couldn't believe that Lexi was here and that she had been smoking or how she looked even.

"Then what have you done with it? If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you," Irene told them and Lexi shifted in her seat as she stood up and put her tumbler down on the coffee table as all eyes turned to her.

"They do know that he has it and they have been watching him, but while they've been doing that I've been watching them," Lexi said as she walked over to John's chair and leaned against it so that she was standing within a few feet from Irene who looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. John thought that she almost looked nervous, which John would be in her position. "And, as they've been watching him, they know that he took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago. Nothing happens that I don't know about these days," Lexi said and Sherlock turned his head to look at her, startled by that admission. She did not meet his gaze or even acknowledge his look as she looked down at Irene with a slight smile on her face.

"I need it," Irene said, ignoring Lexi as she looked back at Sherlock and John and Lexi nodded once before she walked over to the couch again and sat down, taking her glasses off in the process and holding them in one hand as she turned to look towards the windows.

"Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?" John asked her as he looked round to Sherlock, inspired. "Molly Hooper. She could collect it, take it to Bart's; then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back," John said, working out a plan he thought even Lexi might be proud of.

"Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions," Sherlock complimented him, smiling.

"Thank you," John said as he picked up his phone. "So, why don't ... Oh, for...," John said, trailing of as he watched Sherlock take the camera phone out of his jacket pocket and hold it up. Sherlock looked at the phone closely as Irene stood up.

"So what do you keep on here – in general, I mean?" Sherlock asked Irene curiously as Lexi turned away from the window to watch them again. She was here for one of two reasons. To see Sherlock and John so they wouldn't think she was dead and two because Mycroft wanted her to check in on his brother.

"Pictures, information, anything I might find useful," Irene told them as Lexi closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, having remembered what Irene thought was useful information to have on her. It was quite childish really.

"What, for blackmail?" John scoffed and Irene instantly corrected him.

"For protection. I make my way in the world; I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be," Irene told the boys, turning slightly John before she looked down at Sherlock, her arms crossed over her chest.

"So how do you acquire this information?" Sherlock asked Irene, missing when Lexi rolled her eyes behind him, but John caught it as he flicked his gaze over to her.

"I told you – I misbehave," Irene told Sherlock, smirking at him, but he was unfazed by this. In fact, most of concentration was currently on the girl behind him sitting on the couch who he nothing more than wanted to go over to her and sit down and force her to tell him what was wrong and why she was acting like this.

"But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?" Sherlock asked Irene who nodded slightly at him.

"Yes," She told him before sighing slightly. "…but I don't understand it."

"I assumed. Show me," Sherlock ordered her and Irene held out her hand for the phone. Sherlock held it up out of her reach. "The passcode," Sherlock told her and she continued to hold her hand out, and eventually Sherlock sat forward and handed her the phone. Activating it and holding it so he couldn't see the screen or the keypad, she typed in four characters. The phone beeped warningly.

"It's not working," Irene told him in confusion, flicking her gaze over to him.

"No, because it's a duplicate that I had made, into which you've just entered the numbers one oh five eight," Sherlock said, standing up and taking the phone from her. He walked over to his chair in which she was just sitting and retrieved the real camera phone from under the cushion. "I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway," Sherlock told her as he pulled up the "I AM - LOCKED" screen and typed "1058" into the phone. He looked at her smugly but then the phone beeped warningly and a message came up reading: "WRONG PASSCODE. 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING". He stared in disbelief before he looked over to Lexi who didn't seem surprised.

"You knew," He said and Lexi shrugged slightly as she bounced her foot slightly from where it was crossed at the knee.

"It's never that simple Sherlock," Lexi told him, shaking her head slightly and Sherlock felt his heart clench as she said his name for the first time in months.

"I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it's in my hand," Irene told him, confirming what Lexi had just told him.

"Oh, you're rather good," Sherlock said as he looked straight at Lexi, who finally met his eyes, telling her this, but Irene was the one who answered him.

"You're not so bad," Irene said, smiling at him and Lexi looked away from Sherlock, breaking their eye contact. Irene held her hand out again and took the phone from him. John frowned at the pair of them while they stared intensely at each other for a few long seconds.

"Hamish," John said abruptly and all three other occupants of the flat turned to look at him. "John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names," John told them and Sherlock frowned in confusion.

"There was a man – an MOD official. I knew what he liked," Irene said walking a short distance away from the boys so they couldn't see her screen or keypad, she typed in her real passcode and called up a photo. No one noticed when Lexi sat up straighter in her seat, both feet on the floor now as her eyes widened slightly. "One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn't know it, but I photographed it," Irene said as she handed the phone to Sherlock. "He was a bit tied up at the time. It's a bit small on that screen – can you read it?" Irene asked Sherlock as he sat down on the other side of the table to John and narrowed his eyes at the photograph as Lexi stood up abruptly, no one noticing as she stared open mouth at the trio near the dining table. The subject line of the email read:

**007 Confirmed allocation**

Underneath in smaller print was a string of numbers and letters:

**4C12C45F13E13G60A60B61F34G34J60D12H33K34K**

"Yes," Sherlock answered Irene as he read the code which was very elaborately done. It was elegant, perfectly created to make it look like a jumbled of letters and numbers to people like Irene who didn't know how to decode it.

"A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out," Irene said as Sherlock leaned forward, concentrating on the screen.

"Then you didn't go to the best cryptographer in the country," Sherlock remarked, flicking his gaze over his shoulder at Lexi once, the girl having her back turned and her phone out as she was typing furiously at the keypad. Odd, what was she doing while he was being brilliant?

"What can you do, Mr Holmes?" Irene asked Sherlock as she leaned over his shoulder. "Go on. Impress a girl," Irene said and Sherlock wanted to do just that. Lexi was always impressed with how he figured things out. He could impress her this time, figure out the code, and maybe get a small smile from her as a reward. Time seemed to slow down for him as Irene began to lean towards him. Oblivious to her approach, the numbers in the code raced through Sherlock's mind and began to form into shapes for him. Opposite him, John had taken a drink of tea and was lowering his mug in slow motion towards the table. By the time the mug reached the table and Irene had leaned in and kissed Sherlock's cheek, he had already solved it. His eyes drifted momentarily in Irene's direction as he realized what she had just done, thinking at first that it had been Lexi. Irene pulled back smiling, but Sherlock concentrated on the screen again.

"There's a margin for error but I'm pretty sure there's a Seven Forty-Seven leaving Heathrow tomorrow at six thirty in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it's going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but give me a moment; I've only been on the case for eight seconds," Sherlock said rapidly as he looked at John's blank face in front of him, then glanced round at Irene who hadn't even fully straightened up yet. His gaze flicked over to Lexi next as the girl turned around slowly, an unreadable expression on her face, but the muscle above her right eyebrow twitching as Sherlock saw the outward mask she had been wearing crack and the real Lexi shine through as she furrowed her brow. "Oh, come on. It's not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look...," Sherlock said as he showed the screen to John. "There's no letter 'I' because it can be mistaken for a '1'; no letters past 'K' – the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place – families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo is wide enough to need the letter 'K' or rows past fifty-five, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Then there's the style of the flight number – zero zero seven – that eliminates a few more; and assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the six thirty to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport," Sherlock explained rapidly as he stood up, and lowered the phone , looking down at Irene, who gazed up at him in admiration. He didn't want her admiration though, he wanted Lexi's. He flicked his gaze over to her and saw her eyes widened in what seemed like shock. Ah, so he had impressed her, good, Sherlock thought as he smiled proudly to himself. "Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John's expressed the same thought in every possible variant available to the English language," Sherlock told Irene as a way to deter her from trying to praise him. He didn't want to hear it from her.

"I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice," Irene told Sherlock intensely as Lexi took in a sharp intake of breath. Sherlock and Irene stared at each other for a long moment before Sherlock spoke again.

"John, please can you check those flight schedules; see if I'm right?" Sherlock asked with his eyes still locked on Irene's as he watched her cautiously.

"Uh-huh. I'm on it, yeah," John told him awkwardly, clearing his throat. He started to type on his laptop as Sherlock and Irene continued to stare at each other.

"I've never begged for mercy in my life," Sherlock told Irene, adding to himself that he would never beg from mercy, at least not from her. Lexi on the other hand….

"Twice," Irene reminded him emphatically.

"Uh, yeah, you're right. Uh, flight double oh seven," John told him, looking at his screen still.

"What did you say?" Sherlock asked John in surprise, looking round at him as Lexi closed her eyes in despair.

"You're right," John told him, thinking that the prat just wanted to hear him say that again.

"No, no, no, after that. What did you say after that?" Sherlock asked him and John frowned slightly in confusion.

"Double oh seven. Flight double oh seven," John told him, thinking it odd that Sherlock would centre in on that fact.

"Double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven...," Sherlock said quietly to himself as Lexi shook her head sadly. Pushing Irene out of the way, Sherlock began to pace, hardly noticing the hurt expression on Irene's face. "...something ... something connected to double oh seven ... What?" Sherlock asked himself as he continued to pace and mutter the numbers to himself, Irene put her other phone behind her back and began to type blind on it:

**_747 TOMORROW 6:30PM HEATHROW_**

Her text was missed by everyone in the room and it was sent to the phone of Jim Moriarty. Standing in Westminster very near the Houses of Parliament, he took his phone out and read the message. Back at 221B, Sherlock had walked to the fireplace and was standing in front of the mirror with his eyes closed.

"Double oh seven, double oh seven, what, what, something, what?" Sherlock asked himself quietly, his frustration mounting as his eyes snapped open as he began to remember and he turned and looked at the living room door, remembering Mycroft standing on the landing talking into his phone with Lexi standing just where she was now.

"Bond Air is go," Lexi said quietly and Sherlock walked towards her as he remembered Mycroft saying those words.

"Bond Air is go. ... Bond Air is go," That's what Mycroft had said and what Lexi had just said now. While the words continue to echo in Sherlock's mind as he just solved where he had heard it before, at Westminster Jim was typing a message onto his phone:

**_Jumbo Jet. Dear me Mr Holmes, dear me._**

Moriarty pressed Send and he imagined the message winging its way up into the air and watching it go, Jim raised his eyes towards Big Ben, the very image of the seat of the British government, and blew a long and loud raspberry at it.

At Mycroft's house, he picked up his phone from the dining table and looked at a newly arrived message which he thought might be from Lexi as she was supposed to be back soon as she said she would be back by five. His message read:

**_Jumbo Jet. Dear me Mr Holmes, dear me._**

Back at 221B, Lexi shook her head at Sherlock who had no clue at all what he had done now as she looked very upset before Lexi looked towards Irene and John once and left the room, walking down the hallway to her room and shutting the door loudly behind her. Once safely in her room and away from the others where she could panic and freak out properly, she dove for her laptop which she had left behind before she pulled out her mobile and quickly dialled Mycroft's number, the man picking up after the first ring.

"It's been breached," Lexi told him quickly in horror as her fingers typed quickly over her keyboard as she barely slowed down at all.

"It's already out there," Mycroft told her in horror and Lexi froze, choking slightly on her intake of air. Months, months of planning this and it just got out. Lexi realized what must have happened and she cursed herself for not watching her more closely. When they weren't looking Irene must have sent the information to someone. She was running out of time, not just because the flight would be soon, but because she had a deadline to meet, someone she owed, who she promised to get the information too.

"I'm trying to recover what I can, but it will get out faster than I can. Call in a Code Red. I'll see what I can do," Lexi told Mycroft quickly as her fingers flew over her keyboard faster than they ever had before as she hacked and tried to shut down any information leaks, the web already full of them.

"Who?" Mycroft asked Lexi and she sighed slightly.

"Who do you think?" She asked Mycroft, shaking her head, before she hung up her mobile and threw it across the room, letting it hit the wall and fall into her hamper as she worked to try and fix the mess that Sherlock had just created. That's what she did, she went behind him and cleaned up all the messes her made and then she let him do what he liked, like go after Irene, because she couldn't stop herself from trying to make him happy. Well fine, if Irene made him happy then she would leave. She would sacrifice her happiness so he would be happy because she didn't deserve happiness. Those days were over now. She had four hours until her flight anyway. Plenty of time to try and save the world before everything crumbled to dust, her along with it.

Time passed and Mycroft returned to the chair at the end of his dining table and sank down into it, running his hand over his face, still shocked by the turn of events and waiting for news from Lexi. More time passed and Mycroft had removed his jacket and had a glass of brandy in front of him. His hands were folded in front of his mouth and he was lost in wide-eyed and horrified thought at the fact that he still hadn't heard anything from Lexi. Much later, as night began to fall, Mycroft's face was furrowed with anguish and his eyes were still wide at the horror which only he and one Irish girl knew about. The glass beside him was empty now. Slowly he closed his eyes and sank his head into his hands in despair, after one text message had come in, informing him of their fate.

**I'm sorry. I wasn't quick enough. –L.M.**

**Sherlock's POV**

Night had fallen over the flat and Sherlock sat in his armchair gently plucking the strings of his violin. In his mind he could still hear Mycroft's phone call.

"Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot," Mycroft had said and Sherlock finally roused a little and looked up.

"Coventry," Sherlock said and he found Irene, still wearing his dressing gown and with her hair still down, curled up in John's chair watching him closely.

"I've never been. Is it nice?" Irene asked Sherlock as he stared back at her in confusion.

"Where's John and Lexi?" Sherlock asked her, realizing that some time had passed since he had last looked up and hoping that she hadn't left yet. He needed to talk with her. This needed to end. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to know if he lost her and if he had, what he might be able to do to convince her to come back. If…if she wanted more from him than he could do that. He could, for her, because living without her was like hell. Not having her here with him was breaking him beyond anything ever had before and it scared him how little he could function without her.

"He went out a couple of hours ago and the light is on in her room so I think she's in there. So, I guess she's not dead…," Irene said and Sherlock didn't hear the rest of what she said only to herself, "…though we can hope."

"I was just talking to him," Sherlock said, thankful that Lexi was still there. Once John got back to the flat and could watch Irene for him he could go and talk to her. He didn't trust Irene enough to leave her alone in the flat without supervision. She was like a child who always wanted to get what she wanted and misbehaved when she didn't. He didn't trust her for one moment.

"He said you do that. What's Coventry got to do with anything?" Irene asked Sherlock, smiling.

"It's a story, probably not true. In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they'd broken the German code but they didn't want the Germans to know that they'd broken the code, so they let it happen anyway," Sherlock explained to her thoughtfully.

"Have you ever had anyone?" Irene asked him suddenly and Sherlock frowned at her blankly.

"Sorry?" He asked her in confusion, but getting the feeling that this conversation was about to head in a direction he didn't want it to go.

"And when I say "had", I'm being indelicate," Irene told him and Sherlock still didn't get her meaning.

"I don't understand," Sherlock told her, eying her cautiously.

"Well, I'll be delicate then," Irene told him as she got up from the chair and walked over. She knelt in front of Sherlock, putting her left hand on top of his right hand and curling her fingers around it. "Let's have dinner," She told him and Sherlock was proud of himself for keeping his face void of every emotion he was feeling as he suddenly understood what she meant. No. NO! The only one he would ever conceive having…dinner with would only ever be Lexi. In his eyes, Lexi eclipsed and predominated the whole of her sex.

"Why?" Sherlock asked Irene, generally curious as to why she would ever get the thought that he wanted her in such a way as he had done nothing he could think of to encourage such notions.

"Might be hungry," Irene told him, smirking slightly.

"I'm not," Sherlock warned her, a warning which was lost on her as he came to a startling conclusion. It was all a game from the very beginning. Oh yes, she had been rather good and it would have worked if not for the simple fact that he could never look at someone in such a way with Lexi there. Even with her gone she was all he thought of. A dominatrix on a power play and she had tried it on him. In fact he believed they would call it seducing or sleeping with the enemy. She was trying to use him. Well then, make her think that she had finally won him over.

"Good," Irene answered him, seconds after he had come to his rapid discovery. Hesitantly, Sherlock sat forward a little and slowly turned his right hand over, curling his own fingers around her wrist. Every part of his brain was telling him that it was wrong, but he had to do this to make her think she had finally won.

"Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn't hungry?" Sherlock asked Irene and slowly Irene began to lean forward, her gaze fixed on his lips.

"Oh, Mr Holmes...," Irene said softly and Sherlock gently stroked his fingers across the underside of her wrist, taking her pulse when she was so otherwise engaged. "...if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?" Irene asked him and Sherlock sat back ever so slightly as she leaned in closer to his lips.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson suddenly called up the stairs and Sherlock felt rather relieved as he knew he could have never kissed Irene. He would not go that far to make his act believable. His first and only kisses would ever be with Lexi whether she still was his or not. Sherlock's eyes slid towards the door.

"Too late," Irene said ruefully, looking disappointed that they had been interrupted.

"That's not the end of the world; that's Mrs Hudson," Sherlock told her as Irene pulled her hand free and stood up, walking away from him as Mrs Hudson came in with none other than Plummer from the Palace.

"Sherlock, this man was at the door. Is the bell still not working?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock and she turns around to Plummer and pointed back at Sherlock. "He shot it," Mrs. Hudson told him, remembering that day. Lexi had been gone and the door bell had rung and Sherlock had gotten up and went downstairs and shot it, scarring the poor postman to death.

"Have you come to take me away again?" Sherlock asked Plummer tetchily.

"Yes, Mr Holmes," Plummer answered him.

"Well, I decline," Sherlock told him, deciding to be difficult.

"I don't think you do," Plummer told him, taking an envelope from his jacket and offering it to him. Sherlock snatched it from him and opened it. Inside was a Business Class boarding pass for Flyaway Airways in the name of Sherlock Holmes for flight number 007 to Baltimore, scheduled to leave at 18.30.

"And is Lexi to come too?" Sherlock asked Plummer, raising an eyebrow at him as he looked up from the ticket.

"Ms. MacKenna is currently engaged in more important affairs and being monitored," Plummer told him and Sherlock's eyebrow raised higher as he frowned slightly in confusion. It sounded like she was involved in something a lot larger than even Sherlock could imagine. Very shortly afterwards, Sherlock put his coat on and was getting into the back of a car outside the flat. As Plummer got into the passenger seat and the car drove away, Irene stood at the window of the flat and watched them go. Once they were out of sight, she turned around and went back to Sherlock's room, changing into the clothes she had arrived in before she slipped out of the flat, not before she "accidently" snapped Lexi's viola in half though. Some people had to know when they had been beaten.

**Sherlock's POV**

In the car, Sherlock got out the plane ticket again, then told Plummer what he had deduced. The frailty of genius was that it needed an audience and right now he had neither John nor Lexi to listen to how brilliant he was being, what was the point of having John if he wasn't there to listen to him?

"There's going to be a bomb on a passenger jet. The British and American governments know about it but rather than expose the source of that information they're going to let it happen. The plane will blow up. Coventry all over again. The wheel turns. Nothing is ever new," Sherlock said and neither Plummer nor the driver responded to him in any way. Sometime later the car arrived at Heathrow Airport and was driven past the hangars to a 747 Jumbo Jet parked on the tarmac. The car stopped near the plane and Sherlock got out and walked over to the step which lead up to the entry door. A familiar figure was standing at the bottom of the steps, Neilson. "Well, you're lookin' all better. How ya feelin'?" Sherlock asked him nonchalantly, in a deliberately fake American accent.

"Like putting a bullet in your brain ... sir," Neilson responded and Sherlock let out a quiet snigger and started to walk up the steps. "They'd pin a medal on me if I did...," Neilson continued and Sherlock stopped. "...sir," Neilson finished insincerely. "Tell Agent Lexington that we sincerely apologize to her for our part in the problems presented to her," Neilson said and Sherlock half-turned back towards him to ask him what he meant, noting the name Lexington which Lexi had used to refer to herself before as a code name. He decided that he couldn't be bothered with it right now and could ask Lexi what he had meant later and continued up the steps.

Inside, he pulled back the curtain obscuring the passenger seating and walked into the aisle. The lighting was very low and it was hard to see inside the cabin of the plane. There were people sitting in almost all the seats but none of them was moving or speaking or showing any signs of life at all. Frowning, Sherlock walked forward and looked more closely at the nearest passengers. An overhead light showed more clearly the faces of two men sitting beside each other and Sherlock now realized the truth: they were dead. Although they were not yet showing any signs of decomposition, their skin was very grey and they had clearly been dead for some time. He turned and looked to the passengers on the other side of the aisle, turning on another overhead light to get a better view. The man and woman sitting there were also long dead. As he straightened up, realising that everyone on board the plane must be in the same condition, his brother spoke from the other end of the section.

**Mycroft's POV**

"The Coventry conundrum," Mycroft said softly as he pushed back the curtain and stepped through into the cabin as his brother turned to him. "What do you think of my solution?" Mycroft asked him as Sherlock gazed around the cabin, still taking it all in. "The flight of the dead," Mycroft added keeping his voice steady and in control despite how he was feeling.

"The plane blows up mid-air. Mission accomplished for the terrorists. Hundreds of casualties, but nobody dies," Sherlock said and Mycroft took a deep breath as his eyes flicked around the cabin.

"Neat, don't you think?" Mycroft asked his brother and Sherlock smiled humourlessly. "You've been stumbling round the fringes of this one for ages – or were you too bored to notice the pattern?" Mycroft asked Sherlock who looked like he was finally piecing everything together. Good for him. It had taken him long enough. "We ran a similar project with the Germans a while back, though I believe one of our passengers didn't make the flight," Mycroft told his brother as Sherlock no doubt thought back to the body that was found in the boot of a car with his passport stamped from the Berlin airport. "But that's the deceased for you – late, in every sense of the word," Mycroft said, smirking slightly at his own joke before he looked at his brother more seriously. "It was that little slip up in our plan, however minor, that helped Alexandria work it out. Someone very influential recommended her to us and I called her in to work with us on the new project. For the last several months she has been helping us," Mycroft divulged to his brother whose eyes widened slightly in shock as he no doubt realized that he had missed all of the signs.

"How's the plane going to fly?" Sherlock asked him, surprising Mycroft that he hadn't asked more about Lexi before he answered himself immediately. "Of course: unmanned aircraft. Hardly new."

"It doesn't fly. It will never fly. This entire project is cancelled. The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb. Alexandria spent the last few hours trying to recover anything she could and save the project, but there wasn't enough time. We can't fool them now. We've lost everything. One fragment of one email, and months and years of planning finished. Never mind that it was Alexandria's code in the first place. She wanted to make it more difficult and I can see now that she was right," Mycroft told his brother, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on.

"Your MOD man," Sherlock mused, figuring it out.

"That's all it takes: one lonely naïve man desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special," Mycroft told him, no longer referring to his MOD man who would be dealt with in due time. Deportation seemed fitting.

"Hmm. You should screen your defence people more carefully," Sherlock said quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock; I'm talking about you," Mycroft shouted at his brother furiously and he slammed the tip of his umbrella on the floor. Sherlock frowned, genuinely seeming confused. "The damsel in distress," Mycroft said more softly and he smiled ironically. "In the end, are you really so obvious? Because this was textbook: the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption; then give him a puzzle ...," Mycroft said as his voice dropped to a whisper while he twirled the end of his umbrella in the air "... and watch him dance."

"Don't be absurd," Sherlock told him and Mycroft eyed his brother dangerously.

"Absurd? How quickly did you decipher that email for her? Was it the full minute, or were you really eager to impress?" Mycroft asked his brother in exasperation.

"I think it was less than five seconds," Irene said from behind Sherlock and he spun around to see her standing at the end of the cabin, dressed beautifully, fully made up, and with her hair perfectly coiffured. This was The Woman at her immaculate best.

"I drove you into her path," Mycroft said ruefully to Sherlock and he paused momentarily. "I'm sorry," He told his brother, wishing he was saying it to someone else as well. "I didn't know and I was foolish enough not to listen to the warnings I was given," Mycroft said regretfully. Sherlock was still looking at Irene as she walked towards him.

"Mr Holmes, I think we need to talk," Irene said as she looked past Sherlock and locked eyes with Mycroft who nodded slightly.

"So do I. There are a number of aspects I'm still not quite clear on," Sherlock said as Irene walked right past him, pushing him out of her way.

"Not you, Junior. You're done now," Irene told him as she continued down the aisle towards Mycroft. Sherlock turned and watched her go as she activated her phone and held it up to show Mycroft. "There's more ... loads more. On this phone I've got secrets, pictures and scandals that could topple your whole world. You have no idea how much havoc I can cause and exactly one way to stop me – unless you want to tell your masters that your biggest security leak is your own little brother," Irene said and Mycroft could no longer hold her gaze and turned his head away, lowering his eyes.

**Lexi's POV**

I heard Irene leave the flat and I closed my suitcase, picking up my ticket to redeem at the airport for the 9:30 flight to New York. Mycroft was the only one who knew where I was going or that I had even planed on leaving. Spending time away from the flat wasn't enough anymore. I opened my bedroom door and flicked off my light as I wheeled my suitcase out of my room, my trench coat folded over my arm as I couldn't wear my grey coat any more. It was attached with too many painful memories as was the scarf that Sherlock had given me which was why I had replaced both. When I walked out into the living room my eyes fell on my broken viola and I stood frozen staring at it and knowing full well who had done the damage. I looked away in anguish and took in a gulping breath as a few tears fell out of my eyes. Alistair had given me that viola as a gift before I left for London. It was literally the last thing I had left that he had given me. I didn't notice the sound of the door opening or someone coming upstairs as I stood there and John found me like that as I turned to the door and made to leave.

"Where are you going?" John immediately asked me as he eyes fell on me and then on my suitcase.

"John, don't…please," I asked the army doctor tearfully as I made for the door before he stopped me by blocking my exit.

"No, Lexi. Where are you going? For once will you bloody well just talk to me and tell me where the hell you are going?!" John asked me, raising his voice slightly.

"I'm going to visit a friend while I try and figure out what I'm going to do," I told John calmly, hoping that he would let it be at just that and let me go.

"What do you mean "going to do"?" John asked me and I sighed in frustration that he couldn't just leave it be.

"John, I can't stay here. I can't… I can't look at him every day know…," I started before John cut me off.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on, knowing what? Is this about everything that's been happening? About you sudden disappearing off to God knows where or not talking or eating, or not even looking at Sherlock anymore?" John asked me and with that the dam broke and everything I had been dying to say for months came flooding out.

"It has everything to do with that, it always has. John, I was a fool to have ever believed that he could feel the same way. I loved…love him, but Mycroft was right. Caring is not an advantage because every time I've let myself care I've gotten hurt. I thought that Sherlock felt the same way but I was naive and I fooled even myself into thinking that he did. I thought I had finally found someone I could trust other than you and Mycroft, someone who understood what it felt like to be called a freak, to be different than everyone else. But all of it was a pointless fantasy because people like Sherlock do not choose people like me. I am nothing special. I'm broken in so many ways and I've been that way for a very long time. I thought he was fixing me, but he didn't. So, I'm going to go spend some time with a friend while I figure out what I am going to do because I can't sit here and watch him and Irene together. It's too painful to look at him and act like I'm fine when I feel like I am dying inside. I love him enough that I know I have to let him go and stop clinging to this dream because he loves Irene and if she is what makes him happy than I can't and I won't step in their way," I told John as he watched me closely, the tears I had tried to hold back all night starting to fall as I finally said everything I had kept to myself for the last few months.

"Lexi…," John said, at a loss for words as he stared back at me, his eyes filled with concern and I shook my head at him as I wheeled my suitcase passed the stunned army doctor.

"John, you know when sometimes, you meet someone so beautiful – and then you actually talk to them, and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick; but then there's other people. And you meet them and you think, 'Not bad, they're okay,' and then when you get to know them… Their face just sort of becomes them, like their personality's written all over it, and they just – they turn into something so beautiful. Sherlock is the most beautiful man I've ever met. But in the end, sometimes you cared and you tried and that's enough. I miss someone who isn't mine to miss and love someone who was never mine to love. He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, but I care more about his happiness than mine so please John… just let me go," I told John, taking one last look at Baker Street before I walked down the stairs, my suitcase hitting every step behind me before I walked out of the flat and closed the door behind me, possibly for the last time. I got into the black car waiting for me out front and let Allen put my suitcase in the back before the car pulled off to take me to my last stop before the airport. I had one last thing I had to do before I left.

**Third Person POV**

Sometime later Mycroft had brought Irene and Sherlock to his house. He needed to keep this away from the office where information could be leaked and where there were eyes and ears everywhere. Mycroft sat at the dining table with Irene seated opposite him while Sherlock sat in the armchair near the fireplace a few yards away, half turned away from the pair of them. The fingers on his right hand were repeatedly clenching while he listened to the other two speak. Mycroft pointed down at the camera phone which was lying on the table in front of him. There was no hint of aggression or threat in his voice as he spoke to Irene as he had to tread very carefully right now.

"We have people who can get into this," Mycroft told her as he thought of Lexi and of Joanna who could probably crack the code in a short while.

"I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months," Irene told him and Sherlock closed his eyes briefly, grimacing slightly. "Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone," Irene told Sherlock sounding smug as she smirked across the room at him.

"There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive," Sherlock told his brother flatly and Mycroft lowered his head into his hand. "Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive," Sherlock informed his brother.

"Explosive," Irene said as she looked at Mycroft. "It's more me."

"Some data is always recoverable," Mycroft told Irene, lifting his head and looking at her again.

"Take that risk?" Irene asked him so obviously enjoying this.

"You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you," Mycroft said his thoughts turning to Joanna who was said to be a good negotiator. It was possible she could talk Irene into giving over the passcode.

"Sherlock?" Irene asked calmly, not even fazed by Mycroft's threat.

"There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can't know which one she's given you and there will be no point in a second attempt," Sherlock told his brother dully.

"He's good, isn't he? I should have him on a leash – in fact, I might," Irene said with a devilish smirk. She gazed at Sherlock intensely, but he remained turned away from her and therefore couldn't see her expression.

"We destroy this, then. No-one has the information," Mycroft conceded, knowing it would take too long for even Lexi to crack it and with two passcodes it was likely that she could figure out the wrong one instead of the one they needed.

"Fine. Good idea ... unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you're about to burn," Irene told Mycroft offhandedly with a slight shrug, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Are there?" Mycroft asked her calmly. Outwardly he was keeping his composer, inwardly, well, that was an entirely different matter.

"Telling you would be playing fair. I'm not playing anymore," Irene warned him dangerously. She reached into her handbag on the table in front of her and took out an envelope which she pushed across the table to him. "A list of my requests; and some ideas about my protection once they're granted," Irene continued as Mycroft took the sheet of paper from the envelope and started to unfold it. "I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation – but then I'd be lying," Irene said as Mycroft raised his eyebrows in amazement as he reads through the demands she had listed. "I imagine you'd like to sleep on it."

"Thank you, yes," Mycroft said, still reading her substantially long list.

"Too bad," Irene said and Mycroft looked up at her. In the armchair, Sherlock snorted in silent amusement. "Off you pop and talk to people," Irene told Mycroft who sunk back in his chair.

"You've been very ... thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you," Mycroft told Irene, knowing that Lexi had been one of the most thorough people working on the project, investing a lot of her time to help get the plane set up and creating the flight plans for the navigation.

"I can't take all the credit. Had a bit of help," Irene told him before she looked across to Sherlock. "Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love," Irene told Sherlock and the consulting detective raised his head at the name.

"Yes, he's been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention ...," Mycroft said his voice becoming more ominous as he continued. "...which I'm sure can be arranged," He finished as unseen by the others, Sherlock's gaze began to sharpen as Irene stood up and walked round the table to sit on its edge near Mycroft.

"I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. D'you know what he calls you?" Irene asked the Holmes' brothers. "The Ice Man ...," She told Mycroft softly before she looked across to Sherlock "... and the Virgin. Oh but Lexi, now he got her right in one. The Broken Child. And she is, isn't she?" Irene asked them and Sherlock's eyes started to flicker back and forth as he started to work it all out, the entire elaborate game that had led to this which had Lexi right in the centre of it both times. The pictures where only ever a way of insuring that he would come after her. Once she obtained a connection she would exploit it to have him decrypt the email for her just as he had done. "Didn't even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that's my kind of man," Irene said and Sherlock closed his eyes, sighing softly.

"And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees," Mycroft said as Sherlock's eyes snapped open again. Mycroft stood and bowed slightly to Irene. "Nicely played," He told Irene and he turned away, about to go and begin meeting her demands. Smiling in satisfaction, she stood up, confident that she had won.

"No," Someone said as the door opened and Irene and Mycroft both turned to the door as Lexi stepped inside the room, dressed in a jumper and jeans now, her hair in a messy bun and her face clean of makeup.

"Sorry?" Irene asked her as Sherlock turned his head towards Lexi and took in her appearance as she finally looked like herself again, except for the sad look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry was I not speaking loud enough for you? I said no. Very, very close to be sure, but no," Lexi told Irene, shaking her head as Sherlock stood and walked towards her. "See your problem Irene is that you got carried away. The game became too elaborate for even you to handle. You started to enjoy yourself too much," Lexi told Irene as Sherlock eyed her in confusion, Mycroft watching her closely.

"No such thing as too much," Irene told Lexi with a smirk and Lexi nodded at her and shrugged slightly as she walked closer to Irene. Sherlock was frozen in place, hearing her talk more than just a few words for the first time in a while.

"Enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine and craving the distraction of the game… I can sympathise with you entirely there, but sentiment? I have come to learn that sentiment is nothing but a chemical defect found in the losing side," Lexi said and Mycroft's eyebrow raised in shock as Sherlock frowned in confusion. Is that what she truly thought?

"Sentiment? What are you talking about?" Irene asked Lexi, shaking her head slightly.

"You," Lexi told Irene who smiled calmly at her.

"Oh dear God. Look at the poor girl. You don't actually think I was interested in him? Why? Because he's the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?" Irene asked her as Lexi took a step closer her so that she was face to face with Irene, both women the same height.

"No," Lexi said simply. "I know you are because of the way you look at him. It's the same look I give him and I see looking back in the mirror every time I think about him. And I can't fault you for that because he is…he's the great Sherlock Holmes. It's hard not to love him because he is impressive and so much more than that. I imagine that John Watson thinks that love is a mystery to me because I've never felt it before now but the chemistry is incredibly simple. It is also very destructive and you knew that," Lexi said, picking Irene's phone up off of the table before she turned and walked a few paces away from her. "So that's how I know. I've known all along," Lexi said before she looked across to Mycroft. "And in the end you were right, caring is not an advantage," Lexi continued as she looked away from Mycroft and back at Irene. She pulled up the security lock with its "I AM - LOCKED" screen. "This is your heart... and you guard it closely," Lexi said as she punched in the first of the four characters with her thumb as she watched Irene. "Problem is, you can't let your heart rule your head," Lexi said as Irene stared at her, trying to stay calm but the panic was beginning to show behind her eyes. "You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you've worked for…," Lexi said as she punched in the second character, her eyes still locked with Irene's. "... but you just couldn't resist it, could you?" Lexi asked her as a tear slipped down her cheek and her breathing became slightly heavier. "Because in the end, we both are, aren't we? And no matter how much we lie to ourselves or try to convince ourselves otherwise, we can't because we can only feel one thing. And our hearts will always be…," Lexi said, trailing off as she typed in the final character. Slowly she turned the phone towards Irene and showed her the screen, also showing Mycroft and Sherlock what the pass code was. Irene looked down at it, tears spilling from her eyes as she realized that everything was over when she read the sequence which said:

**I AM**

**SHER**

**LOCKED**

"Sherlocked," Lexi intoned and Irene gazed down at the screen in despair for a few seconds, then Lexi lifted the phone away and held it out towards a shell shocked Mycroft who just had his suspicions confirmed as the phone unlocked and presented its menu. Sherlock staring at Lexi, not knowing what he could possibly say. "Here Mycroft. I hope the contents of Ms. Adler's phone will make up for any inconvenience Sherlock may have caused you tonight and any inconvenience I might have caused you for not finding out who leaked the information sooner," Lexi said as Mycroft took the phone from her.

"I'm certain they will," Mycroft told her as Lexi turned and headed for the door before she stopped, her hand on the door knob.

"If you are feeling particularly kind, I would lock her up; otherwise just let her go. I doubt she will survive long without her protection though," Lexi said as Irene stared after her, her eyes wide with dread.

"Are you expecting me to beg?" Irene asked her and Lexi met her gaze and shook her head as she let go of the door knob and turned around to face Irene.

"No, I don't want you to beg. I'm not you Irene. I'm not a Dominatrix. I'm not that strong. But you know what? I don't want to be you. It took me a long time to finally realize that I was happy with just being me. I have my faults, but I'm proud of them. I don't want to be you. Being like you would mean changing everything that I am. If that is what you wanted to get out of this than congratulations… you won. You get to have what you wanted. You beat me, nicely done, but one thing you can never do is break me, because I'm strong enough for that," Lexi told Irene before she opened the door and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her with a slight click of finality.

"Please," Irene pleaded as she turned to Sherlock who looked away from the door and to the woman that was standing in front of him now. "She's right," Irene said as she started at him pleadingly. "I won't even last six months," Irene told him and Sherlock stared back at her coldly.

"Sorry about dinner," Sherlock told her and Irene's face fell in despair as Sherlock looked across to Mycroft. "Looks like I've won," Sherlock said before he turned and walked towards the door.

"You really think you've won?" Mycroft asked him and his dark tone of voice made Sherlock stop and turn back to his brother who was glaring at him furiously as Irene watched the two of them

"I didn't lose," Sherlock told his brother pointedly.

"Didn't you? Think really hard, it can't be too difficult for you to work out Sherlock," Mycroft told him, his voice getting louder as he stood up from his seat.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked his brother in confusion and Mycroft shook his head at Sherlock.

"You have just lost more than you will ever know. Are you really that ignorant that you couldn't see all of the signs?" Mycroft asked Sherlock who furrowed his eyebrows. "Have you really not seen how your little escapade with Ms. Adler has affected Alexandria, or did you think the smoking and drinking was just a new faze along with the rest of her highly concerning behaviours?" Mycroft asked his brother furiously.

"So, I never had feelings for Irene. It's been Lexi, it's always been Lexi," Sherlock told his brother, getting angry now that Mycroft would question him as if he would ever love Irene over Lexi.

"You might have neglected to tell Alexandria that," Mycroft told him and Sherlock frowned in confusion as he started putting all the pieces together. Lexi's behaviour started the week after they met Irene, every other thing that had happened had been something to do with Irene. At Christmas, before she left for four days, it was Irene's death and before that it was the text messages which darkened her mood. Then New Year's Eve after they found out that Irene was alive, Lexi started disappearing and not coming back to the flat and that was when the avoidance was worse than before. She…, Sherlock paled as he worked it out finally. She thought he loved Irene. She was so wrong, he loathed Irene, couldn't stand her. Sherlock made for the door to rush after her, to go back to the flat and tell her the truth to tell her that she had been wrong and that it was her, that he loved her. He had to say it, he couldn't lose her, not now, not after everything they had been through together, when he just managed to find happiness. He would not have her taken away from him because of the Woman. All Sherlock needed was his woman. "She's not there," Mycroft told him as his hand was on the door knob and Sherlock paused as he turned back to his brother,

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked his brother, his face pale.

"She's gone. She left Sherlock," Mycroft told his brother who turned back to him, looking physically ill by this news. "She's gone to America. She didn't tell me for how long," Mycroft told his brother and Sherlock looked at him and shook his head.

"I don't believe you," Sherlock told him in an anguished whisper before he turned on his heel and flung open the door, hurrying out of Mycroft's house. He hailed the first cab he saw as he ran down the street just as a light rain started to fall like tears around him. It was then that Sherlock discovered he was human after all because he found that he did indeed have a heart and that it was breaking.


	69. Regret and Redemption

**Hello sweeties! So here is the conclusion of Scandal in Belgravia! Thank you so much for all of the amazing reviews. I am so glad that all of you are liking this. This case was hard to write, but now we get the conclusion and it all turns out alright. And we officially meet Joanna. She's a character I actually came to love more than Lexi. I know, how you may ask!? Well, go check out her story A Different Sort of Goldfish! And now, watch Sherlock Run. Run you clever boy and remember me!**

**Songs that inspired the chapter:**

**Almost Lover**

_Your fingertips across my skin_

_The palm trees swaying in the wind_  
><em>Images<em>

_You sang me Spanish lullabies_  
><em>The sweetest sadness in your eyes<em>  
><em>Clever trick<em>

_I never want to see you unhappy_  
><em>I thought you'd want the same for me<em>

_Goodbye, my almost lover_  
><em>Goodbye, my hopeless dream<em>  
><em>I'm trying not to think about you<em>  
><em>Can't you just let me be?<em>  
><em>So long, my luckless romance<em>  
><em>My back is turned on you<em>  
><em>I should've known you'd bring me heartache<em>  
><em>Almost lovers always do<em>

_We walked along a crowded street_  
><em>You took my hand and danced with me<em>  
><em>Images<em>

_And when you left you kissed my lips_  
><em>You told me you'd never ever forget these images, no<em>

_I never want to see you unhappy_  
><em>I thought you'd want the same for me<em>

_Goodbye, my almost lover_  
><em>Goodbye, my hopeless dream<em>  
><em>I'm trying not to think about you<em>  
><em>Can't you just let me be?<em>  
><em>So long, my luckless romance<em>  
><em>My back is turned on you<em>  
><em>I should've known you'd bring me heartache<em>  
><em>Almost lovers always do<em>

_I cannot go to the ocean_  
><em>I cannot drive the streets at night<em>  
><em>I cannot wake up in the morning<em>  
><em>Without you on my mind<em>  
><em>So you're gone and I'm haunted<em>  
><em>And I bet you are just fine<em>  
><em>Did I make it that easy<em>  
><em>To walk right in and out of my life?<em>

_Goodbye, my almost lover_  
><em>Goodbye, my hopeless dream<em>  
><em>I'm trying not to think about you<em>  
><em>Can't you just let me be?<em>  
><em>So long, my luckless romance<em>  
><em>My back is turned on you<em>  
><em>I should've known you'd bring me heartache<em>  
><em>Almost lovers always do<em>

**Just Give Me A Reason**

_Right from the start_  
><em>You were a thief<em>  
><em>You stole my heart<em>  
><em>And I your willing victim<em>  
><em>I let you see the parts of me<em>  
><em>That weren't all that pretty<em>  
><em>And with every touch you fixed them<em>

_Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh, oh_  
><em>Things you never say to me, oh, oh<em>  
><em>Tell me that you've had enough<em>  
><em>Of our love, our love<em>

_Just give me a reason_  
><em>Just a little bit's enough<em>  
><em>Just a second we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>  
><em>It's in the stars<em>  
><em>It's been written in the scars on our hearts<em>  
><em>We're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>

_I'm sorry I don't understand_  
><em>Where all of this is coming from<em>  
><em>I thought that we were fine<em>  
><em>(Oh, we had everything)<em>  
><em>Your head is running wild again<em>  
><em>My dear we still have everythin'<em>  
><em>And it's all in your mind<em>  
><em>(Yeah, but this is happenin')<em>

_You've been havin' real bad dreams, oh, oh_  
><em>You used to lie so close to me, oh, oh<em>  
><em>There's nothing more than empty sheets<em>  
><em>Between our love, our love<em>  
><em>Oh, our love, our love<em>

_Just give me a reason_  
><em>Just a little bit's enough<em>  
><em>Just a second we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>  
><em>I never stopped<em>  
><em>You're still written in the scars on my heart<em>  
><em>You're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>

_Oh, tear ducts and rust_  
><em>I'll fix it for us<em>  
><em>We're collecting dust<em>  
><em>But our love's enough<em>  
><em>You're holding it in<em>  
><em>You're pouring a drink<em>  
><em>No nothing is as bad as it seems<em>  
><em>We'll come clean<em>

_Just give me a reason_  
><em>Just a little bit's enough<em>  
><em>Just a second we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>  
><em>It's in the stars<em>  
><em>It's been written in the scars on our hearts<em>  
><em>That we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>

_Just give me a reason_  
><em>Just a little bit's enough<em>  
><em>Just a second we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>  
><em>It's in the stars<em>  
><em>It's been written in the scars on our hearts<em>  
><em>That we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>

_Oh, we can learn to love again_  
><em>Oh, we can learn to love again<em>  
><em>Oh, oh, that we're not broken just bent<em>  
><em>And we can learn to love again<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Seven- Regret and Redemption <strong>

**Third Person POV**

When Sherlock returned to the flat after the longest cab ride of his life, he raced up the stairs past Mrs. Hudson who he didn't register was quietly crying. When he entered the flat, the first thing he noticed was John sitting in his chair drinking whiskey by the looks of it. The second thing he noticed was the broken viola on the coffee table. He stepped into the living room carefully and he looked around the flat to see if anything else was broken. It was unlike Lexi to break things, especially something she loved so much. If he recalled the viola was a gift from Alistair, one of the last things she had from him. She would never break something that was that precious to her. Sherlock felt his heart fall as he looked back towards the kitchen and the hallway and found Lexi's door open, with the Irish girl nowhere in sight. Without turning around to look at Sherlock, John acknowledged the fact that Sherlock was here.

"She's not here, Irene. She left a while ago," John told him and Sherlock shook his head, a low growl echoing in his chest. He wanted nothing to do with that woman. He wanted to know where _his _woman was.

"Where's Lexi?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor looked round at him at the almost dangerous tone of his voice. "Mycroft tried to lie to me, told me she was gone," Sherlock said as he walked into the kitchen and towards their bedrooms. Maybe she was in his room?

"She gone Sherlock. Nice of you to finally care," John said and Sherlock stopped and turned back at the angry sound of John's voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sherlock asked him as he stalked back to the living room where John was standing now his empty glass on the floor by his chair.

"I'm talking about that it's nice to see that you finally care about her. It isn't as if she's not been alright for a very long time. No, this is good, you're finally seeing it," John told him, his face screwing up in anger as he nodded, his voice raising as well.

"John?" Sherlock asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, not understanding the army doctor's anger in the slightest.

"What was it Sherlock, really? What was it between you two? Because the two of you seemed awfully close for just friends," John said, shouting louder now as Sherlock stared back at him in shock. What had he done now? Why was John angry at him? Lexi was gone…she was gone and he had to get her back but John was yelling at him. "Then what? Irene came into the picture?" John asked him and Sherlock growled at that name again as he felt a white fury in him. How could John ever, EVER think, that he loved Irene.

"I do not love Irene Adler!" Sherlock yelled at John who yelled just as loudly back at him.

"WELL YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME!" John yelled at him before breathing heavily as he stared his best mate down as he pointed at Sherlock. "Do you know why Lexi left?" John asked Sherlock, his voice slightly quieter. "She said that she couldn't be here and watch you with Irene," John told Sherlock who felt his throat constrict painfully. No, no…she couldn't think that he…no. "And you know what she told me, she would leave so you could be with Irene if that would make you happy. She kept saying she was a fool to think that you could have ever felt the same way about her. So tell me Sherlock, really try to tell me, how long did you make her think that you loved her? Was she just another one of your experiments? Because you had all of us believing it too," John told Sherlock who growled in fury at John.

"I LOVE HER!" Sherlock yelled at John as he stepped closer to the army doctor who took a step back, shock written on his face. "I have NEVER loved Irene Adler. It has and always will be Lexi. I don't know how people… how she… could have ever believed otherwise, but believe me when I say John that I never wanted this to happen," Sherlock told John as he pulled at his hair. "I've lost her John," Sherlock said, stumbling over his words as he struggled to say what he was feeling. He didn't do sentiment, but he did it for her. She made him feel, made him realize that he was human because he realized that he did have a heart. "I've lost her and I don't know how to get her back… and I can't lose her because I can't… John…I can't," Sherlock said, looking up at John pleadingly, trying to make him realize what he was trying to say.

"I know," John said finally as he took a step closer to him and put an hand on his best mates shoulder, for the first time seeing Sherlock have a human reaction to something. "I know, but if you love her than you just need to tell her. You have to tell her the truth, not just tell me, you have to tell her. If you really don't want to lose her than don't," John told Sherlock softly and the man nodded numbly as he gasped in a sharp breath. Sherlock turned on his heel and went to Lexi's bedroom, closing the door loudly behind him before he flopped down on the bed, fully clothed, and hugged Lexi's pillow to his chest. John went to bed an hour later when it didn't look like Sherlock would remerge again that night. As the first rays of dawn fell over the still awake consulting detective who was clutching Lexi's pillow to him like a lifeline, the scent of her hair still on the pillow and her scent engulfed around him, Lexi stared out of the plane window as they neared America and she brought her scarf to her nose which still smelt like Sherlock from the last time it had hung up next to his coat.

Time passed so slowly at Baker Street and John watched Sherlock slowly come undone. He found Sherlock in Lexi's room the next morning, staring blindly at the ceiling. He tried to call Lexi's phone, to try and talk to her and get her to come back, only to find that her phone was in her hamper. John heard him calling her phone repeatedly just so he could hear her voice on her voice mail message. After the first few hours Sherlock had changed into his sweat pants, shirt, and red dressing gown and had made his way to the couch where he plopped down and curled in on himself. That was where he stayed. He did say a word, he didn't eat, and he didn't move. Mrs. Hudson came up to the flat a few times to try and get him to say something, anything, but Sherlock stared blindly at the back of the couch. John had called Mycroft to see if he knew where Lexi was going but beyond New York, Mycroft knew nothing else which was a first. Lexi didn't have her phone on her so John had no way of reaching her to plead with her to come back. So, he sat in his chair and watched his flatmate fall apart as he waited for Lexi to come back as well.

All the way across the world, Joanna was watching Lexi fall apart. She had collected her friend from the airport and brought her back to her house, the Browning as she had named it, and Lexi had finally broken down. She changed into sweatpants and a button down shirt that Joanna was sure was this Sherlock's and she had proceeded to curl up on Joanna's couch and cry. She didn't move and she didn't speak and Joanna left her, unsure of how she could help her friend. She would have called Lexi's other flat mate John or even Sherlock so she could yell at him, but Lexi didn't have her phone on her. She could have figured it out on her own but she sat in her chair and she waited until Lexi was ready to talk. And Lexi, she laid awake on the couch and thought over every time she was with Sherlock, every laugh, every happy moment and she wondered when it had all started to go wrong, the exact moment. And neither of them knew that while they were miles, continents, and ocean apart, they were both thinking the same thing.

On the second day of Sherlock's, well John didn't know what to call it, but on the second day of his unmoving moping on the couch, John started to worry. Lestrade came to them with a case, a suspected serial killer, and Sherlock hadn't even said a word. Lestrade asked John what was wrong with him and John didn't know what he could tell him. Lexi was gone and it appeared that every level of functioning for Sherlock was gone without her too. Mycroft had come by and told Sherlock that he couldn't go on like this and Sherlock had only turned over and stared at his brother without really seeing. John was sure that at some point Sherlock fell asleep, but then he got up and picked up his violin and started playing the saddest song John had ever heard. It was the same tune he had played on New Year's Eve, the song he had composed, but now he played it with so much emotion that even John felt helpless.

Joanna knew that this wasn't healthy. Lexi hadn't moved or spoken in over a day. She was thin and sleep deprived and every time Joanna caught her sleeping for a few minutes, she would wake up from a nightmare. Joanna cancelled everything. She told the NYPD to shove it when they had come round to her house for help on a case. The entire world could piss off because no one hurt her friend like this. Lexi was hurting. When Joanna had finally gotten her to turn and look at her, she had looked so empty inside. Her eyes were unseeing and cold, no more of their happy spark of life in them. Lexi got very cold and ran a temperature and there was nothing physically wrong with her. So she waited and she watched and she worried as Lexi let her silent tears fall onto the shirt which was the last thing she had left of Sherlock right now.

On the third day, John forced Sherlock to get up. Sherlock was still unresponsive as John got him to take a shower and then eat something. He went through the motions, but it was like Sherlock was no longer there, just transport. The next thing John did was have a talk with Sherlock because he could not go on like this. He couldn't wait like this for Lexi to come back. He couldn't starve himself and not eat, not care about himself first.

"Sherlock, I know you miss her and I know it hurts, but you can't do this," John told Sherlock who was sitting up on the couch, dressed in one of his suits now and not moving as he stared at the floor.

"What should I do then John, pretend that I'm happy or that everything is alright because that is what you want me to do?" Sherlock snapped, speaking for the first time in three days, his voice slightly dangerous. "Should I do that then? Would that make you happy John if I acted like nothing was wrong, as if Lexi is still here?" Sherlock spat at him and John sighed heavily.

"No, I don't want you to pretend that you are fine, but lying on the couch and not moving or eating is not going to bring her back," John said and Sherlock's lifeless eyes met his for the first time. They were so childlike as they stared into John's, so full of sadness and anguish that John felt completely helpless as to know what he could do. "You need to get out of the flat and get your mind of her. She's going to need time Sherlock. She's… she's upset and killing yourself by not taking care of yourself is not going to change that," John told Sherlock firmly before he got up and forced Sherlock out of the flat, taking him to the one place where Sherlock might be able to forget Lexi, a crime scene.

He was wrong, the case didn't make Sherlock better it made him worse. He started talking again, but only to yell at everyone. As soon as they had gotten to the crime scene, a thunder cloud hung over Sherlock's head. After he got done insulting half of the Yard he started to look at the body. He spent ten minutes staring at the body blankly as John watched him in concern before Sherlock started yelling about people being idiots and not worth his time and he stormed out of the crime scene. It was then that John realized that he couldn't figure it out. He had nothing to go on. Without Lexi here, Sherlock couldn't make deductions. It was like there was no Sherlock Holmes without Lexi MacKenna. John brought him back to the flat and Sherlock's mood did not improve. Instead of moping on the couch now, Sherlock tore through the flat and snapped at everyone and anyone, yelling at Mrs. Hudson even when she had come up to bring him some tea, sending the old lady running downstairs to the safety of her flat. He also started smoking again, not just one or two fags here or there but entire packs at a time. John tried to get him to stop but Sherlock managed to sneak them past him. Lexi needed to come back soon because John wasn't sure if Sherlock or he could live like this anymore.

On the third day, Joanna had enough of Lexi wallowing in self-pity. She forced the girl up, got her showered, got her dressed, and made her eat something. She wouldn't let her have a cigarette because they were vile things but she let her have two patches to help with her nicotine addiction. Joanna wasn't going to let Lexi sit there feeling sorry for herself. This was life. Sometimes you cared about someone and you ended up getting hurt, but life had to go on. You couldn't let yourself get to the point where you threw your life away because of some asshole who couldn't see what mistake he was making. Joanna didn't know much about this Sherlock Holmes but from what she could find out, he was a lot like Lexi. And one thing that Lexi was and would always be was stubborn. She would act like she was fine until her dying day if it meant that she didn't have to face someone and actually say what she was thinking. Today was the day she needed to toughen up and put her big girl panties on though.

"Do you love him?" Joanna sked Lexi and the girl looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stared back at the brunet. Joanna stood at 5'1 and had long brownish black hair that fell to her elbows. Her eyes were a bright blue and her face very angular. Though she was short, she was dangerous and she had a bad temper. What's more, she didn't let anyone underestimate her because of her height. "Seriously properly love him and don't tell me this is some crush. He's given you a sign that he is interested in you too," Joanna told Lexi as she paced in front of her friend who was now looking slightly more put together in jeans, a jumper that was too big for her and was probably stolen since Lexi had a habit of stealing comfortable clothes, and her hair in a messy bun now that it didn't look like rats were nesting in it.

"Yes, I love him and I think kissing me might be considered a sign," Lexi told Joanna as she hugged her knees to her chest. Joanna took one look at her a pulled her off the couch despite Lexi's sounds of protests. Joanna grabbed her by both of her shoulders and made her look straight into her eyes.

"Then why are you letting some skank assed bitch waltz in and steal your man?" Joanna asked her and Lexi went to answer her to tell her that Irene was more than that, perfect and beautiful and everything she wasn't, but Joanna cut her off. "Your answer should be that you aren't and if that wasn't what your answer was going to be I'm going to have to smack you. You are beautiful, sexy, strong, and bloody brilliant as you freakish British people would say," Joanna started off, holding her hand up when Lexi tried to speak again. "Yeah I know, your Irish, you still live in England so I'm roping you in with them. Besides Alistair practically raised you and he was British so besides an Irish accent I don't think you get to claim you're Irish," Joanna told Lexi before she got back onto the right subject. "You are more than this skank could ever be. I've heard of this bitch, she's nasty and if you think she should be able to come in and take Sherlock from you than you are wrong. If you love him than don't just lay down and take it because that's the only way that she is ever going to win. Fight back! Go back to London and make him tell you what you mean to him and if he doesn't give you a proper answer than he can go fuck himself. Don't play her games and don't play his. This leading you around bullshit does not fly. If he can't be a man and tell you how he feels about you than you don't need him in your life," Joanna told Lexi and Lexi frowned for a second before looking up and nodding.

Joanna was right. She wasn't upset anymore, no know she was angry. She had laid down and taken it and let Irene walk all over her, but for what? So Sherlock could be happy? Didn't she deserve to be happy for once in her life? If he couldn't say how he felt about her than he wasn't worth it because she wasn't going to guess anymore. She was not going to wait around until he finally decided what she meant to him. She deserved an answer, a yes or no answer, do you love me or not. Because Joanna was right, if he could give her a proper answer he could piss off. She was beautiful and she was brilliant, and she was strong, stronger than Irene thought she was and stronger than even she thought she was. She had chased murderers and survived when she was kidnapped, she faced Moriarty and won, so why was she giving in to Irene? The worst Irene could do was use her words. Blackmail, that's all Irene was good for, but you know what, she was finally accepting of her past so there was nothing Irene could ever use against her anymore. Besides blackmail and taking her clothes off and using her body Irene had nothing. She was mildly clever but…she hadn't done any of the things Lexi had done, survived through what Lexi had and all of that only made her stronger and willing to fight more. And you don't just give up. You don't just let things happen. You make a stand! You say no! You have the guts to do what's right, even when everyone else just runs away. So no, she wasn't going to lay down and take it anymore. It was time to make a stand and say no.

"Get your coat. I have a consulting detective I need to see," Lexi said before she went upstairs to change and Joanna smirked to herself. That was her Lexi and the girl she remember from before and Sherlock Holmes had best be ready because he was in for a world of hurt if he wasn't really careful. One thing Joanna learnt about Lexi, never get her properly angry.

**Lexi's POV**

Joanna and I left the Browning and headed straight for the airport. Joanna told me that she needed a change of scenery lately and it was probably time to move again. She was getting bored with only helping the NYPD or the FBI or CIA when they came begging for her help. She wanted something bigger and so I told her to contact Mycroft Holmes, the British Government. Joanna sat next to me in our first class seats back to London. That was the good part about traveling with Joanna. She had connections and she loved using them which was why we didn't have to go through security. I changed back into an outfit that Joanna gave me, a red plaid skater dress and black heels. I let her fix my hair so that it was brushed out and full of curls and I made myself look like me again. This was me and this would always be me and Sherlock could take it or leave it because I was done with pleasing everyone else. The flight back to London was long but it gave me time to think about how I was going to question Sherlock and I wanted an actual answer. As soon as we got back on British soil I used Joanna's mobile to call the British Government who surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

"Who is this and who gave you this number?" Mycroft asked and I shook my head before answering him, my Irish accent thick.

"It's Lexi. Where is Sherlock?" I asked Mycroft knowing that he would know where he was first.

"Alexandria," Mycroft said calmly though I knew that he was surprised that I was calling him. "Where are you?" Mycroft asked me and I laughed at that as Joanna looked back at me and raised her eyebrow as she waited to get our luggage of the baggage claim.

"As if you aren't tracking this call and getting any CCTV footage you can on me right now," I told Mycroft and I heard him sigh heavily. "I'm currently in Heathrow Airport terminal six. I'm with Lady Liberty who will be coming to see you later and I suggest you listen to her and I want to know where Sherlock is," I told Mycroft as Joanna grabbed our bags and we headed out of the airport and got in the line for a cab.

"He is currently at a crime scene. I'm sending the directions to your phone now. Alexandria…," Mycroft said before I hung up on him and brought up the directions. Central London, not too far from the flat.

"Got where he is?" Joanna asked me as she had our cabbie put our luggage into the back of the cab before we slid into the back seat together.

"Yup, crime scene," I told Joanna before I leaned forward and gave the cabbie the address.

"I've seen that look before and it's never good for the person it's intended for," The cabbie remarked to me as I sat back and he pulled out into traffic. "Aren't you that detective, the one from that blog?" The cabbie asked me before he answered himself. "Yeah, Lexi MacKenna, you run over London solving crimes with that bloke Sherlock Holmes," The cabbie said and Joanna answered him for me.

"She is and that bloke Sherlock Holmes might not be running too far if he doesn't have the right answer for her," Joanna told him, narrowing her eyes and the cabbie nodded before grinning slightly.

"So he was right then, John Watson, he thought you two were together. Well good luck to him. He should have known better not to mess with someone who would punch a murderer," The cabbie laughed and I grinned and nodded in agreement. "For you ladies, no charge, I think it'll be worth it to see you take him down," The cabbie said before he started driving, getting us as quickly to our destination as possible.

**Third Person POV**

They were at another crime scene, the second which was worse than the first. The body of the latest victim was a mangled mess inside the house and Lestrade had no leads to go on. What was more Sherlock had stormed into their crime scene and started shouting at everyone. He already had to send several officers home for having nervous break downs. The only thing he could find out from John was that Lexi was gone which was the cause for his entire behaviour. She better come back soon because he was going to end up killing Sherlock if she didn't. Sherlock was currently yelling at one of the forensic officers and he was only interrupted when his phone started ringing. One block away where Lexi had the cabbie wait for her as he couldn't come closer to the crime scene, Lexi got out of her cab and called Sherlock using Joanna's phone. She stalked down the street in her trench coat, her green plaid scarf on, her boots hitting the pavement roughly.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock snapped as he answered the phone and Lexi narrowed her eyes before she took a deep breath and started talking.

"You know I was going to leave," Lexi started off angrily. "I was going to leave and let you have Irene if that was what you wanted, but I'm not going to lay down and let Irene walk all over me," Lexi said as she walked towards the yellow tape down the road. Back at the crime scene Lestrade and John watched as Sherlock's face paled and the consulting detective froze in place. It looked like someone had just shot him or that he was going into shock.

"Le…," Sherlock said before he was apparently cut off by whomever he was talking to. Sherlock turned around and started walking out of the crime scene as Lestrade, John, Anderson, and Donovan followed after him the later people joining them just to find out what was happening. Back down the road, Lexi was getting closer to the crime scene.

"I sat there for months and watched you fawn all over her. I let you lead me on because that was exactly what you did," Lexi shouted into the phone before Sherlock shouted back at her. Back at the crime scene, John, Lestrade and half of the Yard watched Sherlock as he started shouting into his mobile.

"What gives you the impression that I ever loved Irene? Why is it that everyone keeps telling me that I had to have loved her as if they can understand what I am feeling? I would have thought you of all people could have understood?!" Sherlock shouted and Donovan rolled her eyes as she gestured to Sherlock.

"The freaks finally lost it," Donovan said rather loudly as Sherlock stepped out of the house and stalked a few paces away from the front door as he stared down and shouted into his phone some more.

"I NEVER loved Irene! How many times must I say it for people to believe me? I NEVER loved her. The act of loving her is physically impossible for me. I have always only loved one person and that was and is you," Sherlock shouted and John, Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan stood still in shock at the human admission. No matter how many times John heard Sherlock say he loved Lexi, it still shocked him every time. Donovan and Anderson were suddenly wondering what someone did to the freak. Who could ever love him and who could he ever love? He was a bloody psychopath for crying out loud! Lestrade on the other had a creeping suspicion that he knew who Sherlock was talking to now. It was too easy to see it back at Christmas, even if they didn't see it themselves. People were after all spectacularly ignorant when it came to things about themselves. As brilliant as Sherlock was, he could also be rather daft about things.

Across the street Lexi stopped in confusion and shock as she heard Sherlock's admission. She started walking towards the crime scene again wondering if maybe she had gotten everything wrong. "But you, when you saw Irene at her house, you seemed…. And later at Christmas and when you found out Irene was dead," Lexi said and Sherlock quieted and only asked her one question.

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked her, and unknown to Lexi, Sherlock suddenly looked down the street as he walked further out towards the road. She had to be here somewhere, maybe back at the flat, he had to see her, talk to her in person.

"I'm here, not too far from you, but I want you to tell me. What do I mean to you? What have I ever meant to you?" Lexi asked him as he turned his head and saw Lexi walking towards him.

Their eyes met just as a double decker bus blocked his view of her, passing in front of her. Sherlock threw down his mobile and started walking before he broke into a run. The bus passed and John smiled as did Lestrade as they saw Lexi standing on the other side of it while Anderson and Donovan's mouths dropped in completely shock. They would have never thought that the two of them could have ever fallen in love, killed each other yes, but love? Sherlock ducked under the police tape and ruffled his hair before he pulled Lexi, who was just a few feet from him now, towards him and crashed his lips against hers.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock crashed his lips down onto mine and in surprise I dropped the phone as he pulled me closer to him, one hand wrapped around my waist and the other tangled in my hair. After my brief shock I kissed him back, moving my lips with his hungrily. The kiss was passionate and desperate and I moved my arms and flung them around Sherlock's neck, tangling my fingers into the unruly curls at the base of his neck. I sighed in relief and Sherlock used it to his advantage and his tongue tangled with mine. Time seemed to stand still and all I knew was Sherlock. His mouth tasted like tea and I was home. Right here in Sherlock's arms I was home and his kiss told me everything. I love you, I need you, please don't leave me again. Sherlock moaned slightly into my mouth and I responded in kind as he picked me up slightly so that I was at his height before we broke apart, breathing heavily and he set me down gently on my feet. He leaned down and we pressed our foreheads together, our eyes closed before we opened them at the same moment and his blue eyes met my hazel eyes. He kissed me again, this kiss shorter but just as tender and loving as the first.

"Lexi…," Sherlock said and I stopped him by kissing him and when we broke apart again I cupped his cheeks with both of my hands as his hands rested on my hips and I made him look at me.

"I know. We were both so stupid. I should have…," I said and Sherlock shut me up by kissing me and when we broke apart again Sherlock grabbed my hands and took them off of his face, holding them in his own.

"We were both wrong. Please don't leave me again," Sherlock pleaded with me and I reached up and brushed his curls out of his eyes as a smile creped onto my face.

"Never again," I promised him before I reached up on tip toes and pulled him by the lapels of his coat down for another long kiss. This one was just as passionate and all-consuming as the first and even better than our first kiss in my office. This was months of pain and sadness gone and all the love we felt in one kiss. This kiss was us saying that we would never leave each other again, never let anyone come between us again.

"I'm experiencing an increase in Oxytocin right now," Sherlock told Lexi breathlessly as we broke from our kiss. Sherlock smiled down at me as I smiled up at him fondly and laughed for the first time, finally feeling overwhelmingly happy.

"I love you too you idiot," I told him as I grabbed his hand and mine and pressed a kiss to his jawbone, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Your my idiot though," I told him and he squeezed my hand as I looked up at him to find him still grinning.

I lifted my head from his shoulder and we both turned and walked the last few steps together over to the yellow tape, Sherlock ducked back under it, our hands still tightly locked together and a grin we just couldn't fight off still stuck on our faces. He held it up for me and I joined him on the other side before we walked together towards where John and Lestrade were standing with the biggest grins on their faces. Lestrade wolf whistled at us as we walked closer and I shook my head at the D.I. noting John's look of relief under his look of happiness. I looked up at Sherlock who looked embarrassed and like he wanted to run, but I squeezed his hand and he gave me a side long glance before he nodded slightly. Anderson and Donovan on the other hand, well they looked ill. They're mouths were opening and closing like goldfish and I raised my eyebrow at them and smirked as Sherlock and I swept by them. John them me a look as we pushed past Lestrade and him to get into the house.

"Oh shut up," I told John with a laugh as Sherlock and I went on to do what we did best. Solve crimes, together. John shook his head and chuckled as he walked into join us and we walked into the room with the body in it. "So what have I missed? Tell me everything before we begin…," I asked Sherlock as I pulled out my glasses and put them on and we went back to being the Baker Street Irregulars, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys against the world.

**Three months later…**

Life at Baker Street had completely gone back to normal, well almost normal. Normal was now having Lexi and Sherlock officially sharing a room. She still kept all her stuff in her room so it wouldn't clutter their bedroom but her old room was also a bit of a study now. Sherlock insisted on making her a little office for when she needed to do work in quiet. The two of them, well it was slightly nauseating for John sometimes with how happy they were, though he couldn't fault them, in fact he was very happy for the two of them. Both of them were stubborn gits who could have avoided the entire mess if they had just sat and talked instead of dancing around each other, but that was them. That was Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna and it always would be. Even after everything that had happened, Sherlock still denied that it was him that had initiated that kiss. John was alright with telling him that he believed him, before sharing a knowing smile with Lexi who would just pat him on the arm. Sherlock, well he was Sherlock. He was still as snappish and as much as an arrogant tit as before Lexi was his girlfriend. The only thing that had changed was that he and Lexi cuddled on the couch, they bantered back and forth like and old married couple, though they had done that before they were officially dating, and Sherlock and Lexi kissed. Not often in public mind you, but around their friends, yes. If Lexi came to a brilliant deduction at a crime scene, Sherlock would kiss her before whisking her off around the city with him. It was official, Sherlock was dating Lexi. Unbeknownst to John, Sherlock had finally given Lexi her promise ring and unbeknownst to her he was trying to figure out when he could make it more than just a promise ring.

Another thing that changed was the arrival of the mysterious Joanie in their lives. Joanie as the boys discovered was actually named Joanna Reyer and she was an American, Canadian French as she proudly pointed out and Lexi's best friend. Joanna started to work with Mycroft, a fact that he was not happy about. As it turned out Sherlock was right in his assumptions about her. She was an intelligence operative only she didn't work for anyone but herself and she was considered the best in the world. As much as she pissed Mycroft off, which Sherlock was pleased about, Mycroft couldn't get rid of her. He had been ordered to keep her as happy as possible because she was willingly giving her help to the British Government over anyone else because she wanted to stay in London for Lexi. She made it a point of reminding Mycroft that she worked with him and never would work for him. John had to say that Lexi picked her friends well. Joanna was an amazing woman and the fact that she could probably kill him in a variety of different ways earned John's respect for her. Of course, learning that she had trained Lexi herself and that Lexi's perfect aim was because she could be considered a deadly assassin was only slightly unnerving. It reminded John to never get on her bad side, but Lexi was not like that and only used her skills to protect the ones she cared about.

Despite everything with Irene, Sherlock and Lexi were closer than ever because they realized that nothing should ever come between them and certainly never anyone else. As Lexi said, it was the three of them against the world and they certainly were doing better than ever. Clients poured into the flat and Sherlock and Lexi listened to all of them. Lestrade gave them cases as well. Anderson and Donovan still hadn't recovered from what they had witnessed and neither had most of the Yard. It was generally thought that Sherlock and Lexi would end up killing each other but Lestrade, as happy as he was for them, was terrified that together they would be worse than before. Mike Stamford got the satisfaction in knowing that he was the one who introduced them officially, until it came out that Sherlock and Lexi had met long before that meeting in the lab. That information was a surprise to everyone except Mrs. Hudson who said that people meet for a reason and that Sherlock and Lexi were always supposed to meet. And so, life at Baker Street was perfect for the Baker Street Irregulars, even as the case of one Irene Adler came to a close.

**John's POV**

It was pouring with rain. Outside Speedy's café, Mycroft was standing under the protection of his umbrella, smoking a cigarette. He had a clear plastic wallet tucked under one arm and his briefcase was at his feet. John hurried towards home, hunched over and soaking wet because he had gotten caught out in the rain. In all fairness, Lexi had told him to bring an umbrella, but he thought he would be fine without one. He saw Mycroft standing there and stopped in surprise, then walked over to him. Surely Mycroft would have gone up to the flat in weather like this. Sherlock and Lexi wouldn't have minded him smoking either. Both were cutting cold turkey. When Lexi came back from America she already had picked up the bad habit of smoking and Sherlock and her caved to their nicotine addictions. After one week of them both smoking John had put his foot down. Sure, they snuck the occasional cigarette past him, but Mrs. Hudson had been helping him find their stash. They were both using nicotine patches now and complained it wasn't nearly as helpful.

"You don't smoke," John said as he walked up to Mycroft, knowing full well how the man thought about Sherlock's smoking habit and Lexi's. He hadn't been happy that she had picked that up from Sherlock and neither was Joanna. If the two could agree on anything it was that Lexi did not need to go back to doing any kind of drugs.

"I also don't frequent cafés," Mycroft told him, dropping the cigarette on the ground and treading it out, apparently not bothered about incurring a set fine for littering as he was the bloody British Government after all and could get out of practically anything. He closed his umbrella, picked up his briefcase, and turned and walked into Speedy's, ducking under the awning. John followed him to both get out of the rain and find out what Mycroft seemed to want him for. Not long afterwards they were sitting opposite each other at one of the tables, John a bit drier now that he had taken his coat off and his hair had started to dry. He picked up his mug of tea which he had ordered in an attempt to ward off a cold and looked at the plastic wallet which Mycroft had put on the table in front of himself. There was a sticker on the wallet saying "RESTRICTED ACCESS – CONFIDENTIAL". The camera phone was inside the wallet on top of various documents.

"This the file on Irene Adler?" John asked Mycroft, knowing full well about it as Joanna had mentioned to him briefly when neither Sherlock nor Lexi were listening that she was putting everything she could find about the woman into her file. The consulting detectives were still touchy whenever anyone mentioned Irene. John took a sip of his tea while he waited for Mycroft to answer him.

"Closed forever," Mycroft told him and John lowered his mug in surprise and put it back on the table. "I am about to go and inform my brother and Alexandria – or, if you prefer, you are – that she somehow got herself into a witness protection scheme in America. New name, new identity. She will survive – and thrive – but they will never see her again," Mycroft told John and John scoffed at that.

"Why would they care?" John asked Mycroft quickly. "He despised her at the end and I'm pretty sure it's clear how Lexi felt about her. Won't even mention her by name – just "The Woman"," John told Mycroft, shaking his head slightly before he picked up his tea and took another sip.

"Is that loathing, or a salute? One of a kind; the one woman who matters," Mycroft asked John who shook his head immediately.

"He's not like that. The only woman that matters to him is Lexi and he says it enough times. Sherlock, I don't know how he feels, only Lexi ever does, but… he doesn't feel like that. I don't think and neither does she," John told Mycroft as he stared back at the man who sat forward slightly.

"My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. The same could be said for Alexandria though she can be infinitely more dangerous with some of the skills she possesses," Mycroft said sitting back as John and Mycroft shared a knowing look as they knew full well what skills Mycroft meant. "What might we deduce about their hearts?" Mycroft asked John who shook his head slightly.

"I don't know," John told him, shaking his head slightly.

"Neither do I," Mycroft told him with a slight inclination of his head in agreement. "...but initially they both wanted to be pirates," Mycroft told him, smiling briefly at John before his gaze became distant and reflective.

"They'll be okay with this witness protection, never seeing her again. They'll be fine, in fact I think Lexi will be more than fine knowing they'll never see her again," John told Mycroft as he imagined a younger Lexi and Sherlock playing pirates. Somehow he just couldn't picture it. Lexi yes, but Sherlock…no.

"I agree," Mycroft told him and he breathed in sharply. "That's why I decided to tell them that."

"Instead of what?" John asked Mycroft in confusion.

"She's dead. She was captured by a terrorist cell in Karachi two months ago and beheaded. As much as Alexandria despised her in the end she would have never wished for her to die. Her moral complex has always been rather high which is good for anyone who crosses her path," Mycroft told John who looked at him silently for several seconds. Mycroft was right about that, as much as Lexi despised Irene in the end she never would have wanted her to die. As for her moral complex, a lot of people were lucky that she had such a strong conscious. Lexi said once she could have been classified as a threat or an asset, John had to wonder if she would have been a consulting criminal if she hadn't decided to be a consulting detective. It was easy to see why Moriarty thought she would join him only he didn't know Lexi like they did. John quietly cleared his throat as he looked back at Mycroft.

"It's definitely her? She's done this before," John asked him carefully. He wouldn't be surprised if she had tried to fake her death again.

"I was thorough – this time. It would take Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna combined to fool me, and I don't think they were on hand, do you?" Mycroft asked John and they looked at each other for a moment. "So ...," Mycroft said and he pushed the wallet across the table towards John, then put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands in front of him and rested his chin on them "...what should we tell Sherlock and Alexandria?"

**Lexi's POV**

Up in 221B Sherlock and I were sitting at the kitchen table together. Sherlock was looking into his microscope as I mixed a few chemicals together carefully in the beaker beside him, my glasses on as I looked down. That was one of the new changes with us besides our open relationship. I needed my glasses all the time now, but as Sherlock joked, I was another year older. Sherlock had replaced my viola for me with one nicer than I had before as I late birthday gift. It was built with some of the pieces of my old viola so it was both a part of Alistair and a part of Sherlock. Sherlock liked the glasses though and told me that they made me look smart and sexy. Now that he called me his girlfriend, he liked to tell me things like that to make me blush. As often as he did it though, I could make him blush worse. I had officially opened my Christmas gift from him now so I wore his promise ring on my left ring finger as a constant reminder that we had gotten through everything together. Despite Irene, despite the odds, we had stayed strong and we remained stronger because of it. It showed how much we truly loved each other. We both heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Sherlock spoke before John even came into view as I put my beaker down and put a hand on Sherlock's back as I got up and moved around him.

"Clearly you've got news," Sherlock said as John stopped in the doorway with the wallet in his hand. Sherlock didn't lift his head as I set the kettle on and grabbed a mug down for Sherlock and I having deduced that John had just had tea. "If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener. Nobody noticed the earring except for Lexi," Sherlock said as I kissed his cheek as I passed by him to get the tea bags.

"Hi. Er, no, it's, um ...," John said as he took a couple of steps into the kitchen. "...it's about Irene Adler," John told us and I turned around as Sherlock looked up at John, his face unreadable to anyone except for me. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders before I rested my head on top of his. He still got rather upset whenever someone mentioned Irene's name because it reminded him of how I left. I held onto Sherlock, knowing that it was a way to calm him. Apparently me just being close to him calmed him down. And reminded him that I was still her and not going anywhere.

"Oh? Something happened? Has she come back?" Sherlock asked John casually as he tried to hide the fact that he didn't like talking about this.

"No, she's, er ... I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs. He had to take a call," John told us and I raised my eyebrow at John as Sherlock stood up moving my arms so that he could get up. He wrapped an arm around my waist and brought me with him as he walked around the table towards John.

"Is she back in London?" Sherlock asked John quickly as his hand tightened slightly on my hip as I leaned my head against his shoulder. He rubbed a few circles onto the bare skin of my hip, random swirling patterns that made me shiver slightly.

"No. She's, er ...," John said as he gazed at the table for a long moment, then dragged in a sharp breath and raised his eyes to Sherlock's as we stepped closer to him, Sherlock frowning. My eyebrow raised higher as well as I could see how nervous John was which told me he was lying. "She's in America," John told us and I narrowed my eyes slightly at him.

"America?" Sherlock asked him, sounding curious to anyone else except for me. He was testing John as he knew the army doctor was lying too.

"Mmm-hmm," John told us, nodding slightly. "Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently. Dunno how she swung it, but, er, well, you know," John told us as he flicked his gaze over to me.

"We know what?" Sherlock asked him, raising his eyebrow slightly as the kettle flicked off. I looked up at Sherlock as he gazed down at me and he let me go so that I could go and make us tea.

"Well, you won't be able to see her again," John told us and Sherlock screwed up his face in confusion as I turned to look at the army doctor over my shoulder.

"Why would we ever want to see her again?" Sherlock asked John as he shook his head, flicking his gaze over to me and getting that look on his face which made me smile. That look said I love you.

"Didn't say you did," John told Sherlock, smiling ruefully as Sherlock turned away and walked back around the table.

"Is that her file?" Sherlock asked John as he sat back down in front of his microscope and started fiddling with it.

"Yes. I was just gonna take it back to Mycroft," John said as I brought our tea over and put Sherlock's mug down near him where he would notice it and John offered the wallet to us. "Do you want to ...?" John asked us and Sherlock cut him off as I sat down on the stool next to him.

"No," Sherlock told him as he looked into his microscope again and I blew on my tea to cool it.

"'Hmm," John said before he looked at us for a long while. I could see that he was trying to make a decision. Eventually he stepped forward again. "Listen, actually ...," John said before Sherlock cut him off again.

"Oh, but we will have the camera phone, though," Sherlock told him and he held out his hand towards John, not lifting his gaze from his work.

"There's nothing on it any more. It's been stripped," John told him and I set my tea down as I picked up a new beaker and started mixing new chemicals together in it.

"I know, but we...," Sherlock said and he paused for a long moment before continuing. "...we'll still have it," Sherlock finished and I could tell that the pauses was because he had just seen what he had been looking for on the slide he had been working on for the last ten minutes. He was about ready to have me see if I could find what we had been looking for before John came upstairs.

"I've gotta give this back to Mycroft. You can't keep it," John told us and Sherlock kept his hand extended and his eyes fixed on the microscope. "Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft. It's the government's now. I couldn't even give...," John said before Sherlock cut him off.

"Please," Sherlock said and he extended his hand a little further. John looked at him, clearly wondering what to do, then finally he reached into the wallet, took out the phone and laid it gently into Sherlock's hand. Sherlock closed his fingers around it, drew his hand back, and put the phone into his trouser pocket before returning his hand to the microscope. "Thank you."

"Well, I'd better take this back," John told us, flicking his gaze over to me as I looked up at him, the chemical mixture sizzling in the beaker as John raised the wallet.

"Yes," Sherlock told him and John turned and walked out onto the landing, then paused as if he was wondering whether to ask us something. After several seconds he turned round and came back into the kitchen. Sherlock still didn't lift his eyes from his microscope, but I looked up at him as I put my sizzling acid mixture down on the table and picked up my mug of tea, sipping at it.

"Did she ever text you again, after ... all that?" John asked Sherlock carefully as he flicked his gaze over in my direction and I moved my head in an unaffected gesture. Sherlock and I shared everything with each other now and there was nothing that went on with him that I didn't know about and vice versa. As I said before, nothing happened that I didn't know about these days.

"Once, a few months ago," Sherlock told John and I looked sidelong at Sherlock, hiding my slight knowing smirk.

"What did she say?" John asked curiously as he flicked his gaze over to me again. I shrugged at him and put my mug down on the table again.

"Goodbye, Mr Holmes," Sherlock told John as I put a hand on his knee under the table and squeezed it slightly, one of his hands falling from his microscope as he linked his fingers together with mine. John looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment.

"Huh," John said softly and he paced around in front of the kitchen door for a few seconds before he eventually turned and headed off down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight Sherlock raised his head and gazed across the room for a moment before he looked back at me. He reached down to his own phone which was on the table in front of us and picked it up, calling up his saved messages. The both of us stood up, Sherlock keeping my hand in his, and we walked into the living room as he scrolled through the messages sent by "The Woman", all of which he had kept. He had shown me every one of them. They went on for a long time:

**_I'm not hungry, let's have dinner._**

**_Bored in a hotel. Join me. Let's have dinner._**

**_John's blog is HILARIOUS. I think he likes you more than I do. Let's have dinner._**

**_I can see Tower Bridge and the moon from my room. Work out where I am and join me._**

**_I saw you in the street today. You didn't see me._**

**_You do know that hat actually suits you, don't you?_**

**_Oh for God's sake. Let's have dinner._**

**_I like your funny hat._**

**_I'm in Egypt talking to an idiot. Get on a plane, let's have dinner._**

**_You looked sexy on Crimewatch._**

**_Even you have got to eat. Let's have dinner._**

**_BBC1 right now. You'll laugh._**

**_I'm thinking of sending you a Christmas present._**

**_Mantelpiece._**

**_I'm not dead. Let's have dinner._**

Then came the one reply he sent to her which he told me was because he pitied her for not having anyone to spend the night with, no family or friends like he had:

**_Happy New Year_**

And at the bottom of the list was her last message to him:

**_Goodbye Mr Holmes_**

Reaching the living room window, he looked down at the final message for a long time before lifting his eyes and gazing out at the pouring rain as I looked out with him, remembering when that message had been sent.

**Flashback**

**Two months earlier, Karachi. **

It was night time and there was a background noise of male voices shouting in a foreign language. Irene was kneeling on the ground in front of a military vehicle. She was dressed in black robes, her hair covered by a black headscarf, and she was typing one-handed onto her phone. She had at least gotten that request granted. One text message to anyone of her choosing, her last words. Beside her, someone else was kneeling, a girl by the build of her, wearing black robes and her hair and face were covered by a black scarf. The only thing visible were her eyes which were closed as if she was praying or just accepting her fate. Irene didn't care which, they were both about to die anyway and it didn't matter. Standing to Irene's right was a man holding a rifle with one hand while he repeatedly gestured for her phone with the other. She ignored him, refusing to hand it over until she had finished her message, which read:

**_Goodbye Mr Holmes_**

She pressed Send and then gave her phone to the man. To her left, a second man walked over and raised a machete above the other girl's head, bringing it slowly down towards the back of her neck while he checked that his aim would be correct. Irene stared ahead of herself, fighting her tears, but grateful that she would not be the first to die. She slowly closed her eyes, not noticing when the girl beside her took off her headscarf, exposing her head as she stared forward. Her copper hair fell free and cascaded down around her as her hazel eyes took on a dangerous glint. A couple of seconds later, an orgasmic female sigh filled the air. Irene's eyes snapped open and filled with hope as she turned her head to look at her executioner. The first thing she noticed was the girl right beside her who turned to look at her was unmistakeably Alexandria MacKenna. She looked up next at their executioner. His face was completely shrouded apart from his eyes, but a very recognisable blue-grey gaze meet her own.

"When I say run, run!" Sherlock told her quietly and Irene turned her head to the front again.

Sherlock pulled the machete back as if he was about to strike the death blow to Alexandria, then he spun and begun to strike out at the nearby militia. Irene stared ahead of herself, her eyes wide with disbelief that she was going to live. Slowly she began to smile as Lexi shot to her feet next to her throwing her robes off of herself to reveal that she was wearing a tight, black cat suit underneath. She pulled a sword off her back which she had kept hidden and with a yell she rushed forward and started moving in a blur beside Sherlock whose head scarf had fallen off. Irene was more disbelieving of the fact that she was there rescuing her than over the fact that Sherlock was. Lexi shouted something in Arabic moving faster than Irene could process. It was then that Irene realized that she had underestimated her. Sherlock and Lexi fought back to back, Lexi's blade moving quickly before she pushed Sherlock and ducked under the blade of another, saving both of their lives. She shot back up and ran the man through, kicking him back off her sword as Sherlock caught back up with her. Once everyone was dead or knocked out the two stopped fighting and Lexi threw down her sword as did Sherlock.

"Well, that was tedious," Sherlock remarked and Lexi laughed as she flung her arms around Sherlock and hugged him, the consulting detective hugging her tightly back. Irene stood up slowly, realizing that nothing had changed between them. In fact, if anything they were closer than before.

"I was wrong about you," Irene said as she took a few steps towards the pair and they both turned to her and Irene flinched slightly under Sherlock's hard gaze and Lexi's calm one. She didn't know what was worse, Sherlock looking at her like that or Lexi not looking at her in anger.

"Yes, you were," Sherlock said coldly and Irene nodded.

"So what happens now?" Irene asked the two of them and Lexi stepped away from Sherlock and bent down, picking up her robes and wrapping them around herself again.

"That depends entirely upon you," Lexi told Irene who furrowed her brow in confusion. "Joanna had an entirely new identity made for you, new name, new everything. You can go anywhere you want except for London. If you keep your head down and don't misbehave too much, you'll be fine," Lexi told her as she picked up her sword and slid it back into its hidden scabbard on her back after wiping it on the ground.

"What's life without misbehaving?" Irene asked Lexi with a smirk and Lexi looked back at her and shrugged.

"I wouldn't know, but if you want to live, you'll have to change your ways," Lexi told her and Irene nodded in earnest, very much wanting to live. "Well then," Lexi said as Sherlock threw her a yellow envelope that had been hidden under his robes. "That's everything you need. You'll go to Ireland first and follow the directions I've enclosed inside. You'll talk with a man named Thomas, he'll help you decide your next move and help you make it. Beyond that everything is up to you. If you get in trouble there's a number in there, but you only call it in an emergency and it only works once," Lexi told her before Sherlock took her hand and the two consulting detectives turned and started to walk away together as Irene clutched the yellow envelope that would give her her new life.

"Thank you," Irene called after them and Lexi turned back to her and nodded before they continued on while Irene processed the fact that the girl she had tried to break was the one that saved her life. She had been wrong about her, she was stronger than she seemed.

**End of Flashback**

In London in the present, Sherlock smiled at the memory, then chuckled to himself as he took Irene's camera phone from his pocket. He let go of my hand and tossed it into the air, catching it again before he looked at it for a couple of seconds.

"The Woman," Sherlock said as he looked down at me and I looked up at him fondly. "But you are my woman," Sherlock said and I giggled and lifted up onto my tiptoes to press a kiss to his jawbone. Sherlock turned and bent down so that his lips met mine instead and he pulled me in for a long kiss before we broke apart and he took my hand, leading me back to the kitchen.

"Remind me to teach John how to lie better," I told Sherlock as he took my beaker of acid and place it in the middle of the kitchen table. "Might come in handy at some point and he is terrible at it, "I said as Sherlock held out Irene's phone to me.

"Will you do the honours?" Sherlock asked me and I shook my head at him with a smile on my face before I took the phone from him and dropped it into the beaker of acid which started its work melting the phone. Sherlock took his own phone out and deleted all of the messages Irene had ever sent him. "Well, that's over with. Case closed," Sherlock said as he sat back down at his microscope.

"Mmm, now on to the next one right?" I asked Sherlock as I kissed his cheek before I went to walk away. He pulled me back to him and held me close to him as he rested his head against my chest. I smiled down at him fondly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his head, straightening up and carding my fingers through his hair.

"Always," Sherlock told me as he stood up and looked down at me, a promise in his eyes.

"Together or not at all," I told him and he nodded before leaning down and kissing me. We broke apart and I grinned before I started to put dinner together for the three of us. John returned up to the flat and the evening finished with Sherlock and me sitting together in his chair, Sherlock playing with my hair lazily as I closed my eyes and snuggled up against his chest. John sat in his chair across from us, watching us together as Sherlock closed his eyes and rested his head on top of mine, humming lowly to me. And that was a snapshot of our lives, a perfect little piece of forever.


	70. The Hound of Baskerville

**Hello Sweeties! Welcome to the happy Hound of the Baskerville. We are past Irene and all the horrors of her case. We've made it through that case so now onto the fluff! Today I finished writing all of the Sherlock cases. I'm sad but now I am working on Mycroft and Joanna's story and my prompts for Windows into Baker Street and my other one shot series. I might be on hiatus until season four but be prepared for more Sherlock and Lexi. I have two KidLock AUs planned A UniLock Au planned a Torchwood/Sherlock crossover planed and a Cabin Pressure/Sherlock crossover planned so they should be coming up soon. **

**I am so glad you are all liking Joanna so far!Oh gosh I love her, especially the bit I wrote for her today in TRS for the last chapter. Honey don't get on her bad side. So, due to the fact that I just finished everything, expect more chapters. I'm not going crazy because I still have to write Joanna and Mycroft's story as it corresponds to TRS and I still have school but you'll notice that you get maybe 4 chapters in stead of 3 a week or even more than that. Just expect more frequent updates. So ALLONS-Y and expect another chapter tomorrow!**

**For those who are interested this chapter is 14,000 words!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Eight- The Hound of Baskerville<strong>

**Third Person POV**

John had been enjoying a quiet day in the flat so far. Lexi and Sherlock had taken off that morning to go and wrap up one of their current cases and they had blissfully left him at the flat to sleep. Now that they were dating, Lexi had a way of wrangling Sherlock back in when he started to get out of control. Of course it was very funny to see the great consulting detective change his mind in an instant with just the raise of an eyebrow. They were, quite officially, dating too. There was no question about it now and most people shared a common thought, finally. It had been several months since the end of the case of one Irene Adler and it was still odd sometimes to see Sherlock and Lexi cuddled up with each other or sharing kisses. They were very affectionate with each other and didn't care who saw it. John was just about to start enjoying a mug of tea as he eased into his chair and got comfortable when he heard the front door open and two sets of footsteps start up the stairs, signalling the return of his flatmates. It hadn't taken them long to solve the case then, but when did it ever? The living room door suddenly burst open and Sherlock charged in, stopping just inside the room and slamming the end of a long pole down onto the ground. John looked round and his eyes widened at the sight of one of his flatmates. Sherlock was wearing black trousers and a white shirt and his arms, chest and face were covered with blood, far too much blood for it to be his own, and he was holding a harpoon. He looked round to John, breathing heavily.

"Well, that was tedious," Sherlock said as Lexi appeared behind him in a similar condition. She was wearing jeans and a yellow, sleeveless button down, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Her pants, shirt, arms, and face were covered with just as much blood as Sherlock's, but she seemed not to mind it. She shook her head at Sherlock as she darted into the room from behind him and headed into the kitchen.

"You two went on the Tube like that?!" John asked his flatmates in disbelief as Lexi returned with a tea towel which she was using to wipe her face a little. She wiped a small patch on Sherlock's cheek and kissed him.

"None of the cabs would take us," Sherlock told him in irritation and Lexi giggled as the consulting detective who looked down at her for a minute before he walked out of the room.

"They thought we might be murderers. On reflection the comparison is more apparent," Lexi told John with a shrug as she wrinkled her nose at the now ruined wash cloth. "That was messier than we thought it was going to be," Lexi said and she shook her hair which John could now see had bits of dried blood in it as well. "Ah well, you live and learn," Lexi told John who was still staring at her in disbelief. "Don't take too long," Lexi shouted down the hall to Sherlock who had just shut the bathroom door. There was a muffled yell of response before Lexi took off towards her bedroom, to probably grab some clean clothes.

Later the two of them came back into the living room once they were blood free. Sherlock had changed into a clean shirt and trousers with one of his blue dressing gowns over the top. It was not the same blue dressing gown that Irene had worn as that one had been ceremoniously set on fire, a fact that John had not been happy about when he returned to the flat to find Lexi and Sherlock setting it ablaze with a Bunsen burner with looks of glee on each of their faces as they watched the material burn. Lexi was wearing a pair of sweatpants, having to be her own as she was still gaining back some weight, a fact that neither Sherlock or John cared to talk about as it only brought up more about what Lexi went through with Irene, and one of Sherlock's bed shirts, his red dressing gown wrapped around her as her hair hung damply down her back. Sherlock was still carrying the harpoon and was pacing rapidly between the door and the window, looking round repeatedly at John who was sitting in his chair and flicking through the newspapers. Lexi was sitting quite calmly on one of the dining chairs and was watching Sherlock as he paced back and forth with a fond smile on her face. She never could get tired of just watching him.

"Nothing?" Sherlock asked John impatiently as Lexi pulled out her mobile and did a quick search to see if either of them had gotten anything new on their websites and finding that they hadn't.

"Military coup in Uganda," John told the two detectives as Lexi put her mobile down on the table.

"Hmm," Sherlock hummed and John chuckled in amusement when he saw something in one of the papers.

"Another photo of you with the, er ...," John said and he pointed to a photograph of Sherlock wearing the deerstalker hat. Sherlock made a disgusted noise while Lexi giggled slightly. "One of Lexi as well in her…," John said as he pointed to a second photograph of Lexi in her fedora which looked photo shopped so that it only contained her. Most of the pictures of Lexi and Sherlock in their hats had the two of them together. Lexi was getting her picture in more and more places these days as all the male readers of John's blog were quite taken with her and the press were only helping the matter by using her picture a lot. The female journalists loved that there was a woman on the crime fighting team and the press had a field day with using Lexi's name for them, the Baker Street Irregulars. John moved on to another newspaper as the search for a case continued. "Oh, um, Cabinet reshuffle," John said and Lexi hummed as she looked over at the army doctor.

"Joanna was telling me about that," Lexi remarked before she turned back to Sherlock who took that moment to be overly dramatic.

"Nothing of importance?" Sherlock asked furiously and he slammed the end of the harpoon onto the ground and roared with rage. "Oh, God!" He exclaimed as Lexi shook her head at him. Sherlock looked round at John intensely. "John, I need some. Get me some," Sherlock demanded and Lexi groaned as she got up and walked over to Sherlock, burying her face in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Only she would get near him when he was in one of his moods or looked like a bloody psychopath while holding a harpoon.

"Now you're making me want one," Lexi grumbled as she pulled back slightly so she could tilt her head up and look at Sherlock.

"No," John told the two detectives calmly, having already been fighting this battle with them lately.

"Get us some," Sherlock demanded again intensely, adding Lexi into his demand.

"No," John told him more loudly as he pointed sternly at him. "Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what and that goes for the both of you, doubly for Lexi," John said and Lexi groaned again as she pulled away from Sherlock who leaned the harpoon against the table in irritation. "Anyway, you've paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius'll sell you two any," John reminded the two of them as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Lexi's front, his chest against her back as he rested his head atop hers.

"Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?" Sherlock asked John in irritation and John looked round at him and cleared his throat pointedly.

"Mine," Lexi told him as she turned around in his arms and pressed a kiss to his jawbone as he looked down at her.

"Then it was a brilliant idea," Sherlock said quickly and John shook his head at how quickly Sherlock changed his tune when it came to something about Lexi. The consulting detective looked towards the door over the top of Lexi's head.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He shouted before he let go of Lexi and started hurling paperwork off the table, desperately searching for what he needed as Lexi stood back so she wouldn't get hit in the head by the mess.

"Look, Sherlock, you're doing really well. Don't give up now," John told Sherlock as he continued his search frantically.

"He's right love," Lexi told Sherlock as she ducked as papers went flying over her head before she straightened up with an amused look on her face.

"Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me," Sherlock told John as he moved over to looking around the printer. John remained silent and Sherlock straightened up and then turned his most appealing puppy-dog eyes on him, hesitating before he spoke and almost forming the word a couple of times before actually speaking it. "Please," He asked John pleadingly.

"Can't help, sorry," John told him as he shook his head slightly and Lexi sat down on top of the coffee table, disregarding proper use of the furniture as always.

"I'll let you know next week's lottery numbers," Sherlock told John who chuckled as Lexi giggled from behind the detective. "Oh, it was worth a try," Sherlock told him in exasperation. He looked around the room, then Lexi saw him get an idea into his head before he hurled himself to the floor in front of the fireplace. Unearthing a slipper from the pile of papers in front of the unlit fire, he held it up and scrabbled about inside as Mrs. Hudson arrived at the door and walked into the living room.

"Ooh-ooh!" Mrs. Hudson said, flinching as Sherlock started throwing stuff and Lexi waved to her as she leaned back on her arms watching Sherlock with an amused look on her face. John knew that she only let him go so far these days before she stepped in.

"Our secret supply. What have you done with our secret supply?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson in a sing-song voice as he rummaged about in the fireplace. Lexi shook her head at him as she sighed before she got up.

"Eh?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock in confusion as Lexi ducked under the flying projectiles as she moved closer to him.

"Cigarettes! What have you done with them? Where are they?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson quickly as Lexi looked around the flat, John not liking her look as she looked over the mantelpiece and narrowed her eyes slightly before she smirked.

"You know you never let me touch your things!" Mrs. Hudson told Sherlock as she looked around at the mess. "Ooh, chance would be a fine thing," Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock stood up and faced her.

"I thought you weren't our housekeeper," Sherlock said, frowning slightly in confusion.

"I'm not," Mrs. Hudson told him as Lexi moved over to her side.

"In my defence the room was reasonably clean until he started flinging stuff around," Lexi said as she gave Mrs. Hudson a hug which the older woman returned, patting Lexi on the arm and giving her a knowing look. Sherlock made a frustrated noise before he stomped back over to the harpoon and picked it up again. Behind him, Mrs. Hudson looked down at John who did the universal mime for offering someone a drink as Lexi moved to stand behind his chair, her arms resting on the back of it. Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock again as Lexi leaned her arms forward and looked down at the paper over John's shoulder. The army doctor tilted his head up to look at her briefly when her hair fell forward slightly and Lexi looked down at him and laughed before she brushed her hair back with her hand so it was no longer hitting him.

"How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon," Mrs. Hudson suggested as Lexi pushed herself back so that she was standing up straight again.

"I need something stronger than tea. Seven per cent stronger," Sherlock said as he glared out of the window before he turned back towards Mrs. Hudson and aimed the point of the harpoon at her. She flinched as Lexi back away into the kitchen to make Sherlock something a bit stronger than tea. "You've been to see Mr. Chatterjee again," Sherlock said as Lexi turned around and lifted her eyebrow as she looked Mrs. Hudson up and down before turning back to what she was doing.

"Pardon?" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock in confusion as Lexi gave Sherlock his first warning.

"Lock," Lexi said as she walked by the opening to the living room and threw a look over to Sherlock who ignored her as he continued on.

"Sandwich shop. That's a new dress, but there's flour on the sleeve. You wouldn't dress like that for baking," Sherlock continued on with his deductions pointing everything out with the harpoon's tip.

"Sherlock ...," John said but Sherlock cut him off as he continued on.

"Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don't we?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as Lexi made her way out of the kitchen, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Sher," Lexi said and John looked back at her, hearing the warning evident by her tone. One thing that John had come to realize was that she always called Sherlock "Lock" when she was giving him a playful warning, if that warning moved onto Sher it meant that she wasn't messing around anymore. If the warning ever got to Sherlock, the best thing to do would be to duck in Sherlock's case as it often meant she was about to smack him. Sherlock sniffed deeply as he finally stopped aiming the harpoon at Mrs. Hudson before he continued on with his rapid fire deductions.

"Mmm, 'Kasbah Nights'. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn't you agree? I've written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It's on the website – you should look it up. Lexi doesn't wear perfume normally, only on rare occasions, 'Celebrate' if I recall correctly," Sherlock said and Lexi raised her eyebrow dangerously.

"Sherlock," Lexi finally said and John sidled away from Lexi slightly in his chair as he watched her expression become dangerous.

"Please," Mrs. Hudson said in exasperation as Lexi tilted her head slightly to the right as she watched Sherlock.

"I wouldn't pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He's got a wife in Doncaster," Sherlock said and he adopted a south Yorkshire accent to say the town's name. "...that nobody knows about."

"Sherlock!" John shouted angrily but Sherlock just kept talking.

"Well, nobody except me and Lexi of course," Sherlock said, throwing his hands in the air and waving them around a bit near the sides of his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I really don't," Mrs. Hudson told him, sounding upset before she stormed out of the flat, slamming the living room door closed as she left. Sherlock leaped over the back of his chair from behind it, then perched on the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees like a petulant child as Lexi walked right over to him and smacked him upside the back of the head as John slammed his newspaper down.

"Woman!" Sherlock shouted before he grabbed Lexi by the waist and pulled her down on top of him as he put his feet down on the floor again. Lexi squeaked in surprise as she righted herself, Sherlock hugging her tightening round the middle to keep her arms pinned to her sides so she couldn't smack him again.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" John asked Sherlock furiously as Sherlock rocked him and Lexi back and forth a little, the Irish girl raising her eyebrow still, but her mouth turned up in an amused smile now rather than a hard line.

"You don't understand," Sherlock told John petulantly as Lexi sighed and turned her head, leaning back to press a kiss to Sherlock's cheek as he continued to hold her so she couldn't smack him again as that was likely to happen.

"Go after her and apologize," John told Sherlock sternly.

"Apologize?" Sherlock asked John in confusion, staring at him from over Lexi's shoulder and John hummed in confirmation. "Oh, John, I envy you so much," Sherlock sighed as he let go of Lexi's arms and started playing with the damp ends of her hair as Lexi pulled back and looked at him for a long moment before she leaned in to press another kiss to Sherlock's cheek, the consulting detective moving at the last minute to capture her lips with his own. Lexi pulled back and shook her head at him before she got up, Sherlock watching her as she moved back into the kitchen. John hesitated, wondering whether to rise to the bait, but eventually asked him the question that filled him with disbelief.

"You envy me?" John asked Sherlock in disbelief and exasperation.

"Your mind, it's so placid, straightforward, barely used. Mine's like an engine, racing out of control; a rocket tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad," Sherlock said before he raised his voice frantically as he moved back to sitting on his feet. "I need a case!" Sherlock shouted in irritation.

"You've just solved one! By harpooning a dead pig, apparently!" John shouted back at him as, with an exasperated noise, Sherlock jumped up in the air and then landed in the seated position on the chair again.

"I agree, we need another case and that one John was not nearly interesting enough to truly be worth our time," Lexi said as she walked out of the kitchen with three mugs of something that smelled rather good and walked over to them careful not to spill anything.

"That was this morning!" Sherlock shouted at John in agreement as he started drumming the fingers of both hands on the arms of the chair while stomping his feet on the floor. "When's the next one?" Sherlock asked as Lexi handed John one of the mugs which he discovered contained homemade hot chocolate upon inspection.

"Nothing on the website?" John asked as Sherlock got up and walked over to the table, collected his laptop, and handed it to John. While this was happening, Lexi calmly put Sherlock's mug down on the dining table before she sat down in his chair which he had just vacated.

"Nothing of importance. They're all rather trivial and some aren't even cases," Lexi told him as she blew on her drink. John looked at the message on Sherlock's website while the detective stomped over to the window and narrated part of it.

"Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Ms. Lexi MacKenna. I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please, please, please can you help?" Sherlock narrated as Lexi turned and looked back at him, looking amused at his antics.

"Bluebell?" John asked them in confusion as he read the message himself.

"A rabbit, John!" Sherlock shouted at him in irritation.

"A rather strange rabbit at that and there is more to it than you would think," Lexi remarked as John nodded slightly as if that made any sense.

"Oh," John said and Sherlock continued on rapidly, John fearing for his sanity.

"Exactly, there's more! Before Bluebell disappeared, it turned luminous...," Sherlock said before he adopted a little girl's voice for the next three words. "..."like a fairy" according to little Kirsty; then the next morning, Bluebell was gone!" Sherlock said as he made a weird arm gesture. "Hutch still locked, no sign of a forced entry ...," Sherlock finished before he stopped and his expression became more intense.

"He became the rabbit of negative euphoria," Lexi said vaguely and both Sherlock and John turned and gave her odd looks. "In other words a rather unhappy bunny…because he's dead," Lexi said and the boys continued to stare at her for a long moment before Sherlock shook his head at her fondly. "My guess is that it was an inside job," Lexi remarked before Sherlock gasped slightly as if he had a sudden idea.

"Ah! What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there's an escaped rabbit," Sherlock told John as he pointed to him.

"Are you serious?" John asked Sherlock as he stared at him in disbelief before he looked to Lexi who shrugged at him.

"When are we ever not serious?" Lexi asked John as she raised her eyebrow and looked at him pointedly.

"It's this, or Cluedo," Sherlock told John and Lexi enthusiastically cried, "Cluedo!"

"Ah, no!" John told them, pulling a face as he closed the laptop and got up to put it back on the table. "We are never playing that again!" John told them as Lexi frowned.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked John, sounding unhappy about this too as he folded his arms, putting one hand under his chin thoughtfully.

"Because it's not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that's why," John told the consulting detective who looked at him from over his shoulder.

"Well, it was the only possible solution," Sherlock told John in exasperation.

"And the only explanation of all the facts," Lexi added as she stood up and stretched, setting her mug down next to Sherlock's on the table.

"It's not in the rules," John told both of the detectives in exasperation as he sat down again. Lexi of course took Sherlock's side in the argument as she believed that it was plausible for the victim to have killed themselves.

"Then the rules are wrong!" Sherlock shouted furiously as Lexi wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down at her as his expression calmed slightly before the doorbell rang suddenly. John held up a finger thoughtfully as Sherlock and Lexi looked towards the living room door.

"Single ring," John said and Lexi's eyebrow raised slightly as a grin worked its way onto her face.

"Maximum pressure just under the half second," Sherlock deduced as Lexi pulled back from Sherlock and turned, the detective slipping an arm around her waist as she did so, so that he was still holding her.

"Exhibits a hesitance before they rang the bell and now they are most likely wondering why they've come here in the first place," Lexi added as they all exchanged a knowing look.

"Client," The three of them said simultaneously before Lexi threw a look to both of the boys and walked to the living room door before disappearing down the stairs. It looked like the next case had found them rather than them finding their next case.

**Lexi's POV**

Not long afterwards, the three of us along with our client Henry Knight were watching a recording of a documentary that was playing on the TV. Sherlock had taken off his dressing gown and exchanged it for a jacket and I had slipped into my room while John was getting Henry a mug of tea and quickly changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a sage green tank top which I put under a rose coloured long sleeved button down which I left unbuttoned. My hair was now dry and I had left it down like Sherlock liked. I was sitting with Sherlock in his chair, my feet shoved into the space between his leg and the arm of the chair. Sherlock had one arm around my waist and the other on top of my knees as I settled back on him comfortably. John had relocated to the dining table chair near Sherlock's, and Henry was sitting in John's chair. The documentary footage showed scenes of Dartmoor. I could tell that Sherlock was already bored so I rubbed small circles over the back of his hand that he had resting on my knees.

"Dartmoor. It's always been a place of myth and legend, but is there something else lurking out here – something very real?" The presenter in the documentary said dramatically as footage of "Keep Out" signs was shown. "Because Dartmoor's also home to one of the government's most secret of operations ...," The presenter continued as she walked along a narrow road. Sherlock's eyes flicked repeatedly between the screen and the man in John's chair as the footage showed a large sign saying:

**AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY**

**YOU ARE NOW ENTERING A RESTRICTED AREA**

**BASKERVILLE**

By this time Sherlock's eyes were permanently fixed on our client who was watching the documentary anxiously. Baskerville, I had heard about it. In fact it was one of those places that Mycroft would prefer that I didn't know about. What intrigued me was that our client seemed so transfixed on a documentary he had probably seen many times before. I raised my eyebrow and watched the footage as Sherlock watched out client. He collected information about our clients and I collected the information about our cases.

"...the chemical and biological weapons research centre which is said to be even more sensitive than Porton Down. Since the end of the Second World War, there've been persistent stories about the Baskerville experiments: genetic mutations, animals grown for the battlefield. There are many who believe that within this compound, in the heart of this ancient wilderness, there are horrors beyond imagining. But the real question is: are all of them still inside?" The presenter asked and I rolled my eyes at how dramatic she was being while the footage switched to an indoor scene where Henry was sitting in front of the camera talking to an off-screen interviewer. A caption at the bottom of the screen showed him as "Henry Knight, Grimpen resident".

"I was just a kid. It-it was on the moor," Henry was saying on the documentary. There was a cutaway to a child's drawing of a huge snarling dog with red eyes. The caption said, "Henry's drawing (aged 9)". "It was dark, but I know what I saw. I know what killed my father," Henry said on screen before Sherlock sighed and picked up the remote control and switched off the footage.

"What did you see?" Sherlock asked Henry as I turned to him, slightly amused. I knew that the subject was serious, but it was just the way the documentary portrayed everything.

"And try to be as exact as you can," I told Henry as I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully as I looked him over carefully, deducing him.

"Oh," Henry said as he pointed to the television. "I ... I was just about to say," Henry told us as he flicked his gaze to me again like he had been doing for the last few minutes. That was one of the new things that clients did. They seemed to watch Sherlock and me more closely since John's blog post when he confirmed our relationship. Molly had taken the news not terribly badly. She had been slightly upset, but she said she was happy for us. I felt bad, but then again, I didn't. A lot of our female clients seemed to be nosy to see if what John said was actually true and the male clients still hit on me from time to time.

"Yes, in a TV interview. We prefer to do our own editing," Sherlock told Henry as he started playing with my hair which he did often when he started getting irritated as he said that it calmed him down.

"Yes. Sorry, yes, of course. 'Scuse me," Henry said as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a paper napkin, and wiped his nose on it. I wrinkled my nose slightly as I leaned more into Sherlock's chest.

"In your own time," John told him and Sherlock immediately spoke right after him.

"But quite quickly," Sherlock told Henry who lowered his napkin as I turned to look at Sherlock.

"Lock," I warned him and he nodded minutely at me.

"Do you know Dartmoor, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna?" Henry asked us as we turned back to look at him and I raised my eyebrow at Henry slightly.

"No," Sherlock told Henry as I made a so-so hand gesture.

"Vaguely. I've never been myself but I've heard things about it of course," I told Henry as Sherlock and John both looked at me in slight surprise by that admission.

"It's an amazing place. It's like nowhere else. It's sort of ... bleak but beautiful," Henry told us, looking very thoughtful.

"Mmm, not interested. Moving on," Sherlock told Henry impatiently and the man's face fell slightly.

"Though nice description," I told Henry to make him feel better as I gave Sherlock a pointed look.

"We used to go for walks, after my mum died, my dad and me. Every evening we'd go out onto the moor," Henry told us before Sherlock cut him off.

"Yes, good. Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed. Where did that happen?" Sherlock asked Henry and John's eyes raised skywards at Sherlock's insensitive question. I smacked Sherlock on the back of the head and he let out a sound of annoyance as he grabbed my hand and glared back at me. "Woman! Stop that!" Sherlock ordered me and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Never," I assured Sherlock and he glared at me for a second longer before I looked back at Henry who was watching us with a look of surprise on his face as he awkwardly shifted in his seat under my gaze. I gestured for him to continue and he nodded at me.

"There's a place – it's... it's a sort of local landmark called Dewer's Hollow," Henry told us and he gazed at Sherlock who tilted his head at him in a way that asked "And...?"

"Dewer. It's an ancient name for the Devil. It's fitting if a bit dramatic," I said and Henry nodded in confirmation of my thought as I tilted my head to the right thoughtfully. Drama seemed to be the general theme here for Dartmoor and Baskerville, but what I knew of both, that was sort of the point.

"So?" Sherlock asked us quirking an eyebrow.

"Did you see the Devil that night?" John asked Henry and Henry looked across to him and nodded, his face haunted with memories.

"Yes," Henry told us in a whisper and I frowned, trying to be open minded about this. "It was huge. Coal-black fur, with red eyes," Henry described to us. "It got him, tore at him, tore him apart," Henry told us tearfully as Sherlock and I watched him intensely. It all sounded like more of a horror story, but just that a story. Henry however was very much assured that what he had seen was real. "I can't remember anything else. They found me the next morning, just wandering on the moor. My dad's body was never found," Henry finished and I frowned.

"Hmm," John hummed as he looked across to Sherlock and me. "Red eyes, coal-black fur, enormous: dog? Wolf?" John asked us as I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest as Sherlock reached out and put a hand on the small of my back.

"Or a genetic experiment," Sherlock said and he looked away, biting back a smile.

"Or none of the above," I said thoughtfully as I looked at Henry, still frowning. From my Psychology knowledge, Henry didn't sound like a madman, but his story also didn't sound plausible. A dog of the size he described couldn't have been a wolf or any breed of domestic dog and the idea of it being some sort of genetic experiment sounded highly unlikely.

"Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?" Henry asked Sherlock in offense.

"Why, are you joking?" Sherlock asked Henry as he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville; about the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously," Henry said and I nodded my head from side to side as I pulled a face. The TV people would take him seriously. They wanted a story and he was giving them exactly what they wanted. They were using him.

"And, I assume, did wonders for Devon tourism," Sherlock quipped back and I sighed heavily. Exactly, Henry's story had helped them more than it helped him.

"Yeah ...," John said uncomfortably in an attempt to stop Sherlock's continuing sarcasm. I cut in however as I looked down at Henry.

"Baskerville has a long history and not a very good one. Most people would rather believe the stories they hear rather than searching for the truth. That's not to say your father wasn't on to something, but people have been thinking the same things for years," I told Henry as I uncrossed my arms and flicked my gaze over to Sherlock who was listening to me with one eyebrow slightly raised. Baskerville was just one of the places I knew a thing or two about that I probably shouldn't. John leaned forward to Henry and Sherlock rolled his eyes when he realized what John was doing.

"Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?" John asked Henry and I nodded my head, frowning in thought as I tilted my head to the side.

"John has point, why now of all times. Unless…," I said, trailing off as I looked down at Sherlock, my eyes widening as I made my deduction. I sat down on the arm of Sherlock's chair and he wrapped his arm around my waist as I looked back to Henry who sat forward, staring at Sherlock and me.

"I'm not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, since you find it all so funny," Henry said furiously as he stood up and walked around the chair, heading towards the door.

"He might, but I don't. And you came to us for help…," I told Henry calmly, trailing off to let Sherlock finish for me.

"Because of what happened last night," Sherlock finished for me and I turned to him, sharing a look with him.

"Why, what happened last night?" John asked us in confusion as Henry turned back towards us.

"Exactly what you would expect to happen," I told John vaguely as I regarded Henry closely.

"How ... how do you know?" Henry asked us in disbelief and I shrugged at him.

"We didn't know; we noticed," Sherlock told Henry as John shuffled in his chair with an "Oh dear lord, here we go" expression on his face.

"It's sort of our job to. You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning, that was the first clue," I told Henry before Sherlock took over with our deductions.

"You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr. Knight, and do please smoke. We'd be delighted," Sherlock told Henry, rapid fire, as I nodded. As much as I hated my habit of smoking I just couldn't quit it like I would like to. I was adjusting to the nicotine patch like Sherlock used, but it wasn't the same. I had only picked up smoking as a way to calm myself down, but like with all drugs I became addicted. Henry stared at us, then glanced across to John who averted his gaze and sighed. Hesitantly, Henry walked back to the chair and sat down, fishing in his jacket pocket.

"How on earth did you notice all that?!" Henry asked us in shock and I shrugged at him again.

"As I said, it's our job to," I told Henry again while at the same time John said. "It's not important...," Sherlock started off explaining our deductions to Henry, just as quickly as he had given them before.

"Punched-out holes where your ticket's been checked ...," Sherlock said, looking at two small round white pieces of paper stuck to Henry's coat.

"Not now, Sherlock," John told Sherlock, cutting him off and Sherlock sighed in exasperation.

"Oh please. I've been cooped up in here for ages," Sherlock complained as I looked back at him in amusement and carded my fingers through his hair once.

"You're just showing off," John told him in irritation and Sherlock turned to look at him, nodding.

"Of course. I am a show-off. That's what we do and besides, Lexi loves listening to me," Sherlock told John before he turned to look up at me. "Don't deny it, it's true," He told me and I grinned down at him as I put a hand on his cheek and rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone.

"I won't deny it or the fact that I find it sexy," I told Sherlock and he cleared his throat awkwardly as he blushed slightly. I giggled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone before I pulled my hand back, Sherlock catching it and holding it in his in his lap. He turned his attention back to Henry and the napkin that he was still holding, his cheeks still tinged a bit pink.

"The train napkin that you used to mop up the spilled coffee: the strength of the stain shows that you didn't take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and round your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast – or the nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich," Sherlock deduced and Henry half-sobbed, over-awed.

"How did you know it was disappointing?" Henry asked us in a chocked voice.

"Is there any other type of breakfast on a train?" Sherlock asked Henry, raising his eyebrows. "The girl – female handwriting is quite distinctive. Take Lexi's for example, it's very flowing, but back onto the subject at hand. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she wrote at that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later – after she got off, I imagine – you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You've been over the last four digits yourself with another pen, so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you're not that into her after all. Then there's the nicotine stains on your fingers ... your shaking fingers. I know the signs," Sherlock said as he gaze became intense, though Sherlock's gaze was always intense. "No chance to smoke one on the train; no time to roll one before you got a cab here," Sherlock continued as he glanced at his watch. "It's just after nine fifteen. You're desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at five forty-six a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night," Sherlock said, flicking his gaze over to me as indication for me to cut in and add anything.

"Something that shocked you enough to seek out our help mind you, though you were and still are hesitant to ask because you doubt that we'll believe you," I added as Henry turned his gaze to me,

"Are we wrong?" Sherlock asked Henry in a note of finality and Henry stared at us in amazement before he drew in a shaky breath.

"No," Henry told us and Sherlock smiled smugly. John took a drink from his mug to hide his "oh bugger it" look as I grinned slightly and nodded my head to the side once in a "there we go" gesture. "You're right. You two are completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you two were quick," Henry said, awestruck.

"It's our job as Lexi has said," Sherlock told Henry as he leaned forward in his seat and glared at him intensely. "Now shut up and smoke," Sherlock told him and John frowned towards him. As Henry took out a roll-up and lit it, John consulted the notes he's taken so far. I looked at Sherlock who was staring intensely at Henry's cigarette and sighed as I poked him in the arm. He flicked his gaze over to me and I raised my eyebrow. He rolled his eyes at me before he went back to watching Henry intensely. I wouldn't lie, I could really use one now too, but I wasn't that desperate. I was alright my two patches for right now, if I bit antsy.

"Um," John said and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Henry, your parents both died and you were, what, seven years old?" John asked Henry who was concentrating on taking his first drag of his cigarette. As he exhaled his first lungful, Sherlock stood up and stepped closer to him as I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him fondly.

"I know. That ... my ...," Henry said, stopping as Sherlock leaned into the smoke drifting up from the cigarette and from Henry's mouth and breathed in deeply and noisily through his nose. Having sucked up most of the smoke, he sat down again and breathed out, whining quietly in pleasure.

"That must be a ... quite a trauma. Have you ever thought that maybe you invented this story, this...," John said, trying hard to ignore him. Henry exhaled another lungful of smoke and Sherlock dove in to noisily hoover up the smoke again. John paused patiently until he sat down again. "...to account for it?" John finished as Henry dragged his eyes away from Sherlock.

"Love, sit down please," I told Sherlock and he turned to me, his eyes pleading. _'I'll get you some later,'_ I told him and his eyes lit up with hope as I smiled at him fondly and grabbed his hand, linking our fingers together.

"That's what Doctor Mortimer says," Henry told John as both he and the army doctor looked away from us.

"Who?" John asked Henry in confusion.

"His therapist," Sherlock and I said in unison as almost simultaneously Henry said, "My therapist."

"Obviously," Sherlock remarked as he picked up my hair and started playing with it with the hand not holding mine.

"Louise Mortimer. She's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons," Henry said and I looked across to him and nodded.

"Which is fairly normal. That does help and I speak from experience on the matter," I told Henry and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me before he looked back at Henry and continued.

"And what happened when you went back to Dewer's Hollow last night, Henry? You went there on the advice of your therapist and now you're consulting with detectives. What did you see that changed everything?" Sherlock asked Henry as I nodded and leaned forward slightly.

"It's a strange place, the Hollow," Henry started as he looked lost in thought. "Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid."

"Yes, if I wanted poetry I'd read John's emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. John sighed hard in an attempt to release the tension that might make him kill Sherlock and I turned my head and looked at him, offering him a shrug. "What did you see?" Sherlock asked Henry.

"Footprints – on the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart," Henry told us and Sherlock leaned back in his seat, looking exasperated.

"Man's or a woman's?" John asked Henry as I frowned thoughtfully.

"Neither. They were...," Henry began before Sherlock interrupted him.

"Is that it? Nothing else. Footprints. Is that all?" Sherlock asked Henry in exasperation.

"Yes, but they were ...," Henry started again but Sherlock cut him off like before.

"No, sorry, Doctor Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking," Sherlock told Henry as I stood up again, Sherlock's eyes following my movement.

"Lock, I'm not so sure about that," I told him and he raised his eyes slightly in silent questioning at me.

"No, but what about the footprints?" Henry asked us as Sherlock turned away from me to look at him again as I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't letting the subject drop. It was a promising case and I didn't think that Sherlock should just dismiss it so quickly. I had heard a lot about Baskerville and even Dartmoor. A lot of our recent cases hadn't been worth our time, but this was actually worth looking into.

"Oh, they're probably paw prints; could be anything, therefore nothing," Sherlock said as he leaned forward in his seat. I narrowed my eyes at him slightly and I realized he was doing everything he could to not look me in the eyes. He was trying to not break in his mental resolve to just dismiss Henry but he knew, like I did that he would take the case if he looked at me for longer than a second.

"Or quite possible something," I challenged Sherlock, giving him a pointed look and he looked at me for a second before turning back to Henry and flicking his fingers at him, gesturing him towards the door.

"Off to Devon with you; have a cream tea on us," Sherlock told Henry, standing up and buttoning his jacket like a proper gentleman. Sherlock headed into the kitchen as Henry turned in his seat to look at him.

"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Henry shouted after him and Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned and came back to the kitchen doorway and stared down at Henry.

"Say that again," Sherlock ordered him as I raised my eyebrow and smirked slightly. Henry didn't know it yet, but he just said the right thing. Now Sherlock was interested.

"Exactly what you just said," I told Henry and he turned to look at me quickly before turning back to Sherlock again.

"I found the footprints; they were ...," Henry said before Sherlock cut him off, stopping him.

"No, no, no, your exact words as Lexi said. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them," Sherlock told Henry and he thought for a second, then slowly recited his words back to Sherlock.

"Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic ... hound," Henry told us and Sherlock raised his head to look at me. I nodded at him once, answering his unspoken question.

"We'll take the case," Sherlock told Henry as I walked over to Sherlock's side.

"Sorry, what?" John asked us started as Sherlock adopted his prayer position in front of his mouth and began to pace slowly across the living room, flicking his gaze over to me as he passed me.

"Thank you for bringing this to our attention. It's very promising," Sherlock told Henry and I hummed in agreement.

"It is," I agreed as I looked at Henry and adopted my own thinking pose, my index fingers steepled under my nose as I rested them against my lips.

"No-no-no, sorry, what? A minute ago, footprints were boring; now they're very promising?" John asked us in bewilderment.

"It's nothing to do with footprints. As ever, John, you weren't listening. Baskerville, ever heard of it?" Sherlock asked John as he stopped his pacing.

"Vaguely. It's very hush-hush," John answered him and I snorted, three pairs of eyes landing on me when I did.

"For some people, yes, unless you know how to find information," I told the boys and Henry frowned at me not getting my meaning. John looked at me in surprise as Sherlock smirked at me proudly.

"Sounds like a good place to start," Sherlock said and I nodded at him, grinning.

"Generally speak, yes," I agreed with him.

"Ah! You'll come down, then?" Henry asked us in relief.

"No, we can't leave London at the moment. Far too busy. Don't worry – putting our best man onto it," Sherlock told Henry as he walked over to John and patted his shoulder. "Always rely on John to send us the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it himself."

"What are you talking about, you're busy? You two don't have a case! A minute ago you were complaining ...," John started before Sherlock interrupted him.

"Bluebell, John! We've got Bluebell! The case of the vanishing, glow-in-the-dark rabbit!" Sherlock told John quickly before he turned slightly and looked at Henry. "NATO's in uproar," Sherlock told him as I watched Sherlock in amusement.

"Oh, sorry, no, you two aren't not coming, then?" Henry asked is in confusion as Sherlock shook his head sadly, putting on a regretful expression. John groaned once and I looked over at the army doctor.

"Okay," John said as he stood up while Sherlock smiled smugly. "Okay," John said again as he walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up Yorrick, taking our packet of cigarettes from underneath it. I was right, exactly where I thought he had stashed them. Putting the skull down again, he turned and tossed the packet across to Sherlock, who caught it and instantly tossed it to me over his shoulder as I had gotten up and walked behind him to get my laptop. I caught the packet without turning my head and put it into my back pocket for later.

"We don't need those any more. We're going to Dartmoor," Sherlock told John before he walked out of the living room. "You go on ahead, Henry. We'll follow later," Sherlock told him as I picked up my laptop and walked towards Sherlock.

"Er, sorry, so you two are coming?" Henry asked us as he scrambled to his feet.

Sherlock turned and walked back into the room as I stopped at the end of the coffee table. "Twenty year old disappearance; a monstrous hound? We wouldn't miss this for the world!" Sherlock told him before he turned and walked away towards our bedroom. "Lexi!" Sherlock called and I grinned at John and Henry before I followed after him. Sherlock was holding our bedroom door open for me and he shut it as soon as I stepped inside our room.

"Admit it, it interests you," I told Sherlock as I sat down on our bed and tucked my legs underneath me as I opened my laptop and started it up.

"Mildly," Sherlock told me as he plucked our suit cases from under our bed and laid them out on his side of the bed. "What interests me more is Baskerville and what they might be doing there," Sherlock told me as he started to walk around our room, pulling clothes out of his dresser as he got started packing. As he passed by me he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Can you get us in?" Sherlock asked me as I open up my web browser and started making plans for our trip to Dartmoor.

"Of course. You are talking to me remember?" I asked Sherlock as I looked up at him, grinning. He smirked back at me before he opened our door and headed out into my room to grab my clothes. I had some in our room, but most of them were still in the other room because it meant that we had more room in our bedroom. "I can get Joanna to help me," I called to Sherlock and he appeared a minute later with an armful of clothes which he dumped into my suitcase before he started folding them properly. I smirked at him when he picked up one of my bras which was black and had a rather lot white lace around it and eyed it. "If you really want there is lingerie in the back of my top drawer," I teased Sherlock and he dropped my bra into my suit case quickly, his cheeks turning flaming red. I turned back to my laptop and continued on with my work as Sherlock packed. Once he was finished, Sherlock zipped up our bags and set them on the floor before he crawled onto the bed with me and took my laptop out of my hands, setting it on the end of the bed, before he pulled me up against him.

"You'll be the death of me woman," Sherlock muttered into my ear, his breath tickling my neck and I giggled at him as I turned and snuggled up against his chest, under his chin.

"Would you want it any other way?" I asked Sherlock as I sighed in contentment and closed my eyes, Sherlock's arms wrapping tightly around my waist as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Sherlock hummed a response and we laid together for a while before John called for us. We sighed and the moment was over and we got up to join our army doctor, ready to head out to Dartmoor.

A little later, John carried two of our large bags out onto the street, the first having been carried down by Sherlock. I shut the front door behind us and we walked over to join Sherlock who was holding a cab door open. Next door in Speedy's, Mrs. Hudson was shouting angrily at an unseen Mr. Chatterjee.

"... cruise together. You had no intention of taking me on it...," Mrs. Hudson yelled and she threw something at the closed door. As it bounced heavily off the glass, John recoiled.

"Oh! Looks like Mrs Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster," John said and I nodded in agreement.

"Mmm. Wait 'til she finds out about the one in Islamabad," Sherlock told John and he sniggered and got into the cab. I kissed Sherlock on the jawbone as I passed by him and got into the cab next to John. Sherlock slid in next to me and put his arm around my shoulders as I snuggled into his side. "Paddington Station, please," Sherlock told the cabbie who nodded before he pulled out onto the road. We were off on another case and one that held the promise of a mysterious hound of Baskerville.

**Third Person POV**

The trip to Dartmoor went better than John had expected it too. Lexi had kept Sherlock occupied on the train by playing some sort of deduction game with him. When they had deduced everyone, Lexi pulled a few files from her case bag which John discovered were cold case files she had gotten from Lestrade. She had enough to keep him fully occupied for the last hour of their train ride, during which Sherlock solved seven cases. John had to admit that they were sort of cute, curled up in their seats across from him. While Sherlock poured over the files, Lexi laid her head down on his shoulder, tucked into his side. She dosed for a bit, rousing when they pulled in at the station and the trio disembarked from the train. From there they had picked up the rental car that Lexi had gotten them and John was impressed with the fact that she had thought of everything from keeping Sherlock busy so the trip wouldn't be unbearable to booking things ahead so they wouldn't have to wait in a line. They set off from the train station in their large black Land Rover jeep, Lexi preparing for any kind of four wheel drive they might be heading off to do. Sherlock was driving, a fact that John was not too keen on which was why he was sitting in the passenger's seat. Lexi sitting just behind them, working on her mobile. John wasn't too sure what she was doing, but Lexi had told Sherlock that they were all set for something which he apparently understood.

As they got closer to Grimpen, Sherlock pulled off the main road and they got out, hiking over to a large stone outcrop. John got out a map and stood at the foot of it, consulting his map, while Sherlock had opted for climbing up the rocks. He had proceeded to help Lexi climb her way up to a flat platform on top of the rocks. John had told them to be careful, just knowing that something would happen and Lexi would end up getting hurt before this case had even started. Lexi had thrown a look at him as if she could read his mind, but she had been extra careful for him as she made her way up to Sherlock who was holding her closely to him so that she wouldn't fall. His excuse was that women had a lower centre of gravity but John wasn't fooled and knew that Sherlock would make any excuse to be able to hold Lexi without making it seem like that was what he wanted. John pointed ahead of himself at a large array of buildings in the distance.

"There's Baskerville," John said as he turned and pointed behind them. Sherlock and Lexi turned to look at Baskerville, Lexi's eyes narrowing slightly. "That's Grimpen Village," John said as he turned and looked ahead of them again, checking the map for the name of the heavily wooded area to the left of the Baskerville complex. "So that must be ... yeah, it's Dewer's Hollow," John told them and Sherlock pointed to an area in between the complex and the Hollow.

"What's that?" Sherlock called down to John who hummed questioningly as he lifted the binoculars Lexi had given him from around his neck and looked more closely at the fencing and the warning signs.

"Minefield? Technically Baskerville's an army base, so I guess they've always been keen to keep people out," John called up to them and Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he looked at the area more closely.

"Clearly," Sherlock said and Lexi laughed slightly.

"As I said, Baskerville has a long history," Lexi told the boys as Sherlock started down off the rocks, helping her down as he went. "It has a bad reputation, but most places like it do," Lexi said as she and Sherlock's feet hit terra firma again and John was able to breathe a sigh of relief. "Think of it as England's own Area 51," Lexi said with a laugh as they hiked back to the car and got back in before continuing on to Grimpen Villege.

The town was quite small and therefore they couldn't be too choosy about where they were staying. Lexi had managed to get them the last room available at Cross Keys inn. With monster hunter fanatics and tourist coming to Dartmoor to seek the hound, the place was packed with people which was at least good for the locals. John wasn't sure how she managed to swing everything as it seemed almost too perfect, but he had learned never to doubt her in the past. When it came to planning things, Lexi was the best at coming up with an idea. Sherlock pulled into the car park and the trio got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of the inn and pub, where a young man who was apparently a tour guide was talking to a group of tourists.

"...three times a day, tell your friends. Tell anyone!" The tour guide said as Lexi slipped on her grey coat as the three of them walked past the group and saw that the tour guide was standing next to a large sign on which was painted a black image of a wolf-like creature with the words "BEWARE THE HOUND!" above it. "Don't be strangers, and remember ... stay away from the moor at night if you value your lives!" The man said and Lexi rolled her eyes. Sherlock had been pulling his overcoat around him as he walked towards the pub, and now he popped the collar at the same time that Lexi popped hers before he slipped an arm around his girlfriend's waist. Lexi had returned to using her grey coat and green, plaid scarf after the Irene case and her military trench coat had joined Sherlock's collection of disguises. John looked round at the two of them pointedly.

"I'm cold," Sherlock told the army doctor trying and failing to look nonchalant. Lexi raised her eyebrow and smirked at John who rolled his eyes at her. The tourist group walked away from man out front. Once their backs were turned he put on a large shaggy wolf's-head mask. Sherlock, John and Lexi walked into the pub after Lexi threw the tour guide a disapproving look. The pub had a blackboard outside advertising "Boutique Rooms & Vegetarian Cuisine". It would appear that the hound was not the only thing they had to worry about here in Dartmoor, but also the village idiots.

**Henry's POV**

Henry was in the middle of a flashback of his father being grabbed by something in Dewer's Hollow, and a young version of his horrified face. In the present, the adult Henry flinched, his eyes closed as he sat half reclined on a comfortable armchair. The flashback continued to haunt him until he opened his eyes and sighed. A woman was sitting a short distance away with a notebook and pen on her lap.

"That part doesn't change," Henry told his therapist sighing slightly.

"What does?" Dr. Mortimer asked him and Henry ran his hands over his face.

"Oh, there's something else. It-it's a word," Henry stammered slightly and he sighed heavily in concentration. He closed his eyes again and saw the word as if it was stitched or knitted into some fabric. "Liberty," He told her as he opened his eyes again.

"Liberty?" Dr. Mortimer asked him and Henry closed his eyes again.

"There's another word," Henry told her and he concentrated and saw the next word in the stitching.  
>"In. I-N. Liberty In," Henry told her as he looked round at his therapist. "What do you think it means?" He asked her and she shook her head and Henry sighed in frustration.<p>

**Third Person POV**

Sherlock was prowling around the pub as John and Lexi waited at the bar to check in. Sherlock had been antsy after the car ride so Lexi had told him to go look around and see what he could find out while she and John checked into their room. John had asked Lexi how she seemed to always know what Sherlock needed and she had told him that it was because she could understand Sherlock. Lexi knew when he needed to be left alone or when he needed her to just sit with him. He could give her a look and she would know what he wanted without him having to tell her aloud. The fact was that Lexi could understand Sherlock better than anybody else. Right now if she had made him stay still and wait he would have pouted and then probably started to insult people. He didn't like waiting, but she was patient enough for the both of them. While John and Lexi waited for the manager and barman, Gary, to hand them over their keys, Lexi had her back turned and her arms crossed as she watched Sherlock closely before she assured herself that he was fine on his own. Gary handed John over their keys as Lexi turned back around.

"Eh, sorry we couldn't do a double room for you three," Gary said and Lexi shook her head at him. She had to take what she could get. It would be awkward, but they would manage just fine.

"That's fine. We-we're not...," John said looking at the smug knowing smile on Gary's face before he gave up. Lexi bit her lip to keep from giggling. Somehow even when she was with the boy's people still thought that they were gay. Of course Sherlock and Lexi could almost pass as siblings if you squinted enough since they were both tall and pale and had high cheek bones. Other than that the resemblance stopped which Lexi was thankful for. "There you go," John said as he gave Gary some money for the drink he had just bought.

"Oh, ta. I'll just get your change. Anything for you love?" Gary asked Lexi as he looked over at her and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Ah what the Hell, a Guinness," Lexi told Gary as she handed him some money from her pocket. He nodded and moved over to till.

"Ta," John told him as Gary walked away. John's gaze fell on a pile of receipts and invoices which had been punched onto a spike on the bar and Lexi looked over to see what he was looking at. John frowned and Lexi saw what made him make that face. One of the receipts was labelled "Undershaw Meat Supplies". John quickly reached out and ripped it from the spike, putting it into his pocket after sharing a knowing look with Lexi as Gary came back with their change and her pint.

"There you go," Gary told them has he handed them their change and Lexi took her pint from him.

"Cheers!" Lexi told him as she saluted him with the glass before she took a sip.

"I couldn't help noticing on the map of the moor, a skull and crossbones," John said curiously as Lexi looked back at Sherlock who was still nosing around the pub. She grinned at him fondly as she leaned against the bar, watching him as she took a sip of her Guinness.

"Oh that, aye," Gary told them as he walked around the back of the bar.

"Pirates?" John joked and Lexi snorted and looked back at him in amusement.

"Eh, no, no. The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it," Gary told him and Lexi sighed in exasperation.

"Oh, right," John said and Lexi smacked him on the arm.

"Honestly John, pirates?" Lexi asked him, shaking her head in disbelief as Gary watched her in amusement. Lexi pushed off of the bar and walked away, still muttering to herself as she went to poke around the bar for a minute herself.

"It's not what you think. It's the Baskerville testing site. It's been going for eighty-odd years. I'm not sure anyone really knows what's there anymore," Gary told John as nearby, Sherlock was still prowling around and seemed to suddenly find something of interest at one of the tables as Lexi snuck up on him and wrapped her free arm around his waist, giggling when Sherlock jumped in surprise and turned to look at her quickly.

"Explosives?" John asked Gary who shook his head.

"Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and, if you're lucky, you just get blown up, so they say ... in case you're planning on a nice wee stroll," Gary told him and John nodded slightly, wondering just how much Lexi knew about this place. Sherlock lost interest in the table, thought that was possibly because Lexi was distracting him, and the two of them wandered off again.

"Ta. I'll remember," John assured Gary, remembering how Lexi had told him in the car that everyone seemed to be over dramatic when it came to Baskerville.

"Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound!" Gary chuckled as he came out from behind the bar to clear some glasses. "Did you see that show, that documentary?" Gary asked John who nodded in confirmation.

"Quite recently, yeah," John told him, turning to look at him as Gary picked up two empty glasses from a nearby table.

"Aye. God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell," Gary said as he brought the glasses over to the bar and leaned against it.

"Ever seen it – the hound?" John asked Gary, realizing why Lexi had walked away. She was letting him collect Intel while she went off with Sherlock to make deductions.

"Me? No," Gary told John as he pointed out the door past Sherlock and Lexi, where the tour guide was just outside the pub, talking on his phone. "Fletcher has. He runs the walks – the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He's seen it," Gary said as Lexi raised her eyebrow and John saw her give a pointed look to Sherlock who nodded at her before Lexi grinned.

"That's handy for trade," John said as Gary turned to a man who was clearly the inn's cook and who had just arrived behind the bar. Meanwhile Sherlock and Lexi turned and followed Fletcher as he walked away from the doorway, John losing sight of the both of them.

"I'm just saying we've been rushed off our feet, Billy," Gary said, greeting the man, apparently Billy.

"Yeah. Lots of monster-hunters. Doesn't take much these days. One mention on Twitter and oomph," Billy told John before he looked at Gary. "We're out of WKD," Billy told Gary who nodded.

"All right," Gary told him and he walked behind the bar again as Billy turned to John.

"What with the monster and that ruddy prison, I don't know how we sleep nights. Do you, Gary?" Billy asked and Gary stopped and put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him affectionately.

"Like a baby," Gary told Billy and John smiled awkwardly at the pair of them.

"That's not true," Billy said as he looked round at John. "He's a snorer,"

"Hey, hush!" Gary said embarrassedly, trying to shut him up but Billy only looked round at John again.

"Is yours a snorer?" Billy asked John with a knowing smirk.

"... Got any crisps?" John asked Billy, changing the subject. How was it that even when they had Lexi with them and Lexi and Sherlock were so obviously together that people still mistook them as being gay? He did not carry a silent torch for Sherlock Holmes!

**Sherlock's POV**

Outside, Sherlock swiped a half-drunk pint of beer from a nearby empty table as he and Lexi walked over towards Fletcher. Lexi wrinkled her nose at him in disgust but Sherlock paid her no mind as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head which got her to roll her eyes at him playfully. Sherlock noticed as they got closer to the boy that he had a copy of the Racing Post in his trouser pocket. Fletcher had gone over to another of the tables and was just finishing his phone call.

"Yeah ...," Fletcher nodded. "No. All right? Right. Take care. 'Bye," The boy said as he finished his call and hung up.

"Mind if we join you?" Sherlock asked him and Fletcher looked between Sherlock and Lexi. Sherlock didn't like the way the boy suddenly started eyeing Lexi and his hand tightened slightly around her hip in a possessive way. Lexi smirked slightly and looked at him from the corners of her eyes as Fletchers eyes fell on Sherlock's hand before they shot back between Sherlock and Lexi quickly. He shrugged and gestured to the table. Sherlock put his pint down as did Lexi, only she was drinking something a lot stronger than Sherlock's stolen beer. It wouldn't do to not be seen drinking at a pub and to look like a couple enjoying a drink together he needed a prop. Sherlock didn't often drink, the occasional glass of wine with Lexi obviously, but beyond that he saw no sense in it. He knew that Lexi would drink to quiet her mind a bit, but that was her method. He noted of course that since the end of the Irene case and the progression of their relationship that she drank less than when they first met. She remarked that he was much better at quieting her mind these days, a fact he was quite proud of. The two of them sat on the bench on the other side of the table from the boy, Lexi leaning her head against his shoulder. The tension in Sherlock's shoulders melted away and he relaxed slightly, still holding Lexi possessively to him. "It's not true, is it? You haven't actually seen this ... hound thing," Sherlock asked as he adopted his role as a typical tourist and laughed slightly before he grinned at the boy in what would be perceived as a friendly way.

"You two from the papers?" Fletcher asked them as he looked round at them suspiciously. Lexi laughed and waved him off with her hand.

"No, nothing like that. We came up to see what all the fuss was about. We're just curious and I love a good mystery. Is it true you've seen it, the hound?" Lexi asked the boy and Sherlock took note that she thickened her Irish accent a bit as she acted over excited. Most of the times Lexi spoke with a British accent that occasionally had a light Irish lisp to some of her words, but on rare occasions like this one, she plied on her accent thickly when she thought it might help their case.

"Maybe," Fletcher told her, winking slightly and Lexi grinned slightly as she picked up her pint and took a sip.

"Got any proof?" Sherlock asked Fletcher who turned to look at him.

"Why would I tell you if I did?" Fletcher scoffed before he looked away from Sherlock. "'Scuse me," said as he stood up to leave.

"Sorry love, I guess that's it," Sherlock told Lexi as he looked over at her and kissed the top of her head as she pouted. She looked up at him and Sherlock saw her nose slightly wrinkled from the endearing term before she shook her head slightly, unnoticeable to anyone except for him. He agreed with her that term she often used for him sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. The only endearing term that he called her was woman and she actually didn't mind that one. Any others sounded wrong coming from him.

"Sorry about what?" Fletcher asked Sherlock asked ignored him, looking down at his watch instead.

"Our plan needs darkness," Sherlock said, looking up at sky before he looked over at Lexi who was watching him with a fond smile on her face. "Reckon we've got another half an hour of light ...," Sherlock said before Fletcher interrupted him like he knew he would if he laid the bait properly.

"Wait, wait. What plans?" Fletcher asked him and Lexi sighed heavily as she pulled her pouting face and looked up at Sherlock through the frames of her glasses.

"I brought my fiancée out here because she wanted to see if this hound was real. She loves a good scare," Sherlock said, noticing the way Fletcher's eyes widened slightly as he said fiancée instead of girlfriend. "I was going to take her out on the moor at night to look for it but if can't prove you've seen it than it's probably just a fake…,' Sherlock said before Fletcher interrupted at him, smiling at Sherlock as he pointed at him.

"Slow down there mate, no need to be too hasty. I'm never one to disappoint a lady," Fletcher remarked as he threw a cheeky grin at Lexi who raised her eyebrow slightly which might have looked like a flirting gesture to anyone who didn't know that it was her first note of warning.

"Yeah?" Sherlock asked him, tensing slightly before Lexi nuzzled her head against his chest, calming him instantly.

"Yeah. I've seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind – couldn't make much out," Fletcher told them as he unlocked his mobile and started playing with it.

"I see. No witnesses, I suppose," Sherlock said looking away from Fletcher, playing the part of the disbeliever.

"No, but ...," Fletcher told him and Sherlock cut him off before he could finish.

"Never are," Sherlock quipped as he looked down at Lexi and kissed the top of her nose as she looked rather adorable as she looked up at him from the crock of his arm.

"Wait ...," Fletcher told him as Sherlock turned back to the boy who showed the both of them a photograph on his smart phone. "There," Fletcher said and Sherlock looked at the photograph with Lexi which showed a dark-furred four-legged something in the distance but, with no scale amongst the surrounding vegetation, it was impossible to tell the size or even the species of the animal. Sherlock snorted while Lexi's eyes widened in "surprise." She acted very well, especially in situations like this one.

"Is that it?" Lexi asked Fletcher sounding disappointed. "I mean, no offense, but that not exactly proof, is it?" Lexi told the boy and Sherlock smirked slightly.

"Ah well love, no horrors or mysteries here," Sherlock said as he picked up his stolen beer, Lexi picking up her glass as well as they made to get up and depart.

"Wait, wait. That's not all. People don't like going up there, you know – to the Hollow. Gives them a ... bad sort of feeling," Fletcher told them hurriedly and Sherlock and Lexi bother turned back to him, staying seated.

"Ooh! Is it haunted?! Is that supposed to convince us?" Sherlock scoffed as they both put their glasses down again.

"I was looking for a real scare, not some children's ghost story," Lexi told Fletcher and Sherlock was proud at how quickly she caught on to the fact that Fletcher was trying to impress her. Now that she was acting like she didn't believe him, he would try even harder to prove that he had seen the hound.

"Nah, don't be stupid, nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there – something from Baskerville, escaped," Fletcher told them and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"A clone, a super-dog?!" Sherlock asked him not really trying to hold back his sceptical snigger.

"Maybe. God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could spit," Fletcher said and Sherlock nodded to the photograph on the boy's phone.

"Is that the best you've got?" Sherlock asked him and he hesitated for a long moment which told Sherlock and Lexi that that wasn't all he had. The boy eventually spoke, seemingly reluctantly, lowering his voice.

"I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishin' but he never showed up – well, not 'til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. "I've seen things today, Fletch," he said, "that I never wanna see again. Terrible things." He'd been sent to some secret Army place – Porton Down, maybe; maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else," Fletcher told them and Lexi perked up, tilting her head to the side as he eyebrow raised slightly in thought. Fletcher leaned closer to the two of them before he continued as if he was afraid of someone overhearing them. "In the labs there – the really secret labs, he said he'd seen ... terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, and dogs ...," Fletcher said as he reached into his bag and pulled something out, showing it to them. "...dogs the size of horses," Fletcher finished as he held up a concrete cast of a dog's paw print, but the print was at least six inches long from the tip of the claws to the back of the pad. Sherlock stared at it in surprise as did Lexi before she quickly jumped up and grabbed her pint.

"Well love, looks like there's a hound after all," Lexi said excitedly before she tugged Sherlock into standing and he grabbed his pint of stolen beer.

"Thank you," Sherlock told Fletcher who nodded at him with a chuckle as he watched Lexi's feigned enthusiasm.

"Tell me one thing mate, how do you get a girl like that?" Fletcher called after him as Sherlock let Lexi tug him back towards the inn.

"You get very lucky," Sherlock called back to him before he stopped letting Lexi tug him and caught up with her as they walked into the pub to find John. Once away from Fletcher the two consulting detectives shared a look. It appeared that there might be more to this hound story than they originally thought.


	71. Access Granted

**Hello sweeties! Yes another chapter! Well I sort of have a surplus of them now so you get an extra one. I'll be headed off to Time Lord Fest tomorrow dressed as the 11th Doctor so pictures of that will be on Tumbler. Glad you all love Joanna! Thank you to Matt and John who bought me a replica of Sherlock's deer stalker or death Frisbee for my birthday! I love you two to bits! **

**Let's see, Willow Owl: Not sure how I do it but glad you like her and the story. **

**And for all of you the next update for A Different Sort of Goldfish should be on Monday. I'm working on a prompt for Windows Into Baker Street now which I hope to finish tonight and then the next chapter for this story is up on Tuesday. So Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixty Nine-<strong> **Access Granted**

**Lexi's POV**

After we had gotten our bags into our room and I changed into a pair of black and white pinstriped slacks, a light blue button down blouse with short sleeves, and I tied my hair back into a bun. We left the inn and headed over to Baskerville next. I had a plan, but to execute it I needed to look more official which was why I had added a pair of nice pearl earrings and a pearl necklace to my attire which had been gifted to me by Joanna and changed my boots to black flats. Baskerville was a military facility and thus it had a lot of security. I had managed to hack in it once and only once before they got smart and found a way to block me out. Getting in would have been a problem if not for Joanna who, now that she worked for Mycroft, could get around even him and she was more than willing to help us. Joanna seemed to like pissing Mycroft off just for the fun of it which was why she and Sherlock got on well enough. I sent out a text message to her to let her know that Project Epsilon was being initiated. She responded back in confirmation that she was ready and I nodded at Sherlock who was watching me in the rear view mirror as he was the one driving once again. As we approached the complex, Sherlock and I observed that there were very many military personnel guarding the place and walking the perimeter etc. Sherlock drove up to the gates and a military security guard holding a rifle raised a hand. As Sherlock stopped the jeep, the man walked around to the driver's window.

"Passes, please," The security guard asked us. That was the thing. They had tightened security recently. You needed two passes to get in. I believe that they thought that it was unlikely for two people to be granted access if they both didn't belong there. Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and handed him a pass as I took mine out of my coat pocket and handed it to the man who reached back to take it from me as I was sitting in the back seat still. "Thank you," The security guard told us and he walked away with our passed. At the front of the vehicle, another security man encouraged a sniffer dog to check the jeep, presumably for explosives.

"You two've got IDs for Baskerville. How?" John asked us quietly as I leaned forward between their seats.

"It's not specific to this place. It's my brother's. Accesses all areas. I, um ...," Sherlock told him quietly as he cleared his throat. "...acquired it ages ago, just in case," Sherlock finished as John looked round at me.

"Mycroft gave me an access card when I started working for him on some cases. It only had a certain level of clearance which kept me out of places like this, but now I've got Joanna working with Mycroft and she granted me access to all areas and changed anything that might keep me out of places like Baskerville," I told John who blinked back at me in surprise as I grinned and sat back in my seat.

The security guard swiped Sherlock's pass through a reader at the gate room. The screen showed a fairly small photograph of Mycroft and named the card holder as Mycroft Holmes, giving him Unlimited Access and showing his security status as 'Secure (No Threat)'. He then swiped my pass through and a small photograph of me showed up on the screen and named the cardholder as Alexandria MacKenna, giving me Unlimited Access and showing my security status as 'Secure (No Threat)' as well or at least now it did. It used to say 'Secure (Level Two Threat)' which would have kept me out. Mycroft had raised my threat level from one to two after my recent hacking activity. He forgot however that Joanna was given just as many privileges as him if not more. Mycroft's bosses wanted to keep Joanna happy since she was choosing to give her help to the British Government. What were privileges if you didn't take advantage of them on the rare occasion?

"Brilliant!" John said in exasperation as he sat back in his seat.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asked him quietly, looking round at him as I smirked.

"We'll get caught," John told us and I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He doubted my skills. I was nothing if not through with all of my plans.

"No we won't – well, not just yet," Sherlock said as he looked back at me and raised his eyebrow questioningly. I nodded at him in confirmation. Joanna was working her end of it so we were good for now.

"Caught in five minutes. "Oh, hi, we just thought we'd come and have a wander round your top secret weapons base." "Really? Great! Come in – kettle's just boiled." That's if we don't get shot," John said sarcastically as the gates began to slide open and the security guard came back over to the car.

"Well we will get caught John if you can't keep quiet," I hissed at the army doctor as the security guard walked back over and I gave John a pointed look to keep silent as Sherlock and I dealt with the rest of the exchange at the gates.

"Clear," The security dog handler said as the security guard handed me back my pass first.

"Thank you very much, sir, ma'am," The security guard said as he handed Sherlock back his pass.

"Thank you," Sherlock said and I nodded at the guard. Sherlock put the car in gear and eased the vehicle forward.

"Straight through, sir," The security guard told Sherlock who nodded at him as he drove forward.

"Mycroft's name literally opens doors and Lexi's does too!" John said in disbelief as he sat back in his seat and I shrugged slightly as Sherlock answered him.

"I've told you – he practically is the British government and Lexi can open virtually any door she wants to. I reckon we've got about twenty minutes before they realise something's wrong," Sherlock said as we drove down the road, deeper into the compound.

"Joanna can get us twenty-three minutes but no more than that. She's going to reroute them to give us more time, but she only has so long before Mycroft finds out what she's doing," I told Sherlock as I looked up from the text she had just sent me.

Sending people on a snipe hunt was one of Joanna's specialities. She could only reroute them for so long before they were able to get through her set up though. Three minutes was plenty of time for us though. Sherlock drove up to the main complex at Baskerville, parked the car, and then the three of us got out of the care. Another soldier led us through the barriers and towards an entrance to the main building. As we walked, Sherlock and I looked around at all the military men patrolling the area, many of them armed. Even the scientists in lab coats were being escorted. I stayed next to Sherlock's side, but we kept a decent distance apart from each other. We had to look professional, like we belonged here. I was, for the moment, Alexandria not Lexi. My time working on Bond Air and working with many government officials made it easy for me to slip into a more business-like role. I had gotten used to ordering around people too when I was working under Mycroft. That was one of the advantages of being a friend of the British Government and being called in personally for the project as someone as important as Joanna. They treated me like I was just as important as the both of them. As we approached the entrance, a military jeep pulled up and a young corporal got out, obviously having been sent to meet us.

"What is it? Are we in trouble?" The man asked us and I raised my eyebrow at him, my hands clasped behind my back and my mouth drawn into a hard line. I gave him the look that scared many of Mycroft's underlings. It worked too.

"Are we in trouble, sir," Sherlock corrected him sternly.

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," The young man apologized but he nevertheless stepped in front of us and held out his hands to prevent us from getting nearer to the entrance.

"You were expecting us?" Sherlock asked the young man who nodded in confirmation.

"Your IDs showed up straight away, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna. Corporal Lyons, security. Is there something wrong, sir, ma'am," Corporal Lyons asked us, looking at me and I tilted my head to the side as I regarded him, narrowing my eyes slightly to keep him on edge.

"Well, we hope not, Corporal, we hope not," Sherlock told him quickly, speaking for me as well and playing his role perfectly.

"It's just we don't get inspected here, you see, sir, ma'am. It just doesn't happen," Lyons told us and John stepped in then, apparently wanting to get in on the fun.

"Ever heard of a spot check?" John asked the Corporal as he took a small wallet from his pocket and showed the ID inside to the Corporal. "Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," John told him and even before he finished speaking, the Corporal came to attention and saluted. John crisply returned the salute.

"Sir. Major Barrymore won't be pleased, sir. He'll want to see you three," Lyons told us and I nodded at him stiffly.

"I'm afraid we won't have time for that. We'll need the full tour right away. Carry on," John ordered him and the Corporal hesitated. "That's an order, Corporal," John said instantly and the man nodded.

"Yes, sir," Lyons told us and I decided to scare him just a bit more. Scared meant smart and right now we couldn't afford for him to be anything else.

"Alexandria MacKenna and I'll take a salute too," I told the boy and he looked at me for a moment before he stood to attention and saluted me as well. "Nice, now as Captain Watson said, do carry on and be quick about it," I told Lyons and he nodded before he spun around and walked towards the entrance. Sherlock glanced across to John with a proud smile on his face as we followed the Corporal. He smirked at me next and I smacked him on the arm when no one was looking. I would no doubt be hearing something about that later. At the entrance, which was marked "AUTOMATIC SECURITY DOOR", Lyons swiped his pass through a reader, then waited for Sherlock and me to walk over and do the same with our own passes. The message "ACCESS GRANTED" appeared on the reader. Lyons then pressed a button and the locks on the door disengaged. Sherlock checked his watch.

**Third Person POV**

Elsewhere, a long way from Baskerville, a message flashed up on a screen:

**CCV1 • security authorization requested •**

**holmes, mycroft • priority ultra**

**processing CCV1 •**

**5555*0000*x1 /5894**

**mackenna, alexandria• priority ultra**

**processing CCV1 •**

**5555*0000*x1 /5879**

The security request began to process.

**Lexi's POV**

Back at Baskerville, the door swung open and Lyons led us inside, taking off his beret as he walked. He led us towards the next security door, and the boys talked quietly beside me as we walked.

"Nice touch," Sherlock told John with a smirk.

"Haven't pulled rank in ages," John told Sherlock and I chuckled quietly.

"Enjoying it?" Sherlock asked John as we both threw the army doctor a knowing look. John couldn't deny that he didn't like this, this sneaking in and acting like we were some big time government officials.

"Oh yeah," John told us and I shook my head slightly as we reached the second door.

Lyons swiped his pass and then stepped aside for Sherlock and me to do likewise. As we did so and another "ACCESS GRANTED" message appeared, the authorization request was sent out again. Back in an office in London, Joanna smirked as she shook her head and typed in lines of code into her computer that would keep the authorization request floating around for a bit. The doors slide open back at Baskerville and revealed an elevator on the other side. Lyons led us inside and Sherlock and I looked at the wall panel. The lift, now on the ground floor, only went downwards to five floors marked -1, -2, -3, -4 and B. Lyons pressed the -1 button and the doors closed, opening shortly afterwards on the next floor down. Lyons led the three of us out into a brightly lit and white tiled laboratory. As we walked forward, various scientific staff dressed either in white coveralls including full breathing masks, or in lab coats and face masks walked around the lab. There were large cages to the right of the lift and as Lyons led the way past them, a monkey screamed and hurled itself at the bars towards us. Sherlock spun on his heel as he passed the cage, looking at the monkey and the chain around its neck while I kept my eyes trained forwards as if I wasn't even interested in them.

"How many animals do you keep down here?" Sherlock asked Lyons who looked back at him from over his shoulder. I swept my eyes around the lab, looking closely at what the scientist were doing rather than at the scientist themselves.

"Lots, sir," Lyons answered him. At the far end of the lab, a scientist wearing coveralls and a breathing mask came out of another room and took his mask off. Another scientist walked across the lab with a beagle on a lead. I watched them closely as did Sherlock, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Any ever escape?" Sherlock asked Lyons curiously. It was a very good question, but I doubt they would actually tell us if any had. That sort of seemed like the thing you wouldn't want higher ups to know.

"They'd have to know how to use that lift, sir," Lyons told him, pointing back to the lift we had used. "We're not breeding them that clever," Lyons said, no doubt joking as I pursed my lips. They might not be breeding them that clever, but animals learned. There were species of cats that could learn to open doors.

"Unless they have help," I said pointedly as Sherlock and I shared a sidelong glance at each other. The man who just took his mask off came over to the four of us.

"Ah, and you are?" The scientist asked us as I raised my eyebrow at him and tilted my head to the side as I regarded him. I decided that I didn't like him, but I wasn't sure why or what I found off about him. I just knew that there was something about him that I didn't like.

"Sorry, Doctor Frankland. I'm just showing these gentlemen and this lady around," Lyons told the scientist as Sherlock caught my eye and we shared a look. I nodded at him as he caught on to my dislike of the man by the small bit of tension in my shoulders.

"Ah, new faces, huh? Nice. Careful you don't get stuck here, though. I only came to fix a tap!" Doctor Frankland said as he smiled at us. John chuckled politely as Frankland walked towards the lift but I stayed clear of him, turning my head slightly as I watched him. John turned to Lyons next as I shared a look with Sherlock, pointedly moving my gaze down to his watch and then back up to his face to remind him that we were short on time.

"How far down does that lift go?" John asked Lyons as Sherlock and I paid only a bit of attention to them.

"Quite a way, sir," Lyons answered him and I knew from the little bit I had found out before that it would have too. They housed many secrets here at Baskerville.

"Mmm-hmm. And what's down there?" John asked Lyons who redirected his question by answering him with a joke which I didn't miss.

"Well, we have to keep the bins somewhere, sir. This way please, gentlemen, ma'am," Lyons told us and Sherlock and I watched Frankland as he reached the elevator. Frankland in turn looked around to gaze with interest at us. While Lyons led John away, Sherlock and I walked backwards for a couple of paces before we turned to follow.

"So what exactly is it that you do here?" John asked Lyons and I looked round at him pointedly trying to give him a look that said shut up. If we were here for an inspection, we should know what we were inspecting in the first place.

"I thought you'd know, sir, this being an inspection," Lyons said, voicing my thoughts. Sherlock was looking at the various scientists around the room, a couple looking at a rat in a glass cage, another one doing something to the leg of a monkey on a leash which was sitting on a metal table. Nearby, another scientist picked up what looks ominously like a glass container of serum if I had to guess.

"Well, I'm not an expert, am I?" John said and I stepped forward and smiled at Lyons tightly.

"Lucky for you I am. Here at Baskerville they conduct everything from stem cell research to trying to find a cure for the common cold Captain Watson," I said, giving John a side long look and Lyons nodded in confirmation. I knew that the little titbits of information I had collected on Baskerville would come in handy someday.

"But mostly weaponry?" John asked Lyons after he nodded at me. Sherlock looked to me and raised his eyebrow slightly as I silently told him that I would fill him in on anything I knew about Baskerville later. This wasn't the time.

"Of one sort or another, yes," Lyons said as he swiped his card through the reader of the door at the end of the lab, then stepped aside for Sherlock and me to do likewise.

"Biological, chemical...?" John asked and I answered him with a small nod.

"Both actually," I told John, looking side long at Sherlock who looked slightly surprised by this knowledge. Now he could see why Mycroft didn't want me anywhere close to a place like this. There was enough information and dangerous experiments locked up here at Baskerville that, should anyone want to do any real damage, they could. Mycroft didn't think I would hurt people no, he believed that my curiosity would wind up with me hurting myself.

"One war ends, another begins, sir, ma'am. New enemies to fight. We have to be prepared," Lyons told us. As the door released, Sherlock checked his watch.

**Third Person POV**

The security authorisation message was sent out again, the message changing slightly:

**CCV1 • security authorization /5894**

**• query • query • query**

**CCV1 • 5555*0000*x1**

**CCV1 • security authorization /5879**

**• query • query • query**

**CCV1 • 5555*0000*x1**

**Lexi's POV**

Lyons led the three of us through the doors and into another lab where a monkey stood up on its back legs with one hand high in the air and shrieked before sitting down again on a high metal table. A female scientist looked at it and then turned to her colleague.

"Okay, Michael, let's try Harlow Three next time," She told her colleague. As she walked away from the table, Lyons approached her.

"Doctor Stapleton," Lyons said and my eyebrows shot up to my hairline as I looked over at Sherlock to see if he had also gotten the reference.

"Stapleton," Sherlock told me thoughtfully and I made a little gesture with my head.

"Yes?" Dr. Stapleton asked as she looked at Sherlock, John, and me. "Who's this?" She asked Lyons, raising her eyebrow slightly as I gave her a once over like she was giving me.

"Priority Ultras, ma'am. Orders from on high. An inspection," Lyons told her and she looked just as shocked as everyone else had over our "inspection." A place like this though, you would expect that someone would be checking to make sure that things were running as they should be and some people weren't doing what they shouldn't be. With the amount of weaponry here it would be bad news for the person namely Mycroft that the blame would fall to if something were to happen here that was unethical.

"Really?" Dr. Stapleton asked us in disbelief as Sherlock gave her a curt nod.

"We're to be accorded every courtesy, Doctor Stapleton. What's your role at Baskerville?" Sherlock asked her and she looked at him and snorted with disbelieving laughter. I gave her a hard look which she flinched under. Ah, wrong move, never once show that flinch. Flinch once and people knew that they could scare you.

"Er, accorded every courtesy, isn't that the idea?" John asked Dr. Stapleton, a warning in his tone.

"I'm not free to say. Official secrets," Dr. Stapleton said, thinking she was being smart and Sherlock and I both smiled at her.

"Oh, you most certainly are free...," Sherlock said and his smile faded as his voice became ominous "  
>"... and I suggest you remain that way," Sherlock warned her, just a hint of danger in his tone that said not to mess with us. She looked at him for a moment before she flicked her gaze over to me and I raised my eyebrow slightly. It was enough to make her change her mind and start talking.<p>

"I have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. I like to mix things up – genes, mostly; now and again actual fingers," Dr. Stapleton told us and Sherlock started to reach into his pocket before she finished the sentence, picking up on the word 'genes' like I had which just confirmed our initial theory.

"Stapleton. I knew we knew your name," Sherlock told her as he gestured to me with a nod of his head.

"I doubt it," Dr. Stapleton told us and I shrugged at her.

"You would be surprised. There's not much that goes on these days that we don't know about," I told her, using my old line which scared her just a little bit.

"People say there's no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead," Sherlock said as he held up his notebook to her on which he had written a single large word: "BLUEBELL". She stared at it in amazement while Sherlock and I watched her face closely.

"Have you two been talking to my daughter?" Dr. Stapleton asked us, sounding slightly shocked, scared, and just a tad bit angry, but then again, a mother would be.

"Why did Bluebell have to die, Doctor Stapleton?" Sherlock asked her as he put his notebook away.

"The rabbit?" John asked us, bewildered.

"Disappeared from inside a locked hutch, which was always suggestive," Sherlock said to Stapleton, ignoring John as she stares at us blankly.

"The rabbit?" John asked us again in exasperation.

"It was always quite clearly an inside job," I added and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Oh, you reckon?" Stapleton scoffed as she sneered at me slightly.

"Why? Because it glowed in the dark," Sherlock told her and he loudly clicked the 'k' on the last word.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Who are you two?" Stapleton asked us and I looked up at Sherlock who I could tell had been keeping a mental note of the time and he now checked his watch again.

**Third Person POV**

Out in the security system somewhere, the authorization request changed as Joanna did everything she could to stop it from going through, they were getting smart though:

**CCV1 • security authorization**

**•• alert •• alert ••**

**potential level 5 security breach**

**5555*0000*x1 /5894**

**CCV1 • security authorization**

**•• alert •• alert ••**

**potential level 5 security breach**

**5555*0000*x1 /5879**

Someone looking at the screen in London, having just picked up on the alert, picked up the phone and lifted the handset to their ear.

**Lexi's POV**

At Baskerville, Sherlock lowered his hand and turned to Lyons.

"Well, I think we've seen enough for now, Corporal. Thank you so much," Sherlock told him, silently telling me that we had to head out of there now. I nodded slightly, agreeing both with what he was saying and what he was not saying.

"That's it?" Lyons asked us in surprise.

"That's it," Sherlock told him as the both of us turned and headed briskly back towards the door, John following behind us and Lyons trailing after us. "It's this way, isn't it?" Sherlock asked as he pointed towards the door.

"Just a minute!" Stapleton called after us but we ignored her and just kept walking. John caught up to us and spoke quietly so that Lyons couldn't overhear him. His tone suggested that he was not pleased with either of us.

"Did we just break into a military base to investigate a rabbit?" John demanded of us as Sherlock and I reached the door and swiped our cards before waiting for Lyons to catch up to us and do the same with his own card.

**Third Person POV**

In Whitehall, the telephone began to ring as a chain of calls relayed the potential security breach and the message went out, Joanna unable to do anything to stop it:

**• URGENT • URGENT • URGENT •**

**refer holmes, mycroft**

Sitting in the Diogenes Club with a cup of coffee on the table beside him, Mycroft took out his phone when it trilled quietly. Looking at the message, he rolled his eyes in exasperation, gazed off into space with a "Good God – what now?!" look on his face for a moment, and then he began to text.

**Lexi's POV**

At Baskerville, Sherlock and I walked swiftly through the security doors and headed for the lift as Sherlock's phone trilled a text alert. He took out his phone without stopping and read the message, flashing the screen at me quickly so that I could read it too:

**_What are you two doing?_**

**_M_**

"Twenty-three minutes. Mycroft's getting slow," Sherlock said, laughing sarcastically.

"And Joanna is getting faster," I added as we reached the lift doors and swiped our cards before Lyons did likewise. The doors opened revealing Doctor Frankland who was standing inside as if he had been waiting in there. Trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably, he smiled at us.

"Hello ... again," Frankland told us and Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him before we walked into the lift with the others. Very shortly afterwards, one floor up, the doors opened again and revealed a bearded man in military uniform waiting for us. He did not look happy and I got ready to deal with him, slightly glad of the training I had from working on a secret government project.

"Er, um, Major ...," Lyons said before the Major cut him off.

"This is bloody outrageous. Why wasn't I told?" The Major asked Lyons, obviously angry.

"Major Barrymore, is it?" John asked as he stepped out of the lift towards him. "Yes, well, good. Very good," John said as he offered him his hand to shake. "We're very impressed, aren't we, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna?" John asked as he looked round at us. Barrymore refused to take John's hand and Sherlock's phone sounded another text alert. He reached into his pocket for it again as my phone also went off and I pulled it from the interior of my coat.

"Deeply; hugely," Sherlock said as we walked past Barrymore, the both of us looking down at our texts before quickly showing each other. Sherlock's message read:

**_What's going on Sherlock?_**

**_M_**

Mine on the other hand read:

**_Alexandria, I insist upon you telling me what you are doing._**

**_M_**

The Major followed along behind the three of us while Sherlock and I hurried towards the exit door.

"The whole point of Baskerville was to eliminate this kind of bureaucratic nonsense ...," Barrymore said and Sherlock cut him off quickly.

"I'm so sorry, Major," Sherlock told him, acting like he understood how the Major felt and that he didn't like it any more than he did.

"Inspections?!" Barrymore asked us in exasperation and outrage.

"New policy. Can't remain unmonitored forever. Goodness knows what you'd get up to," Sherlock told him before he spoke lowly and urgently to John. "Keep walking."

Lyons had briefly ducked into a side room but now he hurried out again. "Sir!" He shouted and he slapped an alarm button on the wall. Alarms started to blare, red lights flashed, and the automated security door locked itself. We all turned back to him quickly. "IDs unauthorised, sir," Lyons told the Major as he threw Sherlock and I a look.

"What?" Barrymore asked him in confusion.

"I've just had the call," Lyons told him and I sighed slightly. Here came the fun part. Three witness, take them out, call Joanna, get her to hack and lift the security breech. It might take some time which meant I needed to come up with a backup plan because they're would most likely be guards outside the door by the time she finished. Nope, I had nothing, we were fucked.

"Is that right?" Barrymore asked as he turned to the three of us. "Who are you?" Barrymore demanded as I tried to think of an adequate response. I could always say Lady Liberty, practically everyone had heard about her but no one knew who she really was.

"Look, there's obviously been some kind of mistake," John said, trying to stall as he looked at Sherlock and me and gestured with his eyes for one of us to do something. A little further back, Frankland was slowly walking towards us, looking thoughtful. Barrymore held out his hand for Sherlock and my ID cards, which we gave to him. He looked Sherlock's card and then up at him.)

"Clearly not Mycroft Holmes," Major Barrymore said before he checked mine. "Yet you are clearly Alexandria MacKenna

"Computer error, Major. It'll all have to go in the report," John said, getting out a notebook and starting to write.

"What the hell's going on?!" Major Barrymore demanded before Dr. Frankland stepped in.

"It's all right, Major. I know exactly who these gentlemen and this lady are," Frankland told him and the Major turned round to him.

"You do?" Barrymore asked him, not sounding like he believed him for one second.

"Yeah. I'm getting a little slow on faces but Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna here aren't people I expected to show up in this place," Frankland said as I narrowed my eyes slightly at him as I tried to guess his motive behind so obviously lying to Barrymore.

"Ah, well ...," Sherlock said before Frankland cut him off.

"Good to see you again, Mycroft," Dr. Frankland said, offering him his hand to shake. John tried to mask his surprise which I was happy to see that he did quite well. Smiling falsely, Sherlock shook Frankland's hand before the man offered it to me. "And Ms. MacKenna, you look as lovely as the last time I saw you," Frankland said and I nodded at him, smiling at him falsely as well as I shook his hand. "I had the honour of meeting Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna at the W.H.O. conference in ...," Frankland said before he pretended to think. "... Brussels, was it?" He asked us and I shook my head, Sherlock catching on.

"Vienna," Sherlock corrected him and I nodded slightly. Best way to lie, when someone suggests something, correct them. It makes it seem like you knew all along and adds belief to the lie.

"Vienna, that's it," Frankland said and he looked round at Barrymore. "This is Mr. Mycroft Holmes, Major. There's obviously been a mistake, especially with Ms. Alexandria MacKenna's," Frankland told the Major, nodding at me as he said my name. I heard just a slight hesitance in his voice as he went to say my name as if he was going to call me something else first and then corrected himself. Barrymore turned and nodded to Lyons, who went back to the alarm switch and turned it off. The lights stopped flashing and the alarm fell silent. A moment later the entrance door's lock disengaged noisily.

"On your head be it, Doctor Frankland," Barrymore told Frankland, turning back to him.

"I'll show them out, Corporal," Frankland said, laughing as he looked at the approaching Corporal Lyons.

"Very well, sir," Lyons told him and I nodded at the young man once and he nodded back at me. Sherlock spun on his heel and walked towards the now open entrance door and I turned and followed him out. John and Frankland follow us while Barrymore glared after the three of us unhappily. As we walked outside John grimaced anxiously with an "Oh gods, I really hope we're going to get away with this!" expression on his face. Frankland trotted after us.

"Thank you," Sherlock told him as he reached for my hand and I slipped it into his before Sherlock laced our fingers together.

"This is about Henry Knight, isn't it?" Frankland asked us and besides my eyebrow rising slightly we didn't answer him. He took our silence as agreement apparently. "I thought so. I knew he wanted help but I didn't realise he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna!" Frankland said, sounding excited and Sherlock and I both grimaced. We should have seen this coming. Now I understood why he hesitated when he said my name. John called me Lexi on his blog and only mentioned me as Alexandria occasionally. "Oh, don't worry. I know who you three really are. I'm never off your websites. Thought you'd be wearing the hats, though."

"They weren't our hats," Sherlock told Dr. Frankland as the doctor looked round at John.

"I hardly recognise them without the hats!" Dr. Frankland told the army doctor who tried unsuccessfully to bite back a smile.

"They weren't our hats," Sherlock repeated tetchily, sounding the 's' loudly

"I love the blog too, Doctor Watson," Frankland continued on as Sherlock gave me a side line look of exasperation.

"Oh, cheers!" John told him happily.

"The, er, the Pink thing ...," Dr. Frankland said and John hummed in agreement. "...and that one about the aluminium crutch!" Dr. Frankland said and I couldn't help but laugh at that. It seemed like that case was everyone's favourite and possibly because it was the first mention of Sherlock and I together and people kept going back to it now to analyse everything Sherlock had said.

"Yes," John said, nodding once.

"You know Henry Knight?" Sherlock asked Dr. Frankland as we stopped and turned back to him.

"Well, I knew his dad better. He had all sorts of mad theories about this place. Still, he was a good friend," Dr. Frankland said before he looked back the way we came and saw that Major Barrymore was standing some distance away, watching us. He turned back to Sherlock and me speaking quickly. "Listen, I can't really talk now," He told us and he took a card from his coat pocket and hands it to Sherlock. "Here's my, er, cell number. If I could help with Henry, give me a call."

"I never did ask, Doctor Frankland. What exactly is it that you do here?" Sherlock asked the doctor while I nod in agreement. He didn't seem like your typical scientist.

"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you – but then, of course, I'd have to kill you!" Frankland joked, laughing cheerfully.

"That would be tremendously ambitious of you," Sherlock told him with a straight face.

"And you would be very stupid to try," I deadpanned and Frankland's smile faded and he shrugged in embarrassment.

"Tell us about Doctor Stapleton," Sherlock ordered him.

"Never speak ill of a colleague," Frankland told us quickly.

"Yet you'd speak well of one, which you're clearly omitting to do," Sherlock told him, catching on to what I had.

"I do seem to be, don't I?" Dr. Frankland asked us with a shrug.

"We'll be in touch," Sherlock told him, raising the card that Frankland just gave him.

"Any time," Frankland told us and the three of us walked away from him and head towards our Land Rover.

"So?" John asked us once we were out of earshot.

"So?" I asked John as I raised one of my eyebrows at him and he looked back at me in exasperation.

"What was all that about the rabbit?" John asked us and Sherlock smiled briefly, letting go of my hand before he pulled his coat tighter around him, flipping the collar up just as we reached the car. John rolled his eyes and turned to him as I smiled at him fondly. "Oh, please, can we not do this, this time?" John asked Sherlock who looked at him in confusion.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked him, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool," John told him and as he turned to go to the car door, Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but was apparently so disconcerted that for a moment he couldn't find the words.

"... I don't do that," Sherlock told him as I opened my car door.

"Yeah you do," John told him and I giggled, pressing a kiss to the still bewildered Sherlock's cheek before I got into the back seat and closed the door behind me. The boys got into the car with me and we headed out of the Baskerville compound and I smiled smugly to myself as we left through the front gates. And they said it couldn't be done. Apparently, their security wasn't nearly as good as they thought. Catch me doing that again though.


	72. Devil's Hallow

**Wow, so this is actually my shortest case. Baskerville is the only one I didn't add a lot to or change a lot of the plot of. Chapter seven of Basker illegal is my favourite though. You'll know it when you see it. Working on all the one shots. For those of you who haven't picked up Joanna's story A Different Sort of Goldfish y et, I will let you know that it is the only way you will know important plot elements later on I try to keep secret from the main story and have you work out. So it is important to read it. Without anything more, Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy- Devil's Hallow<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

We set off from Baskerville to go to the inn for the night. Now that we knew more about what was going on inside the compound it was time to figure out a plan and set it into action. I used the term plan very loosely in this case as it would most likely be a thing. There wasn't much we could do at this point without seeing the hound for ourselves. We would meet with Henry in the morning and get things worked out. Whatever was going on here, things weren't the way them seemed. The fact that people theorized what was going on in Baskerville led to mass hysteria. See a hound of unmentionable size and the first thing you thought of was that it had to be a genetic experiment that got lose. I wasn't buying it though. There was more going on here than just that, but that begged the question of what did Henry actually see? He was convinced that he saw this hound, but anything could be set up to make you believe that it's true. Sherlock was driving us across the moors and I frowned as I watched the scenery pass by us. Who would want to make Henry think he had seen a monstrous hound and what could they gain from it?

"So, the email from Kirsty – the, er, missing luminous rabbit," John started and I turned away from the window to look at him. Ah yes, the coincidence of Bluebell. On the surface it wasn't all that worrying. A glow in the dark rabbit wasn't truly terrifying, but the fact that it did glow was. It showed that Dr. Stapleton was doing her own experiments outside of Baskerville. If one scientist could perform and experiment under the table than another could and then another.

"Kirsty Stapleton, whose mother specialises in genetic manipulation," Sherlock told John as he flicked his gaze to me in the rear view mirror. I knew he was thinking the same thing that I was. Most of the scientists at Baskerville worked with genetics so if not Dr. Stapleton than another scientist could have done their own experiment on something a lot larger than a rabbit.

"She made her daughter's rabbit glow in the dark," John said and I nodded, taking a deep breath. The thing was, a genetic experiment didn't make sense. Sure, it could possibly be done, but even cloned animals had a shorter life span. A hound of that size, one that had its genes messed with, I would expect for it to have some sort of enlarged heart or something about it that could be considered a disability. Henry saw it as a child so unless it was the same hound which I highly doubted than it would mean that this things was pretty old. Dogs only lived so long, it would be quithe old now unless there was another hound out there or it breed with something. The more you thought about it, the more impossible it seemed for it to be an actual animal.

"Yes and if anyone other than Kirsty were to see it, people would have found out that her mother was doing unauthorized experiments which is why she did it on her daughter's pet rabbit outside of Baskerville. Bluebell had to go and lucky enough for Dr. Stapleton anyone Kirsty might have told about it wouldn't have believed her. In fact, Sherlock and I didn't at first because we thought she was just a child with an overactive imagination," I told John who nodded at me. Sherlock and I had discussed Kirsty's email before coming to the conclusion that it was probably just a child's imagination. It didn't seem possible for the rabbit to have actually glowed until you add in the information that her mother was a geneticist. This was why it was best not to come to a conclusion until you had all of the facts.

"Probably a fluorescent gene removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough these day," Sherlock said and I hummed in agreement. As technology advanced so did our ability to play God. You had to think, if nature intended something to be a certain way, why were we messing with the order of things? What good could ever come from it? Sure a glow in the dark rabbit was novel, but what was the point of it?

"So ...," John said and he looked across to Sherlock and waited for him to continue the sentence.

"So we know that Doctor Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. The question is: has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit?" Sherlock asked us and I gave John a pointed look.

"And if not her who's also doing secret experiments that they shouldn't be?" I added and John looked round at me when I said that.

"To be fair, that is quite a wide field," John pointed out and I nodded at him in agreement as Sherlock looked round at John in startled surprise, realizing that it was true.

"Which begs the question, are they trying to keep people out or trying to keep things in?" I asked the boys before I sat back and looked out on the moors again. The more we found out about Baskerville, the easier it was to understand why people disliked it and why it had such a long history.

After we had dinner together in the pub, John went upstairs to turn in early, thankful that we had managed to get a cot for the room. Sherlock and I had been sharing a bed since the end of the Irene case so neither of us were worried about doing it here. John on the other hand would have been mildly uncomfortable if we all had to kip in the same bed. Sherlock and I sat together in one of the chairs by the fire and I cuddled up to his chest. I caught Gary looking over at us a few times, pointing us out to his husband Billy and he seemed to understand now that John wasn't gay. I knew he would be thankful for that. I snuggled against Sherlock's shoulder sleepily and I breathed against the skin of his neck as he rubbed circles onto my back and played with my hair. It was moments like this that I could get used to. Sherlock moved slightly and I looked up at him and he pressed a kiss to my forehead as I sat back slightly so that I could look at him.

"So what is the plan?" I asked Sherlock and he played with my hair as I sighed in contentment.

"Bring Henry out to the moors at night and see if anything attacks him," Sherlock told me and I moved to look at him, raising my eyebrow questioningly. That sounded like a terrible plan and one that would probably scar Henry for life more than he already was.

"And you think that will help how?" I questioned Sherlock and he sighed and let go of my hair as I moved so that it was easier for us to look at one another. Sure, we only had so much time to figure out the case, we couldn't stay in Dartmoor forever, but traumatizing our client didn't seem like a way to go about solving the case.

"If there is a monster out there which I highly doubt then the only thing to do is find out where it lives and if it even exists. Henry is one of the only ones to have actually seen it so bringing him out to the moor should make things come to a head," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him slowly in agreement.

"And if not, by replicating going out onto the moor at night like when his father died, Henry might start to remember more about that night," I nodded in agreement and I sighed heavily. "It's not, well it isn't perfect, but you're right. It seems to be the only logical move we can make at this point," I told Sherlock and he grinned at me smugly.

"I'm always right," He told me and I laughed as I leaned in and kissed him before pulling back.

"And you have a rather large ego," I told Sherlock shaking my head as I pulled myself from his lap and stood up. I was surprised that he sat with me for so long in the pub. Granted there were very few people still in the pub since it was late, but Sherlock wasn't really comfortable with displaying emotion in public or at least he never used to be. Since everything with Irene and we got back together, Sherlock showed more emotion in public, but only towards me. It was almost like he was trying to make up for all those months that we were apart from each other and when I asked him about it once he said that he wanted everyone to know that I was his. That was why we didn't hide the fact that we were together anymore, in fact we were rather open about it. Mycroft pitched a fit when he found out we were together, but Joanna stamped that out before it could ever begin. After meeting Sherlock and finding out that it had all been a misunderstanding, Joanna called us but idiots and warmed up to Sherlock greatly. Sherlock liked her though he claimed she was Hell in a pint sized package. It was sort of an accurate description. Joanna had always been a bit wild but she was fiercely loyal and she would fight to the death to protect the people she loved. "Come on," I told Sherlock as I held out my hand for him and he took it before standing. We headed back to our room and changed quietly so as not to wake John who was already asleep. I curled up against Sherlock who sighed in what sounded like contentment when I put my head under his chin and my arm slipped over his waist. It didn't take long for the both of us to fall asleep. Sleep came easier these days because it was hard not to sleep when you felt so safe and were in the arms of the one you loved.

The next morning we got up rather late as it was almost the afternoon. John was gone already and had left a note to let us know that he would be down in the pub when we woke up. Sherlock got up and got ready in the bathroom first while I snuggled down into the blankets and when he came back out he managed to convince me to leave the warm cocoon of blankets. I showered quickly and changed into a pair of jeans and a hunter green jumper. I dried my hair as much as I could and left it down since Sherlock liked playing with my hair. Once I got my boots on and Sherlock helped me into my coat and draped my scarf over my neck for me to tie later we headed downstairs and met up with our army doctor. Sherlock and I shared a light breakfast of some toast and eggs before the three of us got back into the car to head over to Henry's. I had my case bag packed up again and I pulled my mobile out of it and sent Joanna a text to thank her for her help the day before. I noticed I had missed a text from her which said simply that Mycrfot was the oddest man she had ever met in her life but that she thought she was starting to like him. I blinked a bit in shock as that was certainly a new development. Last I heard from Anthea all they did was fight all the time. I smirked to myself as I put my mobile back in my case back. Hmm maybe Joanie could win Mycroft over. They would make a rather good had a lot in common and Joanna was possibly the only woman who would understand all of what was required of Mycroft. Any normal woman wouldn't understand why he needed to work such long hours, sometimes on the weekends or the holidays and Joanie worked the same hours as an advisor of sorts to the government. I could see it working well for them and Mycroft deserved to have someone who could understand him. When we got to Henry's house and got out of the car, my suspicions back at the flat were confirmed. His home was enormous – a four-storey stone building that was probably a very important property in the area in the past. A large old-fashioned glass conservatory was attached to the rear of the building on the ground floor and a modern two-storey glass extension had been built onto the side of the house to join it to another two-storey stone building nearby.

The way Henry acted along with how he dressed had suggested to me that he had money. Not only that, but the way people talked about him suggested that the Knight family was pretty well known in these parts. Small villages like this always had the one rich family. Take Westport where I grew up for example. While we lived a little ways from the city, everyone knew the name MacKenna there. No wonder the TV people had taken Henry seriously. He had money, they would listen to anything he said if it meant getting a nice sum of cash and the locals loved him because he help tourism in the area which help their business. He could say he saw a dragon in a tutu and monocle and people would still make like they believed him to his face. Again though, mass hysteria. Henry was the first to see the hound and now Fletcher said he had and probably a few others. It was always the ones who believed Henry that saw it or believed for themselves that something could have escaped from Baskerville

One psychological experiment that I knew about worked with the powers of suggestion. One person sees something and your brain tricks you into seeing it too because as humans our need to be accepted and feel like part of a group must be satisfied. Or in some cases, our survival instinct kicks in if the thing we are supposed to be seeing is considered dangerous. I had seen the experiment conducted on strangers with a snake before. One person started telling people they saw a snake in a tree when nothing was actually there and others swore they saw a snake as well and ever carried on with it to say they saw it moving. Every person the test was run on said that they saw a snake in the tree when nothing was there. The hound was the same thing or at least it could be the same thing. That's not to say that Henry didn't see something, but it was dark and night time and the moors could be a scary place. Maybe his imagination went a bit wild and to cope with seeing his father being killed by something else, his brain created the hound as I mechanism to protect him. That still didn't explain everything that was going on though. The three of was walked into the conservatory, which looked very run-down and clearly hadn't had a paint job in years, and walked across to the door on the opposite side. Sherlock rang the doorbell and we waited for a few moments before Henry opened the door.

"Hi," Henry greeted us and I nodded at him briskly.

"Hi," John responded as I offered up a polite hello, Sherlock's hand slipping into mine.

"Come in, come in," Henry told us as he stepped back and held the door open for us. Sherlock and I walked in and headed down the hallway after wiping our feet on the doormat. We poked around a bit which we were known to do. It came with being detectives, you never could not be just a bit nosy. John followed more slowly and I looked back to see him stopping to look into a large high-ceilinged sitting room before he followed Henry again.

"This is, uh ... Are you, um ...," John said, pausing as he searched for the right word for a moment before finding it. "... rich?" John finished and Henry took a brief look around the room.

"Yeah," He answered John who nodded once as he took a slight breath in.

"Right," John said and I looked back at him and shook my head.

"Tact John, you've seen where I grew up," I pointed out as Henry led us off again. Sherlock threw a look at John as we started following Henry.

"You grew up in a bloody castle," John shot back as he followed behind us and I rolled my eyes and smirked at Sherlock who looked equally amused.

"And that means nothing. I still work just like you do," I reminded John and he looked like he was about to say something else but shook his head as he thought better about it.

I knew that John hadn't come from much money. He joined the army as a way to pay for him to get through med school. His mother spent money while he was growing up but never on him and never on Harry. In fact John had once told me that he had worked jobs and even lied about his age at times just so he could work to make enough money to put bread and milk on the table. Harry was always off drinking with her friends so it was mostly just him all the time but if he didn't work and go to school, he didn't eat. John was neglected as a child. I knew that. I knew that was why it had been so hard for him to see the way my father treated me. John was the person he was today because of his childhood. He was fiercely loyal and he was also the best friend anyone could have. Any bit of luxury surprised John now due to the way he grew up, like the fact that I did indeed grow up in a castle. Yes, I didn't have to worry about money so much now because of my inheritance from Alistair, but I still worked as a detective and I still had to make money all those years. Sherlock, I had found out about him of course. The Holmes family was quite wealthy. Sherlock didn't need flatmates but Mrs. Hudson wouldn't let him stay at Baker Street without one. She, like everyone else, knew he needed a friend. Despite the fact that Sherlock had money, he chose to live in a small flat and besides his more expensive clothing he didn't indulge in frivolous wastes of money. Mycroft on the other hand like to spend money by going out to expensive restaurants and living in a large house which made no sense as he lived alone. That was where they different though. Mycroft loved to be posh but Sherlock hated all the formalities like I did. It's why he asked us to call him Sherlock and not Mr. Holmes when we first met.

Henry led us into the kitchen in the glass extension and made us coffee as we sat down to talk with him. Sherlock put two sugar lumps into his mug and then into mine and stirred them in before he handed me my mug of coffee. Black, two sugars, exactly the way we both liked it. I kissed his cheek as I accepted it and sat to look at Henry. Sherlock was sitting next to me on a stool at the central island and John was sitting next to him. Henry was standing on the other side of the island gazing down at the work surface. I had asked him when we sat down if he had remembered anything more about the night his father died or anything that could be related to the case. Like Kirsty's rabbit, we needed all of the facts before we could form any conclusions. At first, I had believed that it could be possible for there to be an actual animal out there, but now I wasn't so sure. Henry had seen something though or at least that was what his mind was telling him and the mind was a very delicate thing. We had to be careful about this. Henry was doing rather well for someone who watched his father be violently killed. He was self-sufficient, but I worried that this case might make something surface that finally would make Henry snap.

"It's-it's a couple of words. It's what I keep seeing. "Liberty" ...," Henry told us, still not looking up at us.

"Liberty," John repeated, reaching into his pocket for his notebook and Henry nodded at him once.

""Liberty" and ... "in". It's just that," Henry told us, finally looking up. He picked up the bottle of milk that was on the island. "Are you finished?" Henry asked us and I nodded as John hummed affirmatively. Henry turned around to put the milk into the fridge as John turned to look and Sherlock and me.

"Mean anything to you?" John asked us and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully. Liberty and In. On their own, there wasn't much to go on as there could be many combinations for those words.

""Liberty in death" – isn't that the expression? The only true freedom," Sherlock asked softly and John nodded in agreement as Henry turned back around, sighing. Sherlock took a drink from his mug as I blew on the top of mine to cool it before I likewise took a sip.

"What now, then?" Henry asked us nervously as he anxiously moved his hands in a nervous tick.

"Sherlock and Lexi have got a plan," John told Henry as he turned to look and Sherlock and I and I nodded to Henry as Sherlock lowered his mug.

"Well, it's more like a thing, but we respect the thing," I told them as I took a sip of my coffee, knowing that our plan or thing was not going to be received so well.

"Yes," Sherlock told him, throwing Henry a false smile.

"Right," Henry said as I played with the handle of my mug and tried to look as innocent as possible.

"We take you back out onto the moor ...," Sherlock said before pausing as he looked at me sidelong.

"Okay ...," Henry said nervously and I could tell that he didn't like the idea already.

"... and see if anything attacks you," Sherlock finished brightly and I nudged him with my foot slightly to get him to stop smirking.

"What?!" John asked us in disbelief and exasperation as he quickly turned to the both of us.

"That should bring things to a head," Sherlock told Henry, ignoring John's comment.

"At night? You want me to go out there at night?" Henry asked us in disbelief and Sherlock hummed in agreement.

"That's your plan? " John asked us and he snorted with laughter. "Brilliant!" He told us sarcastically before he looked over at me. "And you actually agreed to this?!" John asked me in disbelief and I nodded at the army doctor as I took another sip of my coffee.

"Got any better ideas?" Sherlock asked John quickly.

"That's not a plan," John countered as he threw a look at me. I set my coffee mug down and raised my eyebrow slightly at him.

"Listen, if there is a monster out there, John, there's only one thing to do: find out where it lives," Sherlock said before he gestured for me to continue for him.

"Not just that, but sitting around here and listening to stories is not going to help us solve the case. If there is something out there on the moors we need to see it. Now if there isn't anything out there then we are perfectly safe and it'll just be a waste of time, if there is then you're with me. You'll be perfectly safe," I said, telling the last part to Henry who looked sceptically back at me.

"How?" He asked me and I grinned slightly at him.

"If you've read John's blog you'll know I always come prepared," I told Henry as I pulled my gun from my case bag. John swore and Henry took a step back as I laid it in front of me on the counter. "Joanna's made sure that I'm a good shot. If there is a hound out there, it wouldn't be going too far," I told the boys before I put my gun back in my bag.

"Hmm I find that I like you with a gun," Sherlock told me as he looked round to Henry and smiled widely at him before taking another drink from his mug.

"I thought you might," I laughed and I kissed Sherlock's cheek which had gone slightly pink at my comment before I hopped off my stool. "Henry, we work with murderers and serial killers and we've all still survived. One hound is nothing. I promise, you'll be safe," I told Henry who didn't look encouraged by this. Well, he would just have to trust me because whether there was a hound out there or not, none of us would be getting hurt. I was prepared for any situation when we came out here because no matter what happened, I would always protect the people I loved, whichever way I had too.

Third Person POV

The group waited until dusk before they headed out to the moors. As night began to fall, Henry led the three of them across the rocks towards Dewer's Hollow. They all carried torches with them to light the uneven ground below their feet. Walking out onto the moors at night wasn't exactly the safest thing to do, but it was still safer than a lot of the things the three of them had done in the past. At least now the biggest thing they had to worry about was sprained ankles or a few cuts and bruises. Foxes screamed repeatedly in the distance and it was easy to see how someone could be frightened out here on the moors. Fear was only a chemical reaction though. When people were afraid. They were more likely to be inclined for self-preservation. By the time the group reached the woods it was almost fully dark and it became even darker when they headed into the trees. John, who was bringing up the rear, heard rustling to his right and turned around to look. The other three didn't notice and continued onwards while John walked cautiously towards the sound he heard. He shined his torch into the bushes as an owl shrieked overhead, but he couldn't see anything. Raising his head he saw a light repeatedly winking on and off at the top of a hillside a fair distance away. He looked around to alert Sherlock and Lexi quickly.

"Lexi. Sher...," John said before he realized that the other three had disappeared out of sight. He shined his flashlight in the direction they went but there was no sign of them. Of course Sherlock and Lexi would continue on without noticing that he wasn't with them. John looked back to the light on the hillside, which was still intermittently flashing, and got his notebook out of his pocket because he had recognized that the flashes were Morse code. He started to write down the letters while speaking them aloud.

"U ... M ... Q ... R ... A," John said softly as the light stopped flashing. John looked down at his notebook. "U, M, Q, R, A," He said in a whisper before he tried it as a word. "Umqra?" John said, shaking his head. He looked up to the hillside again but no more light came from it. Shutting the notebook, he headed off in the direction of the other three to try and find them again. "Lexi. Sherlock ..." John called again but unbeknownst to the army doctor, Henry, Sherlock, and Lexi were a long way ahead of him. Henry's torch showed that they were at the edge of the minefield with its fencing and warning signs. The trio made their way along the edge of the fencing while John trailed a long way behind them, still whispering his friend's names repeatedly. "Lexi…Sherlock ... Sherlock ...Lexi…," John called, hoping that one of them would answer him. Up ahead, Sherlock broke the silence, Lexi holding his hand tightly as he helped her navigate around the trees and shrubs so that she wouldn't injure herself as she so often did.

"Met a friend of yours," Sherlock told Henry who looked round at him and Lexi made an annoyed sound as he foot got caught up on some broken branches.

"What?" Henry asked him as Lexi sighed in irritation and shot Sherlock an annoyed look when he smirked at her.

"Doctor Frankland," Sherlock told him and Henry nodded at him.

"Oh, right. Bob, yeah," Henry said as Lexi frowned slightly in thought.

"He seems to be pretty concerned about you," Lexi told Henry as Sherlock helped her detangle her hair which had gotten caught on something. It would appear that this stroll wasn't a walk in the park for her.

"He's a worrier, bless him. He's been very kind to me since I came back," Henry told her and Lexi nodded as she got out a hair elastic and quickly pulled her hair up into a messy bun before she nodded at Sherlock who was smirking at her in amusement.

"He knew your father," Sherlock said and Henry nodded in confirmation again and answered that he had.

"How did that relationship work out? He works at Baskerville. Didn't your dad have a problem with that?" Lexi asked Sherlock and the two detectives shared a pointed look. Lexi had a point after all. Henry did say that his father talked a lot about Baskerville and that none of it was good stuff. Seemed rather odd that he would be friends with someone who worked there.

"Well, mates are mates, aren't they? I mean, look at you two and John," Henry told them and Lexi raised her eyebrow at the boy which he couldn't see in the gloom. Sherlock glanced at him quickly and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What about us?" Sherlock asked Henry quickly. Why would it be surprising that they were friends?

"Well, I mean, he's a pretty straightforward bloke, and you two ...," Henry told them, glancing back at Sherlock's grim expression and Lexi's raised eyebrow and deciding not to follow that line. "They agreed never to talk about work, Uncle Bob and my dad," Henry told them and he stopped and turned to his left. As Sherlock and Lexi stopped and looked at him, Henry nodded in the direction he was looking. "Dewer's Hollow," Henry told the two detectives unhappily. They turned and looked at the steep drop in the land that led down into a misty dark valley.

"The Devil's Hollow. Let's see if it can live up to its namesake," Lexi said before she looked back at Sherlock who nodded at her before they started their descent.

Some distance behind them, John was still following their trail. "Sherlock ...Lexi…," John whispered, trying to find them and having no luck yet. They couldn't have gone too far.

As he progressed onwards, he heard an eerie metallic thrumming sound. He stopped and aimed his flashlight in the direction of the sound, then went to move onwards just as the thrum sounded again. The sound continued to repeat, now interspersed with a short metallic ping. John walked slowly towards the sound, then quietly chuckled when he saw a rusty metal container, possibly an oil drum, which was lying in the undergrowth. Water was dripping from the tree above it and causing the thrums and pings as it struck the drum. Just as John looked at it and sighed with relief, something massive flashed past behind him. John spun and looked but it was already gone. A couple of seconds later an anguished howl sounded in the distance. John turned and began to hurry to find the others before they ran into what ever had made that sound.

Sherlock was heading down into the Hollow, being careful to keep his balance on the steep slippery ground. He looked back and once he had found some even footing he helped Lexi make her way down into the Hollow so that she wouldn't fall. Henry followed them down more slowly. Sherlock reached the bottom and turned back, picking Lexi up by the waist and lifting her down onto the ground beside him. She brushed herself off before they both shined their torches around, finding giant paw prints all around the ground. Some distance away, John was now running to get to the others. Another long anguished howl rang out and Sherlock pulled Lexi closely to himself as she took her gun out and held it up. Still halfway down the slope, Henry paused. Sherlock shined his torch up in the direction of the sound ... and his face began to fill with horror at the sight which greeted him. Lexi gasped out his name as the thing growled savagely from the top of the Hollow. As the beam from Sherlock and Lexi's flashlights flailed along the Hollow's rim, whatever it was had already retreated. Sherlock recoiled, his face confused and bewildered as he tried to take in what he had just seen. Lexi looked equally as shocked and slightly pale. From his position some distance away, Henry hurried down to join him as Lexi lowered her gun and managed to put it away again.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Did you see it?" Henry asked them and Sherlock lowered his head, still unable to get his mind to accept the evidence of his eyes. He looked down at Lexi and the two of them shared a look. Sherlock assured himself that Lexi was physically unharmed before he stared around, shaking his head. He shoved Henry out of his way and hurried back up the hillside, pulling Lexi up along behind him, his first thought being to get her out of there. Henry followed them out of the Hollow and very shortly afterwards, John finally met up with the other three making their way back.

"Did you hear that?" John asked them, referring to the howling and not noticing the expressions on Sherlock and Lexi's faces. Sherlock stormed straight past him, Lexi tucked into his side and his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. He was not letting her be anywhere than right next to him right now we he could assure himself that she was safe. John turned and followed after them.

"We saw it. We saw it," Henry told John who looked round at him in shock.

"No. We didn't see anything," Sherlock told John as he just kept walking, Lexi wrapping her arm around his waist as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"What? What are you talking about?" Henry asked him in disbelief as he chased after the two detectives.

"We didn't. See. Anything," Sherlock repeated and he hurried onwards with Henry and John trailing along behind them. When they got ahead of John and Henry so they were out of ear shot, Lexi finally asked him the question she had.

"Love, did you…?" Lexi asked him as she looked up at him, still looking a bit pale.

"Yes," Sherlock answered her shortly. "As did you," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded in confirmation.

"You don't think it was an actual hound, do you?" Lexi asked Sherlock and he looked down at her in surprise and furrowed his brown in confusion.

"What, are you suggesting it was?" Sherlock asked her and Lexi shrugged slightly.

"I don't know for sure, but I have several theories," Lexi told him and Sherlock knew she would say no more until they got back to the inn. He bent down and kissed the top of her head before rubbing his hand up and down her arm to try and comfort her. What they saw had certainly shocked and possibly scared her.

Lexi's POV

Sherlock and I returned to the inn while John went over to Henry's house to make sure he was alright and settled in for the night. Sherlock and I sat in the same chair in front of the fire as we had the night before. I knew what we had seen out in the Hallow. The fact was that it couldn't have been true. Sherlock held onto me, playing with my hair as he stared into the depths of the fire. He hadn't let me go since we left the Hollow. Now that we were alone I could tell him what I thought. Seeing the hound for myself had confirmed some of the thoughts that I had. I sat back and traced the contours of Sherlock's jaw and he turned away from the fire to look up at me. I leaned down and pressed a long kiss to his lips before I sat back and rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone comfortingly.

"I know what we saw and it isn't," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me slightly as he let me talk. "At first I thought that there might be a hound. When Henry came to us, as impossible as it sounded, he was convinced in his mind that there was a hound. After seeing Baskerville and seeing it for myself, I don't think there is. I think that someone wants us to see it," I told Sherlock and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean, wants us to see it?" Sherlock asked me and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

"That part I still don't have an answer for. Why would someone want Henry to see the hound? What could anyone gain from that?" I asked Sherlock before shaking my head. "What I do know though is that the hound Henry would have seen as a child would be dead by now if there ever was a real hound in the first place which I doubt. So if there is no hound, what did we see? The power of suggestion tells us that because we heard the noise and Henry said he saw a hound, we also saw a hound. Black fur, very large, and red eyes, exactly like Henry's picture because that is all we have to know what the hound looks like," I told Sherlock and he tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at me questioningly.

"You think we were drugged?" Sherlock asked me and I shrugged.

"Maybe," I told Sherlock as I snuggled down against his chest.

"We'd have to test that theory," Sherlock told me and I nodded and hummed in agreement.

"As much as I would hate to, your right and he is the only one that hasn't seen it," I told Sherlock, knowing what he was talking about and who we would be testing that theory on. John was the only one who hadn't seen it and if we were going to test my theory he was the best control in this experiment. I didn't condone experimenting on friends, but the most we would be doing is making John see something that wasn't real. No actual hound meant that besides some psychological trauma that he would get over, no physical danger would come to him which was something I could agree upon.

"Of course I'm right," Sherlock told me smugly and I chuckled as I poked him in the chest and sat up.

"Well you are Mr. Right," I told Sherlock as he smirked up at me and I shook my head at him fondly. "If we are going to do this we have to convince him that we did honestly see it. That's easy for me, but you'll have a harder time to convince him," I told Sherlock and he shrugged at me.

"I can more than well do it," Sherlock assured me and I nodded at him once.

"Just make sure you apologize later," I told him before I went over to the bar to order us some drinks. If we were going to do this we would do it right and right now I could use a drink. Besides, John knew that Sherlock didn't drink so his out of character reaction to what he had "seen" would only add evidence to our claim. I saluted Gary with my first tumbler of whiskey as I walked back over to Sherlock. Let's just hope that John could forgive us for this later.

John's POV

At Henry's house, Henry and John hurried indoors, Sherlock and Lexi having disappeared off to the inn together. John was actually glad that Lexi had gone off with him because if anyone had a chance of dealing with Sherlock right now it was her.

"Look, they must have seen it. I saw it – they must have. They must have. I can't ... Why? Why?" Henry asked as he stopped in the doorway of the sitting room, turning back to John in anguish. "Why would he say that? It-it-it-it it was there. It was," Henry told him and taking his gloves off, John ushered him across to the sofa.

"Henry, Henry, I need you to sit down, try and relax, please," John told him and Henry sat down on the sofa.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Henry said, assuring John and sounding like he was also trying to assure himself of this fact.

"Listen, I'm gonna give you something to help you sleep, all right?" John asked him and he looked around the room and saw a bottle of water on a bureau nearby. He walked over to get it, while Henry unwrapped his scarf from his neck, smiling.

"This is good news, John. It's-it's-it's good. I'm not crazy. There is a hound, there ... there is. And Sherlock and Lexi – they saw it too. No matter what he said, they saw it," Henry told him and John looked back at him unsure what to say. He had seen Sherlock and Lexi's faces. Whatever happened in the Hollow, they did see something, but whether it was the hound or not, John didn't know.

When John returned to the inn he found Sherlock and Lexi sitting in an armchair by a roaring open fire. Sherlock's face was still full of shock and disbelief, but Lexi looked calmer than before and some colour had returned to her face. John watched them for a moment as the rest of the patrons went about having their evening meal, unaware of the two detectives sitting with each other, before her walked over and sat down in the armchair on the other side of the fire.

"Well, he is in a pretty bad way. He's manic, totally convinced there's some mutant super-dog roaming the moors," John told them and with his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth, Sherlock glanced nervously at John for a moment, then continued to gaze in the direction of the fire, lost in thought. Lexi was no better, staring into the fire, her eyes blank and she sat next to Sherlock in the large chair. "And there isn't, though, is there? 'Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we'd know," John said as Sherlock clasped his fingers together, closing his eyes, and breathing heavily as if he was trying to fend off a panic attack. Lexi moved her hand slowly and put it on his knee, flicking her gaze over to him for a moment. "They'd be for sale. I mean, that's how it works," John continued before he remembered the light he had seen out on the moors and reached for his notebook. "Er, listen: er, on the moor I saw someone signalling. Er, Morse – I guess it's Morse," John told them as Sherlock blinked rapidly and repeatedly. "Doesn't seem to make much sense," John said, looking down at his notes. Sherlock pulled in a sharp breath through his nose and then blew the breath out again through his mouth as Lexi shifted in her seat and leaned against Sherlock slightly. "Er, U, M, Q, R, A. Does that mean ... anything ...," John said finally realizing how distressed Sherlock and Lexi looked and pausing for a moment before deciding that he couldn't be right. Sherlock was always fine and Lexi didn't react to these sorts of things, she was very rational. John put his notebook away again and sat back in his chair. "So, okay, what have we got? We know there's footprints, 'cause Henry found them; so did the tour guide bloke. We all heard something," John said and Sherlock blew out another shaky breath as Lexi slipped her hand in his and squeezed it in a comforting gesture. John looked across to them and frowned momentarily. "Maybe we should just look for whoever's got a big dog."

"Henry's right," Sherlock said, suddenly speaking and Lexi nodded numbly.

"As much as we've tried to be rational…," Lexi said as she gazed into the depths of the fire.

"What?" John asked the two of them in disbelief, unsure if he had heard them properly. Did Sherlock just say that Henry was right?

"We saw it too," Sherlock told John, his voice shaking.

"What?" John asked them again, shocked.

"Out in the Hollow, we saw it too, John," Lexi said as she turned her gaze away from the fire and looked at him, her voice shaky and not at all calm and light hearted as it normally was.

"Just ... just a minute," John told them as he sat forward. "You saw what?" John asked them and Sherlock finally met his gaze but his face was twisted with self-loathing as he forced himself to admit the truth.

"A hound, out there in the Hollow," Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "A gigantic hound," Sherlock finished and John almost laughed as Sherlock looked away, trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. John sat back in his chair again, not quite able to cope with this strange reaction from his friend. Lexi looked just as shaken up as Sherlock did and she and Sherlock were holding hands so tightly that their knuckles were white.

"Um, look, Sherlock, Lexi, we have to be rational about this, okay? Now you two, of all people, can't just ...," John started and Sherlock blew out another breath. "Let's just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts," John told them and Sherlock looked round at him as did Lexi.

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be true," Sherlock told him softly with his hands in his prayer pose and John frowned in confusion.

"What does that mean?" John asked Sherlock and Lexi answered him.

"It means that however improbable it seems John, we did see it," Lexi told him as they both looked away again. Sherlock reached down and picked up a drink from a nearby table and John realized then that Lexi had a drink in her other hand. Looking down at his trembling hand, Sherlock sniggered as Lexi took a sip of her whiskey.

"Look at me. I'm afraid, John. Afraid," Sherlock said and he took a drink and then held the glass up again, his hand still shaking. That was unlike him. Sherlock never drank, Lexi yes, but never Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" John asked him, worried now.

"Always been able to keep myself distant ...," Sherlock said as he took another drink from the glass "...divorce myself from ... feelings. But look, you see ...," Sherlock said as he held up the glass and glared at his shaking hand. "...body's betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions," Sherlock said and he slammed the glass down onto the table. "The grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment."

"Yeah, all right, Spock, just ...," John said, realizing that he was starting to raise his voice, he looked around at the other people in the restaurant behind him and then looked back to Sherlock. "...take it easy," John told him more softly. "And you can't say that you don't have emotions because you and Lexi look pretty cosy over there," John told him as Sherlock blew out a few more breaths and still seemed to be failing to bring himself under control. He glanced panic-stricken at John as Lexi looked round at him too, her expression still blank and a bit panicked as well. "You two have been pretty wired lately, you know you have. I think you've just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up."

"Worked ... up?" Sherlock asked him as he turned to him looking a bit angry.

"It was dark and scary ...," John said before Sherlock cut him off.

"Us?! There's nothing wrong with us," Sherlock said, laughing sarcastically. He looked away, almost beginning to hyperventilate, then put his fingertips to his temples, groaning in anguish. Lexi put her hands up to his face and grabbed his hand, looking at him in that way she always did as he looked down at her, blinking rapidly. Lexi frowned before she settled her head against Sherlock's chest and he wrapped and arm around her waist tightly. John looked at them in concern, especially because Lexi wasn't speak. Lexi was always talking or adding in some input. He would have suspected her to be more rational about this and attempting to calm Sherlock down and get him to realize that it was nothing but his imagination getting the better of him.

"Lexi… Sherlock ...," John said as Sherlock began blowing out breaths again, his fingers trembling against Lexi's skin. "Sher...," John started before Sherlock cut him off angrily.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH US!" Sherlock shouted at him furiously as he glared round at John over the top of Lexi's head. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Sherlock asked John and he looked round at the other patrons, all of whom were now staring at him. He looked away again, then looked at John as his arms tightened around Lexi who John could see was shaking like a leaf. She looked, well she looked as bad as Sherlock did and he saw a tear slip down her cheek and land on Sherlock's suit. "You want me to prove it, yes?" Sherlock asked him as he pulled in a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. "We're looking for a dog, yes, a great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start?" Sherlock asked John quickly. The patrons had gone back to their eating. Sherlock looked over his shoulder and pointed towards a man and woman sitting opposite each other at a table in the corner of the restaurant. His voice became savage and relentless as he went into his deduction mode "How about them? The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes"

"Yes?" John asked him quickly in confusion as Lexi sat up slightly and took a look over at the couple, tear tracks on her face and still shaking as she picked up her glass from where she had set it down and drank a large gulp of her whisky as her hands shook badly.

"She's got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we're looking for," Sherlock spat at the army doctor.

"Oh, Sherlock, for God's sake ...," John told him quietly and Sherlock looked briefly across at the man and his knitted jumper with reindeer and holly leaves on it before turning away again.

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money," Sherlock deduced rapid fire as Lexi finished her drink and tucked herself back closely next to Sherlock as he heled her tightly to him, taking another quick glance at the man. "He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economise on his own food."

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry," John told Sherlock trying to stop him before he really got going because it looked like Lexi was not going to stop him. By now she should have already hit him or at least given him a warning, but she looked pale again as Sherlock held her tightly as she shook.

"No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off – you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes," Sherlock deduced quick fire, becoming almost frenetic. He asked the question he was expecting to come from John at any moment. "How d'you know she's his mother?" John, who until now had been looking at his friends with concern as Sherlock's voice, while lowered, had become increasingly intense, smiled briefly. "Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive – fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. "Widowed?" Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck – clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well-dressed but her jewellery's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it – it's sentimental. Now, the dog ...," Sherlock said rapidly as he looked at the thick wiry hairs on the lower part of the woman's black trousers. "...tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is – a West Highland terrier called Whisky. "How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?" 'Cause she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name, Lexi stopped to pet it when she came back from the lavatory, and that's not cheating, that's listening and looking, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I've never been better and so is Lexi, so just Leave. Us. Alone," Sherlock finished as he glared at John, who stared back at him in shock.

"Yeah," John said and he cleared his throat. "Okay. Okay," John said distressed by Sherlock's venom, he tried to settle back in his chair while Sherlock stared towards the fire, breathing heavily. Lexi blinking back tears rapidly as Sherlock continued to hold her tightly to his chest, both arms wrapped around her as she tucked her legs up under her and her head under his chin. "And why would you two listen to me? I'm just your friend," John said and Sherlock looked back at him.

"We don't have friends," Sherlock told him savagely.

"Naah. Wonder why?" John told him softly, surprised that Lexi hadn't even said anything either. He got up and walked away from them. John stormed out of the pub and stopped just outside, breathing heavily. He gazed up into the sky and blew out a breath, pulling himself together, then looked into the distance and his eyes narrowed. The flashing light was back on the hillside. As it continued to flash, he started to walk in its direction. Fine, they wanted him to leave them alone than he would. It wasn't like they were friends or anything.

Lexi's POV

As soon as John walked away I pulled myself away from Sherlock and stopped shaking before I rubbed the water from my eyes. Sherlock quit his own theatrics as well and looked like the picture of calm. I sighed heavily and Sherlock handed me what was left of his drink. I took it and finished it off before Sherlock pulled me back up against him. I snuggled my head under his chin and sighed again, only in contentment this time. I didn't want to have to do that to John but it was necessary. We had to make him think we had seen the hound and the best way to do it was say we had and given what John knew of Sherlock's personality the best way to do that was to do what we had. Sherlock was the first to break the silence as we stared into the fire.

"I do have friends you know," Sherlock told me and I pulled back to look at him.

"Course you do. You have me if no one else," I told Sherlock, lifting my hand up to brush away some of the curls on his forehead.

"I'd like to think that you are more than just a friend," Sherlock told me and I grinned back at him.

"Most definitely," I assured him, seeing the little bit of doubt in Sherlock's eyes, not about me but about himself. I leaned down and kissed him, but when I went to pull away he held me closer to him, drawing out the kiss desperately. When we broke apart I could tell that he was assuring himself that I was still here. "I'm not going anywhere. Never again," I promised Sherlock and he nodded at me before I pressed another kiss to his lips. "Sherlock, if you were scared, courage isn't a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway," I told Sherlock, knowing that he needed to know that as well. He nodded at me once, looking thoughtful and I knew that was the best I could tell him to assuage his fears. We settled into the chair together in front of the fire and just stayed there together, enjoying each other's company. I meant what I had said, I was never leaving Sherlock again. If one of us left, we left together, because I was not going to lose him a second time.


	73. The Plot Thickens

**Hello sweeties! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy the fluff! Sorry for the short note but well college is a bit crazy this week and yeah...bogged down with work. So Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy One- The Plot Thickens<strong>

John walked out on the moors, using his torch to illuminate the way. He headed towards the flashing light on the hillside, deciding to poke around and investigate a bit on his own. As he reached the top of the hill he could hear a rhythmic squeaking noise, and then as he shined his light around he realized that there were several cars parked up there. The drivers sitting in each car flinched and held their hands up to shield their faces from the beam of John's torch, but they were also trying to avoid being identified and John now realized why when he turned his beam onto a car which had slightly steamed-up windows and was rocking from side to side. Its headlights were intermittently flashing on and off and a woman's voice came from inside the car.

"Oh! Mr. Selden! You've done it again!" The woman said as John realized what was happening.

"Oh, I keep catching it with my belt," A man replied as the inhabitants of the car groaned and continued about their ... business, John lowered his torch quickly.

"Oh, God…," John said and he hesitated and squinted at the car, almost tempted to take another look and half-raising his torch again, but then it fully hit him that the Morse messages he wrote down were nothing more than the random flashings of a car's headlights during the sexual goings-on of a dogging site. He turned and headed back towards the pub. "Sh...," He swore, trailing off in embarrassment. As he walked away from the hillside his phone trilled a text alert. He got the phone out and looked at the message:

**_Henry's therapist currently in Cross Keys Pub_**

**_S_**

John wrote a brief reply in capital letters, speaking it aloud as he typed:

**_SO?_**

Sherlock's reply came almost instantly:

**_Interview her?_**

John answered him still teed off about earlier:

**_WHY SHOULD I?_**

After a moment he got another alert:

**_Downloading image ..._**

Shortly afterwards the image arrived and he opened it. It's was a covertly-taken photograph of Louise Mortimer standing at the bar. She was pretty, and around John's age. He looked at the photo for a moment before another text message came through, a second coming in shortly after the first.

**_She looks like she might be worth your time.-L_**

**_And I am sorry John.-L_**

"Ooh, you're a bad man," John told himself as he shook his head before he walked on back towards the pub. At least Lexi had apologized, but she wasn't the one who said anything. He wouldn't stay mad at Lexi since she seemed to not be in a position to stop Sherlock at the time and it wasn't her responsibility to. Sherlock was the one who had said it and John would remain pissed at him until Sherlock realized that he was wrong and apologized without Lexi making him.

John returned to the pub and started chatting up Louise Mortimer, getting her to join him over at a table for a drink. John would brag and say that he was fairly good at picking up women, but he would say that he did a pretty decent job. They were chatting and laughing and things were going pretty well. At least Lexi seemed to approve of her if she told him that she might be worth his time. That was a far cry better from how she felt about Jeanette and all the other girls he had brought round the flat. The worst still was Sarah. After what had happened on his first and second dates with her he was still surprised that they had dated for as long as they did. Lexi it seemed could find faults with any woman he decided to date.

"That's so mean!" Dr. Mortimer said, giggling. John picked up a half-empty wine bottle from the table.

What is?" John ased her, laughing as well. "Um, more wine, Doctor?" He offered her and she gave him a suspicious look.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Doctor?" She asked him playfully.

"The thought never occurred!" John flirted back as he refilled her glass.

"Because a while ago I thought you were chatting me up," She said, flirting right back at him which made John smile smugly.

"Ooh! Where did I go wrong?" John joked as he refilled his own glass.

"When you started asking me about my patients," Dr. Mortimer told him, getting a little bit more serious as she picked up her wine and took a sip.

"Well, you see, I am one of Henry's oldest friends," John lied as he picked up his wine and took a sip.

"Yeah, and he's one of my patients, so I can't talk about him," Dr. Mortimer said, shaking her head and John hummed in agreement. "Although he has told me about all his oldest friends," She said as she looked at him thoughtfully, one of her hands folded under her chin. "Which one are you?"

"A new one?" John told her hopefully and she scoffed. "Okay, what about his father? He wasn't one of your patients. Wasn't he some sort of conspiracy nutter ...," John said before he quickly corrected himself. "...theorist?"

"You're only a nutter if you're wrong," Dr. Mortimer told him as she took another sip of her wine. Nice save then.

"Mmm. And was he wrong?" John asked her, raising his eyebrows a bit as he drank more of his wine.

"I should think so!" She told him, widening her eyes before she continued drinking.

"But he got fixated on Baskerville, didn't he? With what they were doing in there ... Couldn't Henry have gone the same way, started imagining a hound?" John asked her and she looked at him pointedly.

"Why d'you think I'm going to talk about this?!" She asked him as she lowered her glass and crossed her arms on top of the table, giving John a hard look.

"Because I think you're worried about him, and because I'm a doctor too ...," John told her, laughing in acknowledgement of her seeing through him before his face became more serious. "... and because I have two other friends who might be having the same problem," John told her and they locked eyes for a long moment and finally Louise sighed. She had apparently decided to tell him more than she really ought to ... but before she could even begin a hand clapped down onto John's shoulder from behind him. John looked round in surprise and saw Bob Frankland grinning down at him.

"Doctor Watson!" Frankland greeted him cheerfully.

"Hi," John told him, unhappy about the interruption.

"Hello," Frankland said to Louise before he turned back to John. "How's the investigation going?" Frankland asked him.

"Hello," John said doing everything but roll his eyes in dismay as he didn't know what else to say.

"What? Investigation?" Dr. Mortimer asked Frankland in confusion.

"Didn't you know? Don't you read the blog? Sherlock Holmes! Lexi MacKenna!" Frankland told her, sounding scandalized.

"It's ...," John said, not knowing how to recover this conversation.

"Sherlock and Lexi who?" Dr. Mortimer asked Frankland, turning to look at John and raising her eyebrow suspiciously.

"No, it's ...," John tried but Frankland interrupted him.

"Private detectives!" Frankland said delightedly and he clapped John on the shoulder again. "This is their P.A!"

"P.A?" John asked Frankland and he corrected himself.

"Well, live-in P.A," Frankland said and John sighed heavily.

"Perfect!" He said sarcastically as he sat back in his seat.

"Live-in," Dr. Mortimer sighed, getting the wrong opinion like everyone else.

"This is Doctor Mortimer, Henry's therapist," John introduced her politely.

"Oh, hello," Frankland said and he shook hands with her. "Bob Frankland," He introduced himself and then he turned back to John. As he spoke, Louise was already twisting on her chair to take her coat off the back. "Listen, tell Sherlock and Lexi I've been keeping an eye on Stapleton. Any time they want a little chat ... right?" Frankland asked him and John hummed trying to be brief to get him to go away. Frankland laughed heartily, clapped John on the shoulder yet again, and then walked away. John looked at Louise and realized that she had her coat in her hands.

"Oh," John said as he gestured to her, frowning.

"Why don't you buy him a drink? I think he likes you," Dr. Mortimer told him dejectedly and she stood up and left. John sighed. And it had been going so well. John finished off the rest of the bottle of wine by himself before he went upstairs to their room. Sherlock and Lexi were already asleep in the bed and John looked at them for one moment. Sherlock looked a bit more peaceful now that he was sleeping, but he was still holding Lexi tightly to him who was frowning a bit in her sleep. John sighed heavily before he quietly changed and slipped under the covers of his cot. Maybe Sherlock and Lexi would be a bit…calmer in the morning.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I got up early and got dressed quietly before John was even awake. We slipped out of the room and enjoyed a light breakfast together down in the pub before we headed out back onto the moors together. In the day time the moors didn't seem nearly as ominous as they did at night. We climbed back on top of the stony outcrop again and stared off towards Baskerville. Sherlock's eyes flicked between the complex and Dewer's Hollow as he tried to make sense of what happened the previous night. He then turned and looked back towards Grimpen Village. I looked up at him and he nodded at me in silent confirmation of my thoughts. In the light of day it was a lot easier to make sense of what we had seen or hadn't seen. Sherlock had told me over breakfast that he was convinced that the drug was in the sugar, possibly Henry's sugar. We were the only two who took sugar and we had tea at Henry's right before we had gone out at dusk to the Hollow. John was the only one that didn't have his tea with sugar. I agreed with him that his theory was possible so we got back into the car and drove to our next stop which was Henry's house. Sherlock had a master plan that involved stealing some of Henry's sugar and then dosing John's drink with it. I wasn't so convinced that it was the sugar though. Fletcher had seen something in the Hollow too so unless he went round to Henry's for tea regularly he couldn't have been drugged too. I was going to let Sherlock try his theory first though. We got out of the car and walked up to Henry's door together, Sherlock knocking on it before we waited. As soon as Henry opened the door Sherlock surged though, being loudly cheerful.

"Morning!" Sherlock told Henry, heading for the kitchen at first before I coughed to remind him to not be overly suspicious and he turned around to clasp Henry by the shoulders "Oh, how are you feeling?" Sherlock asked Henry who looked terrible. Sherlock ducked his head down to get a better look into his face.

"I'm ... I didn't sleep very well," Henry told him exhaustedly and I shook my head at Sherlock's antics.

"I imagine not," I told Henry, raising my eyebrow at Sherlock, an amused smile on my face, when he flicked his gaze over to me.

"That's a shame. Shall I make you some coffee?" Sherlock asked Henry very quickly and I bit back a laugh as he looked up at the ceiling above the door and pointed at it. "Oh look, you've got damp!" He said, sounding delighted. He grinned falsely at him until Henry turned his head to look at the ceiling, then dropped the smile, and turned and walked away towards the kitchen.

"Sorry about him he's a little hyper this morning," I told Henry who nodded at me slightly as I closed the door behind me then walked past Henry to the kitchen where Sherlock had hurried over to the cupboards and was opening and closing each one rapidly. He finally found the metal jar that he was looking for and took it out, rummaging inside it while he elbowed the cupboard door closed. He sent me a look as he tucked the sugar into his coat and I shook my head at him fondly as he went over to the sink and picked up three mugs, taking them over to the central island just as Henry tiredly wandered in.

"Listen ... last night," Henry started and Sherlock gave him that horrifying attempt at a friendly smile while he took the top off the coffee tin. I leaned against the counter, just watching him in amusement as I leaned my head against one of my hands. "Why did you say you two hadn't seen anything? I mean, I only saw the hound for a minute, but...," Henry said as Sherlock dumped spoonfuls of coffee into the mugs without even looking, his eyes locked on Henry's. He slammed the coffee tin down onto the surface and stepped closer to Henry, his eyes back to their normal intensity.

"Hound," Sherlock said and I rolled my eyes at how he was acting.

"What?" Henry asked him quickly in confusion.

"Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?" Sherlock asked Henry, flicking his gaze over to me and I raised my eyebrow slightly at him.

"Why – what do you mean?" Henry asked us and I sighed before answering him, stopping Sherlock before he got started again.

"He means that it's slightly odd that you call it that. It is a strange choice of words, the word hound is very archaic," I told Henry and Sherlock nodded vigorously.

"It's why we took the case. "Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound." Why say "hound"?" Sherlock asked Henry again and I cleared my throat slightly in warning to Sherlock. He flicked his gaze over to me slightly and nodded his head at me slightly.

"I don't know! I ...," Henry said before Sherlock cut him off quickly.

"Actually, we'd better skip the coffee," Sherlock said as he started out of the kitchen, reaching and taking my hand to pull me with him. I shook my head and rolled my eyes as Henry sighed wearily behind us.

"Stop that," I told Sherlock as we left Henry's house and walked back out to the car. He frowned at me and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Stop what?" He asked me as we both opened our doors and I slid into the passenger's seat as he climbed in behind the wheel.

"You're acting manic," I told him as I rolled my eyes before I reached into my case bag and pulled out our cigarettes. "You forgot our patches," I told him, having noticed that it was the one thing he forgot to pack. Sherlock looked at me gratefully as he accepted one of the cigarettes. I started to get a dull headache the night before when my patches ran out of nicotine and by now my headache had gotten worse. "One," I told Sherlock, giving him a pointed look and he nodded at me before I handed him over the lighter. He light his cigarette before handing me back the lighter and I lit mine. Sherlock breathed in his first lungful of smoke and moaned in satisfaction. I shook my head at him and he rolled down the windows before he put the car into gear and started driving back into town. I blew my own lungful of smoke out of the window, my headache going away as the nicotine entered my system again. I shook my head at myself, well at least smoking wasn't as bad as heroin or cocaine. As soon as we got back home Sherlock and I were kicking this habit together.

We returned to the inn and parked the car before getting rid of the evidence so John wouldn't find out later. John had headed out of the room when we checked upstairs for him and he had left a note to let us know if we came back that he had gone on a wander about the village. Sherlock decided that a nice stroll sounded good so went on a walk through the village together. I broke down and just one turned into two on our walk. We stopped in a small sweet shop and Sherlock and I shared some chocolates. As much as Sherlock said he didn't eat on cases, I was rather good at convincing him too. Also, as much as Sherlock complained her did actually like food, especially sweets. I had called Mummy Holmes and gotten her to send me some of Sherlock's favourite recipes from when he was a child. He never seemed to notice that I did it, but whenever I made him something he would eat more than one helping of it. Of course, I made the recipes a bit more grown up.

During our stroll I found a peach tree that I made Sherlock stop at. The branch closest to the lowest fruit on the tree which was actually ripe was just a few feet higher than Sherlock's head. I stared up at the tree wondering how I was going to shimmy up to the branch to get to it. I loved fresh peaches but the ones in London never were the same. I suddenly let out a squeak of surprise when I was lifted up by a pair of very strong arms. I looked down and saw Sherlock's curly head as he lifted me higher before he set me up on his shoulders. I giggled as he wrapped both of his arms around my thighs so I wouldn't fall over. I leaned down enough to press a kiss to the top of his curls before he positioned me under the branch. I was now at the perfect height where I only had to reach up and I was able to pick several peaches fort he both of us. Once I had collected our tasty treat, Sherlock carefully knelt down so I could slip off his shoulders. I turned to face him as he drew me closer to him, holding my waist in both of his hands and I smirked at him as I lifted a peach ot my mouth and took a bite of it, munching on it. The burst of sweetness made me moan slightly before I closed my eyes in contentment. I opened my eyes and looked at Sherlock who had a dark look in his eyes as he watched me. I grinned up at him before I pulled him down for a kiss by the lapels of his coat. He slipped his tongue into my mouth delicately and I heard him hum appreciatively as we lost ourselves in the moment. When we broke apart I was more than a little dazed and he was smiling devilishly, his hair sufficiently ruffled as he snuck one of the peaches from me before slipping his hand into mine. They had never been his favourite in fact he often made faces at them.

"I think I have discovered a new fondness for peaches," Sherlock told me casually as we started walking along the quiet lane again and he bit into his peach as I tilted my head to look at him and raised my eyebrow.

"Have you now?" I asked him and he hummed as he continued to smirk at me. "Well I think they're alright…," I told him and he raised his eyebrow at me.

"Just alright?" He asked me and I hummed, smirking at him before I tossed away by barely touched peach and pulled him in for a second deep kiss. "I quite like detectives better," I told him after we broke apart and he chuckled, pressing a light kiss to my lips as he tossed away his peach before we continued along together again, wrapped up in our own little world.

As we headed back through the village we stopped when we saw John in the church graveyard, sitting on the steps of a war memorial and looking through the notes in his notebook. I nodded at Sherlock and he walked forward and opened the kissing gate, letting me enter the graveyard before he followed after me. We walked along the path hand in hand towards John, who looked up as he heard us approach. His expression became uncomfortable as he tucked his notebook into his pocket. My goal right now was to get the boys to make up. It was all part of our plan. Fight, make up, and then carry out the end of our experiment. Sherlock grimaced briefly as we stopped in front of him, also looking awkward.

"Did you, er, get anywhere with that Morse code?" Sherlock asked John awkwardly as he shuffled slightly on his feet.

"No," John told him, stepping down off the war memorial and starting to walk away from us.

"U, M, Q, R, A, wasn't it?" Sherlock asked him and John kept walking as Sherlock and I followed along behind him. "UMQRA," Sherlock said, saying it like a word as I broke it up in my head to put full stops between the letters.

"Nothing," John told Sherlock as he tried to sound it out again, having added stops to it as well.

"U.M.Q...," Sherlock said before John cut him off sharply.

"Look, forget it. It's ... I thought I was on to something. I wasn't," John told us as we followed a little ways behind him.

"Sure?" Sherlock asked him, lifting his eyebrow slightly.

"Yeah," John answered him shortly and I could tell he wasn't too happy with Sherlock which was understandable.

"How about Louise Mortimer? Did you get anywhere with her?" Sherlock asked him and I grinned at Sherlock, knowing that he wasn't asking if he got any information from her but if his time with her had went any further than flirting. John answered with a simple no and Sherlock smirked at me before asking John another question. "Too bad. Did you get any information?"

"You being funny now?" John asked Sherlock, smiling briefly and glancing over his shoulder at us but he still kept walking.

"Thought it might break the ice a bit," Sherlock told him and I sighed as John just kept walking. And he said we were idiots for not stopping to talk to one another when we had a misunderstanding.

"Funny doesn't suit you. I'd stick to ice," John shot back and Sherlock looked at John's retreating back, his face full of pain. He looked down at me pleadingly and I nodded at him.

"John ...," I called after the army doctor, trying to get him to stop and listen to us for a minute.

"It's fine," John told me and I snorted and rolled my eyes. Like Hell it was. If everything was fine, he would actually stop and talk to us. Granted we had to fight with him for our plan to work, but when did Sherlock ever try to apologize in the past. Here he was, actually trying, because he actually wanted to. As much as Sherlock and I loved spending time together alone, we missed John when he wasn't there.

"No, wait. What happened last night ... Something happened to us; something we've not really experienced before ...," Sherlock started off before John cut him off.

"Yes, you said, fear. Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna got scared. You said," John said as we caught up with him and Sherlock took hold of his arm and pulled him round to face him.

"No-no-no, it was more than that, John. It was doubt. We felt doubt. We've always been able to trust our senses, the evidence of our own eyes, until last night," Sherlock told John and I understood what he meant entirely.

"John, the way Sherlock and I work… we rely on logic. Pure logic. The evidence we see with our own eyes must be always true and we've come to expect this. But last night we found that we can't always trust what our eyes see, we doubted ourselves. For the first time we doubted ourselves…," I told John and he looked over at us in disbelief.

"You can't actually believe that you saw some kind of monster," John told us in exasperation and I shook my head at him and shrugged.

"No, we can't believe that," Sherlock told John and he grinned bitterly for a moment. "But we did see it, so the question is: how? How?" Sherlock asked John before he turned and looked down at me. I tilted my head to the side thoughtful and scrunched up my face.

"Yes. Yeah, right, good. So you've got something to go on, then? Good luck with that," John told us and he turned and started to walk away again. Sherlock turned and called after him.

"Listen, what I said before, John. I meant it," Sherlock told John who stopped and turned back to face us. "We don't have friends," Sherlock told him and he bit his lip briefly. "We've just got one…I've just got one," Sherlock told John who looked away as he took that statement in for a moment, then he nodded briefly, and glanced back at Sherlock and me.

"Right, and what's Lexi then?" John asked Sherlock as the army doctor shot a look over at me.

"More than a friend," Sherlock told him, glancing down at me briefly. John turned and walked away again after that. Sherlock looked down, then instantly raised his head again and his eyes began to flicker in realization of something. "John? John!" Sherlock shouted as he let go of my hand and started to chase after him. I walked slowly behind him, shaking my head ruefully. "You are amazing! You are fantastic!"

"Yes, all right! You don't have to overdo it," John told him, not stopping walking.

"You've never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable," Sherlock told John, catching up and overtaking him, then walking backwards in front of him.

"Cheers. ... What?" John asked Sherlock, happy at first until he realized what Sherlock had said. Sherlock turned round and walked beside him, taking out his own notebook and starting to write in it.

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others," Sherlock said and I shook my head, sticking my hands into the pockets of my coat as I caught up with my boys.

"Hang on – you were saying "Sorry" a minute ago. Don't spoil it. Go on: what have I done that's so bloody stimulating?" John asked him as I slung and arm around John's shoulders and gave him a sideways hug. He looked at me and I grinned at him. He returned the smile before we both looked back at Sherlock, John lightly putting his arm around my waist so that it wasn't crushed to my side.

Sherlock stopped just outside the pub door and turned back to John and me, showing us what he had just written in his notebook:

**HOUND**

"Yeah?" John asked him as I caught on to what he was talking about and grinned at him.

"But what if it's not a word? What if it is individual letters?" Sherlock asked us as I darted over to him as he pulled the notebook back and wrote in it again. I looked over his shoulder at what he wrote before he showed John the page of the notebook again which now read:

**H.O.U.N.D.**

"You think it's an acronym?" John asked us and I nodded at him cheerfully. It actually made a lot of sense if it was. Hound, it was a strange word choice, but if Henry saw it as an acronym he could have cut out the pauses and thought of it as being one word.

"Absolutely no idea but ...," Sherlock said putting his notebook away. He turned towards the pub door and trailed off when he saw a familiar figure standing inside at the bar. I grinned and crowed in delight as I caught sight of the person as well. Wearing grey trousers and a grey shirt with a light jacket over the top, heavily suntanned and with sunglasses on, Detective Inspector Lestrade had his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Greg!" I cried as I darted over to the man and pulled him into a hug which he returned with a hearty chuckle as Sherlock stormed into the pub behind me.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded of him as I stepped back from Lestrade and Sherlock took my hand in his again.

"Well, nice to see you too! I'm on holiday, would you believe?" Lestrade asked us as he threw a look over to me. I shook my head at him and gestured my head towards Sherlock before pulling a little face to let him know that Sherlock was having one of his off days.

"No, I wouldn't," Sherlock told them as I squeezed Sherlock hand.

"How was your holiday?" I asked John, having actually known that he had been on holiday.

"Hullo, John. And very nice thank you for asking Lexi," Lestrade said taking his sunglasses off as John walked over to the bar, throwing a pointed look at Sherlock when he nodded at me slightly.

"Greg!" John greeted him as he passed by him.

"I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?" Lestrade asked us and I raised my eyebrow slightly at him. No one knew we were in the area as he put it save for a few people.

"I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?" Sherlock asked him, picking up on that as I had. As much as I loved Lestrade, his sudden appearance was highly suspicious. John stood next to us with his arms crossed ass he eyed Lestrade as well.

"I've told you, I'm on holiday," Lestrade told us as he tucked his sunglasses into the pocket of his jacket.

"You're brown as a nut. You're clearly just back from your 'holidays'," Sherlock scoffed and I raised my eyebrow at Lestrade, tilting my head at him and giving him a "He has you there" look.

"Yeah, well I fancied another one," Lestrade told us trying to look nonchalant. I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, this is Mycroft, isn't it?" Sherlock asked Greg bitterly and I sighed heavily.

"I wouldn't put it past him," I told Sherlock as we shared a look, the both of us grimacing.

"No, look ...," Lestrade tried to tell us before Sherlock cut him off.

"Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down our handler to ... to spy on us incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?" Sherlock scoffed and I looked up at him, raising my eyebrow at him instead. I knew he wasn't good with remembering people's names as he really didn't care to learn a lot of them but I would have thought he could remember Lestrade's, I did call him Greg often enough.

"That's his name," John told him in exasperation as he pointed at the D.I.

"Is it?" Sherlock asked John, frowning before he looked down at me. I nodded at him and he tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brown slightly.

"Yes – if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler ...," Lestrade told Sherlock and he turned away to pick up his pint from the bar "...and I don't just do what your brother tells me," Lestrade told him and I snorted again and gave Lestrade a pointed look. "I don't," Lestrade told me and I shook my head at him once.

"Actually, you could be just the man we want," John told Lestrade and Lestrade turned to look at him as he took a drink of his pint.

"Why?" Sherlock asked John, frowning in confusion.

"Well, I've not been idle, Sherlock," John told him as he rummaged in his trouser pocket. "I think I might have found something, well Lexi and I might have found something," John said as he showed Sherlock the sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies which he stole off the bar while we were checking in. "Here. Didn't know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant," John told Sherlock and I nodded in agreement with him.

"Excellent," Sherlock told John before he looked down at me and smiled proudly as I grinned up at him.

"Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy," John said as he looked at Greg. Sherlock, Greg, and I exchanged a look, and John slapped his hand down on the bell on top of the bar. "Shop!"

Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg was sitting at a table looking through paperwork, the previous invoices from Undershaw, while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sit at the other side of the table looking at him anxiously. I sat with Lestrade, going through the invoices as John thought that I might be able to help Lestrade get them talking. I looked round to Sherlock who was standing nearby and who had poured a cup of coffee from a filter machine and was stirring it. He ostentatiously taped the drips off the spoon into the cup and then picked it up and carried it over to John, offering it to him. I shook my head and turned back to look down at the paperwork, but I ignored that as I listened to John and Sherlock instead.

"What's this?" John asked Sherlock and I rolled my eyes. It was obvious what it was. That was Jolly Johnson though, asking the most obvious questions.

"Coffee. I made coffee," Sherlock told him and I grinned slightly to myself knowing that he was initiating phase two of our plan.

"You never make coffee," John pointed out. He was wrong about that. Sherlock did make coffee, just not normally for him. He made me coffee or peppermint tea.

"I just did. Don't you want it?" Sherlock asked him and I turned back to look at him, patting Lestrade on the shoulder before I stood up so that I could watch the boys.

"You don't have to keep apologising," John told Sherlock who looked away from him with a hurt expression on his face. I bit back a grin, knowing that he was faking it. John relented and took the cup and saucer from him. "Thanks," John told Sherlock who smiled happily. John took a mouthful and grimaced. "Mm. I don't take sugar..." John said and the hurt expression came back onto Sherlock's face as he looked away again. John looked at his face and seemed to feel that he had no choice but to take another drink which is exactly what Sherlock had planned on.

"These records go back nearly two months," Lestrade said as I crossed my arms over my chest and looked back towards Gary and Billy and fixed them with a hard look before I turned back to the boys. Grimacing at the taste, John put the cup back into the saucer and looked at Sherlock.

"That's nice. That's good," John told Sherlock and he turned away to put the drink down while Greg continued interrogating Gary and Billy.

"Is that when you had the idea, after the TV show went out?" Lestrade asked as I turned back towards the table.

"It's me. It was me," Billy said as he turned to his partner. "I'm sorry, Gary – I couldn't help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Cal's wedding and one thing just led to another...," Billy said as Sherlock put his hands on my shoulders. I dropped my arms to my sides instantly and tilted my head back to see that Sherlock was grinning, not buying it. I looked back at Greg who was equally as disbelieving as we were. "Nice try," Lestrade told them as Sherlock pressed a small kiss to the top of my head and rubbed his hands down my arms, easing the tension in them. I sighed in contentment and looked back up at Sherlock, lifting up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his chin.

"Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? A great big dog run wild up on the moor – it was heaven-sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster," Gary told us and I nodded at that, that did seem more likely than vegan turned carnivore.

"Where do you keep it?" Lestrade asked them and I raised my eyebrow slightly when they peeked up at me.

"There's an old mineshaft. It's not too far. It was all right there," Gary told us looking at us and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

""Was"?" Sherlock asked him, frowning in confusion and Gary sighed.

"We couldn't control the bloody thing. It was vicious," Gary told us, sighing again. "And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er ... you know."

"It's dead?" John asked Gary, furrowing his brows slightly.

"Put down," Gary told him and I tilted my head to the side and frowned thoughtfully.

"Yeah. No choice. So it's over," Billy told us as if that made it okay.

"It was just a joke, you know?" Gary told us and I snorted at that, unamused.

"Yeah, hilarious!" Lestrade told them sarcastically as he stood up and looked down at them angrily. "You've nearly driven a man out of his mind," Lestrade told them before he walked out of the room. John followed him and Sherlock and I watched him go. Sherlock peered into John's coffee cup and then looked back at me before we headed out of the room together. So there had been an actually hound at one point, but it was no more than your average dog. The more we learnt about what was going on here, the harder it got to know what the truth was.

**John's POV**

"You know he's actually pleased you're here?" John told Greg as they walked out of the pub together and Greg threw him a disbelieving look. "Secretly pleased and you know Lexi always loves seeing you."

"Is he? That's nice!" Lestrade told him sarcastically. "Out of the two of them, Lexi tends to be the more obliged to be nice to people but she does have her moments," Lestrade told John, warning him as well. "I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his ... his ...," Lestrade said and he stopped and searched for the right word. John provided an appropriate suggestion for him.

"... Asperger's?" John asked Greg as Sherlock and Lexi came out of the pub together. Sherlock glowered at John, having heard the last word he said. To be honest, John often wondered if Sherlock did have Asperger's and if Lexi had a more mild form of it. While Lexi was the better of the two, she did have her moments as well. She was nicer but she still did the same things as Sherlock.

"So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?" Lestrade asked Sherlock, changing the subject.

"No reason not to," Sherlock told him and Lexi nodded in agreement with him.

"And no reason really for them to lie at least not one that would make sense," Lexi added and Lestrade nodded at her.

"Well, hopefully there's no harm done. Not quite sure what I'd charge him with anyway. I'll have a word with the local Force," Lestrade told them and he nodded at the three of them. "Right, that's that, then. Catch you later," Lestrade told them with a smile and Lexi stepped forward and gave him a hug before stepping back over to stand next to Sherlock. "I'm enjoying this! It's nice to get London out of your lungs!" Lestrade remarked and John watched him walk away, then turned to Sherlock and Lexi.

"So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?" John asked the two of them and Lexi nodded.

"Looks like it," Sherlock told him and John saw Lexi frown and furrow her brow.

"But that wasn't what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog," John said and Lexi looked up at him, still frowning.

"No," Sherlock told him and his gaze became distant. "It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John. Its whole body was glowing," Sherlock told him and he shuddered, shaking off the memory, then turned and walked towards the car park with Lexi. "Lexi and I've got a theory but we need to get back into Baskerville to test it," Sherlock told John who followed after them.

"How? Can't pull off the ID trick again," John asked the two detectives. Lexi might be able to use hers but somehow John rather doubted that it would work for her a second time, especially if Mycroft had discovered what Joanna had done.

"Might not have to," Sherlock called back to him as he got out his phone and hit a speed dial before lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello, brother dear. How are you?" Sherlock asked insincerely into the phone and John shook his head before he followed after the two detectives. This was going to be a long day, he just knew it.


	74. It's Not Okay

**Hello sweeties! So I am overcome with the desire to start Reichenbach. I know you are all probably wondering how that turns out and wondering what happens in season three so...I am loading you up with a triple update today. Yup, three chapters and we begin the Fall on Tuesday. I also will be moving Joanna and Mycroft's relationship along because they are cute and I will be working on prompts for them. The next one is called Count on Me before we get to the Royal Wedding with a cameo from our favourite detective duo. So um try not to squeal so much from the feels. Not so much in this chapter or the next one put well...Lexi meets Mummy Holmes finally. Oh and Marci, do tell me if you like the reference I put in here to the one shot. No notes on the other two chapters so as not to spoil them so just enjoy! Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Two – It's Not Okay<strong>

Mycroft didn't take nearly as much convincing as Sherlock and I thought he was going to but that might have been because Joanna hijacked the call. Quite literally too. She came into Mycroft's office and stole his phone from him and then we could hear Mycroft and her arguing in the background before Mycroft came back on and told us that he would grant us access to Baskerville for one day only. He was quite clear on that fact. Actually they really weren't arguing. It sounded like they were getting along for once but they did have a little scuffle before she convinced him to let us in and gave him back his phone. Joanna called him a grumpy posh man which quieted him rather quickly. Joanna did a bit of hacking to fix my pass and changed Sherlock's so that it said his name and would have his picture when it came up in the computer so at least on that end the system would be fixed. Now that she wasn't working against security we shouldn't have any problems. John wasn't entirely too happy about heading back into Baskerville after our first meeting ended so well, but I assured him that this time around we wouldn't be sneaking in. The three of us headed out to the compound of Baskerville and I shared a look with Sherlock, trying to hide my smirk as I knew what we were about to do. We had already worked our entire plan out together while walking about the village together. At the entrance gates, to Baskerville, Sherlock slowed down and stopped the car like he had the first time around and an armed security man walked over to Sherlock's side while the dog handler and sniffer dog also approached the car.

"Afternoon, sir. If you could turn the engine off," The security guard told Sherlock who handed over his ID pass and switched the car off. "Thank you," The security guard told him before he turned to the back window which I had rolled down. "Afternoon ma'am," The security guard told me as I handed my ID pass over to him as well and he nodded at me as he took it before he went over the gate room to swipe our cards and other soldiers checked the vehicle over from the outside. While this was happening, Sherlock spoke quietly to John as I leaned forward in between the two seats.

"We need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside," Sherlock told John looking back at me and I nodded in agreement with him. We did honestly have to see him for more than just our plan.

"Right," John told Sherlock, nodding.

"Which means you'll have to start the search for the hound," Sherlock told John who was looking around at all the soldiers with guns slightly nervously.

"Okay," John told him, nodding again.

"In the labs; Stapleton's first," Sherlock told him as the guard brought over our ID card and handed them back to us. "Could be dangerous," Sherlock told John quietly and John smiled momentarily at that.

"Well boys," I said and Sherlock and John both turned to look at me as the gate slid open. "This'll be one for the blog," I told them with a grin and Sherlock rolled his eyes while John let out a small chuckle. I sat back in my seat as Sherlock started the car again and drove onto the base. A Hound of Baskerville and a plot so deep in mystery that it was hard to know what was truth and what was fiction. If John didn't have readers after this case then he would never get any. It wasn't our usual sort of case, but it certainly was interesting. I shared a look with Sherlock as we drove into the compound, now to make John believe in the hound as well.

As soon as the three of us got inside the compound and we got through security again, John headed off towards the labs and Sherlock and I were shown to Major Barrymore's office. From what I had deduced about the man, he was used to being in control of what happened around here and all of his people. Our presence at his facility would therefore not be accepted nor would our overtaking of it. I knew to expect some sort of backlash for going over his head. The thing was though, for a man who thought that he knew everything that was going on here, he missed a lot. Dr. Stapleton already did secret experiments right under his nose and it was possible that other scientist were doing so as well. It seemed like an inspection of the facilities was in order and I would be telling Mycroft about everything I found here when we got back to London. Places like this should be closely monitored and I knew that Joanna would most likely make her own little visit down to Baskerville. She just loved secret little government and military bases like this, in fact she liked to perform major inspections of them. Major Barrymore, as I expected was incredibly snarky towards Sherlock and I when we informed him that he was to grant us unlimited access to Baskerville for twenty-four hours.

"Oh, you know I'd love to. I'd love to give you two unlimited access to this place. Why not?!" Major Barrymore asked us sarcastically and I crossed my arms over my chest as I eyed him, one eyebrow raised.

"It's a simple enough request, Major," Sherlock told him as he flicked his gaze over at me, noting my posture and current mood. I understood the fact that people didn't quite like listening to us, but when we proved time and time again that we were generally always right you would think that people would learn to not question us as much.

"And one you would be smart not to ignore," I told Major Barrymore, giving him a dangerous look that I had been used to giving anyone who doubted me when I worked on Bond Air. They didn't always want to listen to me but after I proved my worth they started listening to me alright. If anything positive came out of meeting Irene Adler again it was the fact that I learnt to be stronger and not walked all over and that my relationship with Sherlock came out stronger in the end. I used to let people talk over me or let them act like they were superior to me, but I didn't do that anymore. Joanna had tried to teach me not to let people do that but it had taken standing up to Irene to learn not to let them.

"I've never heard of anything so bizarre," Major Barrymore shot back as he smirked at me, looking down at me because I was the woman trying to give him orders. I raised my eyebrow at him dangerously and stood my ground as Sherlock put a hand on the small of my back and rubbed small circles onto my back to calm me down. I looked back at him and nodded slightly to let him know I was fine. I let my anger get the better of me before and I punched a murderer in the face and broke my knuckles, I liked to think that in the time I had known Sherlock and John I had grown and become better than I had been before when I was alone. My friends would always be the best of me.

"You're to give us twenty-four hours. It's what we've ...," Sherlock told Major Barrymore, pausing momentarily as he looked over at me, searching for the right word. "...negotiated," Sherlock settled on. Mycroft gave us access in exchange for our help on one of his government cases. I accepted those terms and told Sherlock that he didn't have to help me and that if he wanted I could take care of it for the both of us. While he didn't like agreeing to do his brother's work, he told me that he would not let me work the case alone. He wasn't happy about it. In fact I was quite sure that he would raise hell about it when we actually had to go but for now he wasn't kicking up a fuss. Mycroft would make all the flight arrangements for us with a little flight company called MJN Air and it would all be taken care of. At this point in time I wasn't too worried about it.

"Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order but I don't have to like it," Major Barrymore told us sternly and he swung around to his computer on the desk behind him as Sherlock and I started to leave his office. "I don't know what you two expect to find here anyway," Major Barrymore asked us and we stopped.

"Perhaps the truth," Sherlock asked him, turning back and Major Barrymore turned round to face us again.

"About what? Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me," Major Barrymore scoffed and Sherlock frowned as I fixed the Major with a pointed look, tilting my head to the side. "You two are one of the conspiracy lot, aren't you?" Major Barrymore asked us with a grin and Sherlock rolled his eyes at him as I snorted. "Well, then, go ahead, seek them out: the monsters, the death rays, the aliens."

"Have you got any of those?" Sherlock asked him nonchalantly and Barrymore rolled his eyes at us. "Oh, just wondering," Sherlock told him as I gritted my teeth.

"A couple. Crash landed here in the sixties," Major Barrymore told us sarcastically, leaning forward secretively. "We call them Abbott and Costello," He said as he straightened up and turned back to his computer. "Good luck, Mr Holmes, Ms, MacKenna."

"Major Barrymore, I want you to listen to me very closely," I said and the Major turned around again to look at me, raising his eyebrow at me. Oh how precious, I practically invented that look, it did nothing to deter me. "Whether you like this order or not does not pertain to the fact that we have been granted access to your facilities. We're not part of the conspiracy lot as you so eloquently put it, we're consulting detectives. Ask yourselves how we managed to get access to your compound and then reconsider your present attitude towards the matter," I told Major Barrymore and Sherlock slipped his hand into mine. We turned on our heels and walked out of the man's office, Sherlock smirking as the Major stared after us with a look of bewilderment and shock that someone had just spoken to him like that.

"So?" Sherlock asked me as we walked down the hallway together and I looked over at the smirking detective.

"Oh shut up," I told him, nudging his shoulder and he chuckled before I joined him, shaking my head.

"You like doing that," Sherlock pointed out before he pulled me to a stop and slid his arms around my waist, forcing me to look up at him. "I find it rather sexy," Sherlock told me and I grinned back at him.

"Mmmm, it's why I do it," I told him, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him. He surprised me by deepening the kiss and I opened my mouth when he licked my bottom lip. His tongue tangled with mine and I carded my fingers though his curls as I moaned slightly into the kiss. When we broke apart I grinned up at his slightly flushed face. "Come along Mr. Holmes, I believe we have work to do," I told Sherlock, lacing our fingers together as I took his hand.

"I think so Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock said as we started walking again and I raised my eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Has there been a wedding I didn't know about Mr. Holmes?" I asked Sherlock and he looked down at me, smirking, his eyes unreadable.

"Not yet," Sherlock told me, his voice different than normal before he turned back away from me. I tilted my head to the side and shook it before I looked up at him again and smiled. Mrs. Holmes, I kind of liked the sound of that.

Third Person POV

At Henry's house, the man was in his sitting room holding a framed photograph of himself when he was about five years old standing in between his parents. As he clutched the photograph he gazed into the distance with a lost expression on his face but gradually the exhaustion began to claim him and his eyelids began to droop. Eventually his eyes closed completely – and immediately the red glowing eyes of the hound flashed in his mind. Gasping in horror, Henry opened his eyes again, and then wailed in anguish.

"Oh, God!" Henry sobbed, clutching at his head and then he buried his face in his hands and wept in despair.

At Baskerville, the lift doors opened into the first lab that the three of them had visited but this time only John was walking out of the elevator. He didn't exactly like going alone to search for this thing but he didn't wasn't to make out that he had a problem with it. Sherlock and Lexi were counting on him to start their investigation and he wasn't about to let them down. They had both been really shaken up by whatever they had seen. John wasn't sure what exactly they had seen or what happened out there in the Hallow, but Sherlock and Lexi believed that whatever it was real so….Walking forward John saw that there were only two scientists in the room and even they were leaving through a side door. One of them turned off the main overhead lights as he left, which threw the room into darkness, lit dimly by only a few arc lights on stands which were dotted around and the screens of some computers. John looked around a little anxiously when he realized how spooky and quiet it was, then he walked towards a door at the far end of the lab, the door which Doctor Frankland came out of on the first occasion that they met him. He had Lexi's security pass in his pocket and he took it out and swiped it through the reader. Joanna and Lexi had worked together to rework Baskervilles security for a little while so that the doors only required one pass and not two. Apparently, the two of them together were a force to be reckoned with and John could now understand why Mycroft didn't exactly like the fact that they were friends. They were a bad influence upon each other. John pulled the door open when it unlocked and walked inside, ignoring the handwritten notice stuck on the outside which read:

KEEP OUT

UNLESS YOU WANT

A COLD!

John walked through the decontamination zone to the door at the far end and tapped a finger on the glass window in the door. When nobody replied he pushed the door open and walked into a room which had a glass-walled section on the left hand side. There was a glass cage inside the sealed section but there didn't appear to be anything inside. In front of him was a desk with equipment, folders, a phone and various other things on it, and above the desk were small plastic tubes coming out of the wall and dials which indicated that these tubes dispensed various gases. John opened the door of a small cupboard set into the desk but found nothing of interest so he continued looking around. On the right hand side of the room were large metal pipes which presumably also carried gases. One of them was leaking slightly. John peered around a little longer and then walked out of the room and went back through the decontamination zone and into the lab. He really wasn't sure what he should be looking for. Just to his right was a large arc light on a stand. As John turned to his right to close the door behind him, the thing lit up and nine bright bulbs shone straight into his eyes. He squinched his eyes shut and turned his head away, grimacing at the pain.

"Oh, no! Jesus! Ow!" John said, opening his eyes a little. He squinted and tried to see into the room. All the other lights in the room appeared to have come on as well and with his own vision blanked out by the arc lights there was wall of whiteness all around him. Just then a loud insistent alarm began to blare into the room. John groaned and covered his ears, completely overwhelmed by the bright light, lack of vision, and the noise. Grimacing, he started to make his way across the lab to the lift, holding his hand up in front of his eyes as the after-image of the arc lights keeps blanking out his vision. Finally reaching the other end of the lab, he pulled out the ID card and swiped it through the reader. It whined and told him "ACCESS DENIED". He stared in disbelief and swiped the card again but it whined and gave him the same message. Holding one hand to an ear while the alarm continued to blare, he tried once more.

"Come on," John begged when the same whine and message were repeated. John glared at it in exasperation and at that moment all the lights went out and the alarm droned into silence. The room was now under emergency lighting only, which was dark red and barely illuminated the area.

"What the f...?" John muttered under his breath. If Lexi had been here she would have yelled at him for his language. He scrabbled in his pocket for his flashlight and switched it on, although its beam wasn't very helpful against the continued after-image of the arc lights which were still affecting his retinas. "Hello?" John called out and he screwed his eyes shut for a moment in a failed attempt to clear the after-images.

As John opened his eyes again and peered through the bright dots, a shadow seemed to flicker across the room some distance away. John blinked and looked around the room, the after-images still clouding his ability to see anything clearly. He lowered his head into his hand and rubbed his eyes for a few seconds, then raised his head again, realizing how ominously quiet it now was in the lab. But that didn't last long, because something rattled to his right. He walked forward cautiously, looking a little anxiously at the row of large cages which he now realized were all covered with sheeting which obscured their contents. The rattle sounded again and John walked slowly to the first of the cages, turning once to check behind him, then grabbed hold of the sheeting and pulled it back to show that the first cage was empty. Pulling the sheet back down again, he walked to the next cage as something clinked near the lift doors. He swung around to look and shined his torch in that direction but couldn't see anything. He turned again and grabbed the sheet over the second cage, tossing that back. Again the cage was empty, and the door was open. He moved on to the third cage and threw back the sheet. The monkey inside hurled itself at him, screaming as it grabbed at the bars. John dropped the sheet and stumbled back several paces, breathing heavily. He walked to the final cage and looked at it, then slowly his gaze was pulled down to the bottom of the bars where the sheeting had been pushed back a little. The door of the cage was slightly ajar and the bottom of it had been bent back by something that must be incredibly strong. As John stared at the bent bars in disbelief, a low savage growl sounded behind him. John spun around, his eyes going wide as he shined his flashlight around but he couldn't see anything. He saw the nearby door to the Cold Lab and walked briskly over to it, taking out his ID card and swiping it. The reader whined its ACCESS DENIED alert.

"No, come on, come on," John pleaded and he swiped the card again. Again it refused to open the door. He stared in anguish, then pulled his mobile out of his pocket while shining his light around the room. He hit the speed dial and held the phone to his ear as it began to ring out and continued to ring, "No, you ... Don't be ridiculous, pick up," John said as he hung up and hit his second speed dial which just continued to ring out like the first. Eventually he gave up and switched his phone off again. "Oh, dammit!" John swore it a whisper, putting the phone back in his pocket as he looked across the room determinedly. "Right," John said softly to himself, trying to shine his torch in all directions at once and making his way cautiously around all the workstations and islands. He hurried as quickly as he could towards the side door through which the scientists left earlier. As he walked, the distinctive sound of claws on floor tiles skittered across the room. "Oh sh...," John swore under his breath. Ducking low, he hurried to the door and took out Lexi's card again. "Okay ...," John whispered to himself.

As he reached towards the card reader, the claws trotted across the floor to his right, and then something snarled. John turned and stared, breathing heavily, as there were more sounds nearby, claws on the floor tiles, equipment being pushed aside, and then a low ominous growl. John shoved the card back into his pocket and then clapped his hand over his mouth to dampen his own panicked breathing while the growl rumbled on. As the growl finally fell silent, John made a break for it and raced across the room, running towards the cages and pulling open the door of one of the empty ones before he scrambled inside, slammed the door shut and bolted it before reaching through the bars and pulling the sheet down over the cage. Elsewhere in the lab, whatever was making the sounds snarled as John retreated from the door and squatted down against the side bars, wrapping his hand around his mouth again and trying not to sob as the creature growled again. Suddenly John's phone started to ring. Gasping, he scrambled in his pocket to retrieve it. He answered it on the second ring and held it up towards his mouth. He kept his voice as soft as he possibly could but even at such a low volume his terror was still evident.

"It's here. It's in here with me," John said softly as he breathed heavily.

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked him as he heard Lexi murmuring something quietly in the background.

"Get me out, Sherlock, Lexi. You have got to get me out. The big lab: the first lab that we saw," John told them quietly, still breathing heavily. Outside, the creature growled and John whined loudly in terror and clapped his hand over his mouth again.

"John? John what is it?" Lexi asked him, sounding concerned as he heard her move closer to the phone which Sherlock probably had over speaker.

"Now, Sherlock, Lexi. Please," John told them lowering his hand and keeping his voice no more than a whisper.

"All right, we'll find you. Keep talking," Sherlock told him, his voice calm and direct.

"I can't. It'll hear me," John told them softly.

"John, just keep talking. Now calm down and tell us what you're seeing," Lexi directed him and John took a deep breath, listening to Lexi's instructions. Throughout the conversation John had been peering through the small gap in the sheeting but the room was so dimly lit that he hadn't been able to see anything. "John?" Lexi asked as the creature snarled again.

"Yes, I'm here," John told her softly, assuring her that he was still alright.

"What can you see?" Sherlock asked him insistently. Getting onto his knees, John crawled closer to the gap in the sheeting, trying to keep his terrified breathing under control.

"I don't know. I don't know, but I can hear it," John told them in a whisper and the creature growled loudly. "Did you hear that?" John asked the two detectives, terrified.

"Stay calm, stay calm. Can you see it?" Sherlock asked him as John peered into the gloom.

"John, I know it's difficult, but stay calm. Deep breaths. In and out. Now, like Sherlock asked, can you see it?" Lexi asked him, her voice steady and calm and oddly comforting.

"No. I can ...," John said quietly. He trailed off, then slowly straightened up, retreated backwards and sat back against the side bars while his face filled with absolute horror. "I can see it," John told them in a whisper. He stared ahead of himself, his eyes full of dread as a shadow began to move on the other side of the sheeting. "It's here," John told them flatly. The shadow moved closer as the creature growled once more. "It's here," John repeated flatly as the shadow moved closer ... and then the sheeting was tugged upwards and the lights came on in the lab at the same moment as Sherlock's face appeared on the other side of the cage, looking anxiously down at John as he pulled the door open and walked inside.

"Are you all right?" Sherlock asked him worriedly as Lexi came running down from the other end of the lab where she had flipped the lights on. John's eyes widened in utter bewilderment as Sherlock bent down to him and put a hand onto his shoulder. "John ...," Sherlock said, trailing off as Lexi skidded to a stop outside the cage.

"Jesus Christ ...," John said as he grabbed the bars and pulled himself to his feet, hurrying out of the cage and stuffing his phone away as he turned back to his friends. "It was the hound, Sherlock, Lexi. It was here. I swear it, Sherlock. It must ...," John said still breathless and panic-stricken. He looked around the lab which, now fully illuminated, showed that there was nowhere that a large monster could be hiding. "It must ...," John said, his voice becoming high-pitched. "Did ... did ... did you two see it? You must have!" John asked them as Sherlock held out a placatory hand towards him. Lexi grabbed John and gave him a tight hug which he returned just as tightly before she pulled back and rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"It's all right. It's okay now," Sherlock told him as Lexi continued to try and calm him down and comfort him.

"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT OKAY! I saw it. I was wrong!" John yelled high-pitched, frantic, and hysterical. Sherlock shrugged while John breathed heavily.

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions," Sherlock told him while Lexi stepped back from him and watched him closely.

"What?" He asked the two of them, looking between the two detectives in bewilderment.

"What exactly did you see John?" Lexi asked him as she and Sherlock subconsciously leaned in more towards each other.

"I told you: I saw the hound," John told them, his heart still beating quickly.

"Huge; red eyes?" Sherlock asked him and John nodded slightly.

"Yes."

"Glowing?" Lexi asked him, raising an eyebrow slightly and John nodded a bit again.

"Yeah," John told them and Sherlock shook his head.

"No," Sherlock told him quickly and John looked round at him in confusion.

"What?" He asked the detectives as Lexi tilted her head to the side, looking between him and Sherlock.

"We made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because we told you. It's called the power of suggestion in psychology. We suggested something to you and therefore you saw it too because that is what you believed it looked like because it was what we said we had seen," Lexi explained to him as Sherlock nodded in agreement with her.

"You have been drugged. We have all been drugged," Sherlock him and John looked at him in bewilderment.

"Drugged?" John asked the two of them and Lexi nodded in confirmation.

"Can you walk?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi watched him in concern.

"'Course I can walk," John told him his voice shaky.

"Come on, then. It's time to lay this ghost," Sherlock told them and he reached for Lexi's hand. She slid her hand into his and laced their fingers together before they turned and headed for the door. Still trying to catch his breath, John looked around the lab again, then stumbled after Sherlock and Lexi.

In a small room full of cages, Doctor Stapleton was examining a fluffy white rabbit on a metal table. She looked up when Sherlock and Lexi walked through the door, followed by John. The two detectives were standing very close to one another, holding hands. It was easy enough for her to tell that they were in some sort of relationship. They stood a lot closer to one another now than they had before.

"Oh. Back again? What's on your mind this time?" Dr. Stapleton asked them, not at all perturbed by them being in her lab.

"Murder, Doctor Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder," Sherlock told her as he reached back and turned off the light switch by the door. The limited lighting coming from the window at the end of the room was just enough to show that the rabbit was brightly glowing green. Sherlock turned the lights back on again. "Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell or shall we?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised her eyebrow.

"Somehow, I don't think finding out her Mum killed her pet rabbit will be taken so well, even from us, though she does deserve to know the truth," Lexi told her and Sherlock smiled unpleasantly at Dr. Stapleton as Lexi fixed her with a hard look. Dr. Stapleton sighed, knowing that they were right.

"Okay. What do you want?" Dr. Stapleton asked them and Lexi smiled at her a bit.

"Can we borrow your microscope?" Sherlock asked her and Dr. Stapleton stared back at him in confusion. She nodded and Sherlock threw a smirk at her before he grabbed Lexi's hand and pulled her out into the larger lab.

The two detectives pulled of their coats and got to work as Lexi found what Sherlock needed, passing them back to the consulting detective who got started immediately. They sat down on the bench and Sherlock gazed into a microscope. Unhappy with what he was seeing, he turned away from the microscope and crushed something which looked crystalline into smaller pieces with a little hammer. Lexi frowned and when he gestured for her to take a look, she got up and sat on his lap before peering into the microscope. Time passed and they varied between sitting with their backs to the microscope, Sherlock's hands folded in the prayer position in front of him as he thought, or taking turns gazing into the microscope, or scribbling chemical formulas onto the desk with different coloured marker pens. So far they were getting nowhere with this and neither Lexi nor Sherlock could find what they were looking for. Nearby, John sat on a stool with his head propped on his hand, gazing blankly into space and Doctor Stapleton was standing near him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dr. Stapleton asked John who looked up at her, blinking. "You look very peaky," She told him and John shook his head slightly.

"No, I'm all right," John told her, assuring himself of this fact as well.

"It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you're interested," Dr. Stapleton told him suddenly.

"What?" John asked her in confusion, not understanding what she was talking about.

"In the rabbits," Dr. Stapleton told him and John hummed in realization.

"Mmm, right, yes," John told her, being polite, but not exactly caring about how or why she made a rabbit glow in the dark.

"Aequoria Victoria, if you really want to know," Dr. Stapleton told him proudly and John looked up at her again.

"Why?" John asked her, at least to know why it was so important to her.

"Why not? We don't ask questions like that here. It isn't done," Dr. Stapleton told John. A short distance from them, Sherlock was looking increasingly irritated as Sherlock picked up another slide and put it under the microscope. Lexi had one hand On Sherlock's knee and she was writing out different chemical formulas on the lab table next to him, muttering under her breath.

"There was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go," Dr. Stapleton told John, not sounding at all concerned over the fact that she had murdered her daughter's rabbit.

"Your compassion's overwhelming," John told her cynically.

"I know. I hate myself sometimes," Dr. Stapleton told him mockingly.

"So, come on then. You can trust me – I'm a doctor. What else have you got hidden away up here?" John asked her as Sherlock took the slide he was looking at out of the microscope in exasperation and Dr. Stapleton sighed before she answered John.

"Listen: if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are," Dr. Stapleton told John. Sherlock was staring intently at his latest slide, then his eyes slid across to a nearby read-out on a screen. Lexi looked up at it as well before she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek and then got up from the bench, walking over to John and Dr. Stapleton with her arms crossed over her chest.

"And cloning?" John asked her, looking over at Lexi once and Dr. Stapleton nodded.

"Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?" Dr. Stapleton asked him and John nodded slightly.

"Human cloning?" John asked her and Dr. Stapleton looked back at him and shrugged.

"Why not?" Dr. Stapleton asked him and Lexi's eyebrow raised as she pulled a face behind the woman's back.

"What about animals? Not sheep ... big animals," John asked her as Lexi shook her head and walked back over to Sherlock, putting her hands on his shoulders and rubbing them to ease the tension. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head before carding her fingers through his hair. He looked up at her briefly, acknowledging her before he continued working.

"Size isn't a problem, not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law, and both those things can be ... very flexible. But not here – not at Baskerville," Dr. Stapleton told him as Sherlock stood up furiously and snatched the latest slide out from under the microscope and hurled it against the nearest wall. Lexi sighed and fixed him with a look as she crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrow at him.

"Was that really necessary?" She asked Sherlock as she gave him a pointed look.

"It's not there!" Sherlock told her lividly and she sighed.

"Jesus!" John exclaimed, startled and Lexi moved towards Sherlock's side.

"And that gives you cause to break things why?" Lexi asked him and Sherlock looked back at her as she uncrossed her arms and shook her head at him.

"Nothing there! Doesn't make any sense," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded at him as if she had been expecting him to not find anything.

"What were you expecting to find?" Dr. Stapleton asked him in exasperation.

"A drug, of course. There has to be a drug – a hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind. There's no trace of anything in the sugar," Sherlock told them while pacing back and forth in front of Lexi.

"Sugar?" John asked him in confusion.

"The sugar, yes. It's a simple process of elimination. Lexi and I saw the hound – saw it as our imaginations expected us to see it: a genetically engineered monster. But we knew we couldn't believe the evidence of our own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight – he saw it too but you didn't, John. You didn't see it. Now, we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing: you don't take sugar in your coffee," Sherlock explained to them and Lexi ran her hand through her hair.

"I see. So ...," John said before Sherlock cut him off.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen – his sugar," Sherlock said and he glared down at the microscope. It's perfectly all right."

"But maybe it's not a drug," John told them as Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully before shaking it.

"No, it has to be a drug," Sherlock said and he sat on the stool again with his head buried in his hands. He lowered his hands a little but kept his head bowed and his eyes closed.

"Sherlock's right," Lexi said as she walked over to him and carded her fingers through his curls to try and calm him down a bit. "The power of suggestion is a strong thing, but not strong enough on its own to create these sort of physical manifestation's. The power of suggestion in combination with a drug, yes," Lexi explained to them and John nodded slightly, understanding her a little bit.

"But how did it get into our systems. How?" Sherlock asked them as he slowly began to raise his head, still keeping his eyes closed. "There has to be something …," Sherlock said as the word 'hound' kept drifting across his mind's eye. He turned his head repeatedly as he tried to follow the words inside his head. "... something ... ah, something ...," Sherlock muttered as he opened his eyes. "...something buried deep," Sherlock finished, taking a sharp breath through his nose, he turned and pointed imperiously at Stapleton. "Get out," Sherlock told her and John.

"What?" Dr. Stapleton asked him in confusion.

"Get out. I need to go to my mind palace," Sherlock repeated and John sagged on his seat with an "Oh, not again" look on his face.

"Your what?" Dr. Stapleton asked him, but Sherlock had already turned his head away again and was staring ahead of himself. John got off his stool and picked up his jacket.

"He's not gonna be doing much talking for a while. We may as well go," John told her as Sherlock was breathing deeply, focusing his thoughts. Stapleton followed John as he headed for the door, Lexi bending down to kiss Sherlock on the top of her head before she started following John out.

"His what?" Dr. Stapleton asked John, still confused.

"Oh, his mind palace. It's a memory technique – a sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location – it doesn't have to be a real place – and then you deposit memories there that ... Theoretically, you can never forget anything; all you have to do is find your way back to it," John explained to her the way Lexi had explained it to him when he had asked her about it before.

"So this imaginary location can be anything – a house or a street," Dr. Stapleton said and John voiced that she was right. "But he said "palace". He said it was a palace," Dr. Stapleton told him in bewilderment.

"Yeah, well, he would, wouldn't he?' John told her looking back towards Sherlock for a moment who suddenly looked up.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, directing his question to Lexi who turned around and frowned at him in confusion.

"You said to get out?" Lexi told him, pointing back to the lab door which John and Dr. Stapleton had paused by, waiting for her.

"I didn't mean you," Sherlock told her as he stood up and walked towards her. "You help me think," Sherlock told her as Lexi walked back over to him, meeting him half way. "I need you here," Sherlock told her as he reached out and she put her hands in his allowing the consulting detective to draw her closer to him as she nodded.

"Then let's get started," Lexi told him with a grin, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his jawbone. Sherlock smiled slightly as he looked down at her and John and Dr. Stapleton could both see how much Sherlock loved her even if he didn't say it out loud. Their love was in their actions, not their words. John and Dr. Stapleton looked at them for one more moment before John led her out of the room so that the two detectives could work.

Sherlock gazed ahead of himself, his mind turned inwards as he walked through his memories unearthing everything he could recall in connection with the word "Liberty". He was trying to not get distracted by Lexi who he had sit on a stool in front of him so that she would be in his line of sight. While he was going through his own memories, Lexi was going through her memories as well. While Sherlock accessed different examples of the word and found them unsuitable, he physically flicked them away with his hands and pulled in new variations before brushing those aside.

Liberty

Pattern

Liberty London

Liberté *Egalité*Fraternité

Liberty Bell Sherlock thought as he heard a bell ring.

Liberty Bell March he thought next as he heard the song in his mind.

John Philip Sousa

He saw the word liberty written in different fonts next, including Lexi's handwriting. He flicked that thought away quickly, needing to focus and not get distracted by her, even if he could smell the scent that was so particularly her only a few feet from him. The word "hound" crept into his mind and drifted across it as he temporarily gave up on "Liberty" and shifts to "In", adding various letters onto the word to form new ones.

In

Inn

India

Ingolstadt

Indium atomic number = 49

Flicking that line of thought away, he started calling up images of large dogs, running through various breeds.

Ridgeback

Wolfhound

He was temporarily distracted by the image of Elvis Presley starting to sing "Hound Dog". Irritated, he brushed that aside and tried to pull in all three words – Liberty, In, Hound – simultaneously. His eyes suddenly snapped open and he jolted three times as if he was being repeatedly struck by lightning as the words finally crashed into place:

Liberty,

Indiana

H.O.U.N.D.

He sank back on his seat for a moment before he stood up as Lexi's eyes shot open as well.

"Liberty, Indiana. Project H.O.U.N.D," Lexi said and Sherlock nodded at her as she stood up. Sherlock pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair for a moment before he pulled back from her and slipped and arm around her waist as they headed out of the lab to find John and Dr. Stapleton.

Lexi's POV

We found John and Dr. Stapleton again and had Dr. Stapleton lead us back to Major Barrymore's office after we explained to her and John what we had figured out. Now that Sherlock and I had found the connection between the Liberty and In that Henry had seen along with why he had called it a hound, we needed to get to a computer to find out more about Project H.O.U.N.D. Sherlock and I had heard about it before but neither of us knew much about it. I knew it had been scraped before it ever really began but why it had was unknown to us. How Henry had made a connection to it was also a mystery and one we needed to solve before we could continue with the case. Something a lot bigger than just a genetic experiment was going on here at Baskerville and whatever it was had been going on for years. Dr. Stapleton used her card to swipe us into the area leading to Major Barrymore's office. She was pleased with the fact that she could move freely without needing someone else with her and I told her that I would look into getting the security here toned back a bit. After all it was because of me that it had been increased. As we walked into the room, Sherlock pointed back to the door we had just came through.

"John," Sherlock told him and John nodded at him in understanding.

"Yeah, I'm on it," John told us and he turned back to keep an eye on the door while Stapleton walked over to sit down at a computer.

"Project HOUND. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana," Sherlock said as we walked over and stood behind Stapleton as she typed her User ID onto the computer, then added her password. A request to "Enter Search String" came up and she looked up at Sherlock and I. Sherlock dictated the letters to her. "H, O, U, N, D," Sherlock told her and she typed in the letters and hit Enter. A message came up saying "NO ACCESS. CIA Classified" and requested an authorisation code.

"That's as far as my access goes, I'm afraid," Dr. Stapleton told us and John looked over at her from the door.

"Well, there must be an override and password," John said and I nodded at that. There was always an override and a password for everything.

"I imagine so, but that'd be Major Barrymore's," Dr. Stapleton told us and Sherlock turned to look at me.

"Do you think that you could get into it?" Sherlock asked me and I shrugged at him, tilting my head to the side thoughtfully.

"Probably, might take a minute," I told him and Dr. Stapleton laughed.

"You don't honestly think you can get into the system," Dr. Stapleton scoffed and Sherlock fixed her with a hard gaze.

"She doesn't think she can, she knows she can," Sherlock told Dr. Stapleton darkly before he looked at me and smiled at me proudly.

"Who do you think was the cause for the extra security measures around here?" I asked Dr. Stapleton as I cracked my knuckled and pulled back Major Barrymore's chair, sitting in front of his computer. "Sorry about that," I told her when she looked at me in shock. "Did a bit of hacking, got caught, but I digress," I told her before I looked back at Sherlock. "Let's see how well I taught you," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before he spun around and walked into Barrymore's office.

"Password, password, password," Sherlock muttered as he switched on the lights in the room. I spun back to face him as he sat down at the desk. "He sat here when he thought it up," Sherlock said as I watched him proudly. I had been teaching him how to hack, especially passwords. So far he was able to get into John's laptop and past mine. Sherlock folded his hands in front of his mouth and he slowly spun a full circle on the chair, looking around the office as he went. Stapleton walked to the doorway after I got up and walked over to stand behind Sherlock on the chair. "Describe him to me," Sherlock told Dr. Stapleton.

"You've seen him," She told Sherlock and I and I shook my head.

"No, not what he looks like, what he is like. His personality, the things he likes, stands for, how he thinks," I told Dr. Stapleton as I turned around to look at her.

"Er, he's a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort of man they'd have sent into Suez," Dr. Stapleton told us and I nodded at her and Sherlock smiled slightly.

"Good, excellent. Old-fashioned, traditionalist; not the sort that would use his children's names as a password," Sherlock said as he gestured towards the children's drawings pinned on the board above the desk. It just proved that you never knew someone until you got to know them better. For example, we knew he was a father, but he didn't seem like the overly sentimental type that would hang his children's pictures up. Looks could be deceiving and so could attitude. Sherlock seemed like an arrogant prick as John would put it, but I knew that he was far more than that. He did actually care even if he acted like he didn't. "He loves his job; proud of it and this is work-related, so what's at eye level?" Sherlock asked as he rapidly scanned around everything in the room without altering the angle of his eyes. Gesturing to his left Sherlock pointed out what was at eye level. "Books," He said before he pointed to the left. "Jane's Defence Weekly – bound copies," Sherlock said before he looked to the right again and at the subject matter of some of the books on the bookshelf. "Hannibal; Wellington; Rommel; Churchill's "History of the English-Speaking Peoples" – all four volumes," Sherlock said and he stood up to look at a bronze bust on a shelf. "Churchill – well, he's fond of Churchill,' Sherlock said and he looked back to the bookcases again. "Copy of "The Downing Street Years"; one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher," Sherlock said and he looked down to a framed photograph on the desk of a man in uniform standing with his teenage son. "Mid nineteen eighties at a guess. Father and son: Barrymore senior," Sherlock said, looking at the uniform of the older man. "Medals: Distinguished Service Order," Sherlock told us, looking round to John who had come to stand at the office door.

"That date? I'd say Falklands veteran," John told us and I nodded at him in agreement.

"Right. So Thatcher's looking a more likely bet than Churchill," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him. "Lexi?" He asked me to see how he had done and I grinned at him proudly.

"Very nicely done love. You have the makings of an excellent hacker. Mycroft would be pleased," I told Sherlock with a laugh and we walked out of the office and headed over to the computer.

"So that's the password?" Dr. Stapleton asked us and I shook my head at her as I sat back down at the chair in front of the computer.

"No. A man like Major Barrymore would only use a first name," I told Dr. Stapleton. "It's why we needed you to describe him. We needed to understand how he thought," I told her, starting to type Margaret Thatcher's first name into the "Auth code" box but I stopped when I reached the penultimate letter. I realized that that was not the correct password. Major Barrymore was smart and secretive, he would have used something less obvious. Margaret could be easy enough to guess, we had, but someone might not expect him to be brilliant enough to use a nickname. I narrowed my eyes and deleted everything back to the first letter, then retyped it as "Maggie". Looking into the screen and gritting my teeth ever so slightly, I hits Enter, hoping that I had been right. The computer beeped happily and announced "OVERRIDE 300/421 ACCEPTED. Loading ..." I looked back up at Sherlock and grinned as he looked down at me proudly. I rolled to the side and let him take over use of the computer now that it was unlocked.

John walked over to us from the door to look at the screen. After a slight pause information began to stream across the screen as everything related to Project H.O.U.N.D. became available to us. Sherlock's concentration became intense while we both took it all in, focusing on certain phrases like "extreme suggestibility", "fear and stimulus", "conditioned terror", "aerosol dispersal". I raced over the information quickly, storing it all away as I used my ability to read quickly to read down the page. A photograph came up of the project team posing happily together and Sherlock and I identified the five project leaders amongst the larger group: Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O'Mara and Leonard Hansen. Clearing the photo from the screen Sherlock rearranged the names into another order:

Leonard Hansen

Jack O'Mara

Mary Uslowski

Rick Nader

Elaine Dyson

Standing beside us, Doctor Stapleton finally began to understand what Sherlock and I had already figured out.

"HOUND," Dr. Stapleton said and she stared in growing horror at the screen as more information from the project appeared and words and phrases were highlighted such as "Paranoia", "Severe frontal lobe damage", "Blood-brain" "Gross cranial trauma", "Dangerous acceleration", "Multiple homicide", accompanied by photographs of some of the subjects of the project screaming insanely.

"Jesus," John said softly and I nodded at him. There was a reason that this project was scrapped. It should have never started to begin with.

"Project HOUND: a new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus; but they shut it down and hid it away in 1986," Sherlock told us still scanning the information as it flowed across the screen.

"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on," Dr. Stapleton said and I nodded at her.

"And because of what they did to others. Prolonged exposure to the drug drove them insane. It made them almost uncontrollably aggressive," I added and John looked over at Sherlock and me.

"So someone's been doing it again – carrying on the experiments?" John asked us and I hummed in agreement with him. It looked like it and they had been working on it for years, at least since Henry had been a boy.

"Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years," Sherlock said as he looked back at me.

"Had to have been for the last twenty years if Henry saw it," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me, his eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully.

"Who?" Dr. Stapleton asked us and John nodded at the screen, indicating the names of the project leaders.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked her and she shook her head.

"No, not a thing," She told us and I tilted my head tot eh side thoughtfully.

"Five principal scientists, twenty years ago," Sherlock sighed and reached across and pulled up the photograph of the team again and zoomed in on individuals within it. The closer footage showed that they are all wearing identical sweatshirts. Looming out of a diamond pattern in the centre of the sweatshirts was a large snarling wolf's head and the legend "H.O.U.N.D." was printed underneath. There was some smaller text underneath but it was not yet clear what it said. I continued to zoom in and out of the photo to look more closely at the faces.

"Maybe they weren't one of the lead scientists on the project though. Maybe they were someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986…," I told them and Sherlock looked down at me curiously as I stopped when I saw a face I recognized. I pointed it out to Sherlock and he rolled his eyes a little as he realized the truth.

"Maybe somebody who says "cell phone" because of time spent in America. You remember, John?" Sherlock asked John, who hummed in agreement as he probably no doubted recalled when Dr. Frankland gave us his cell number. Cell, not mobile because he spent time in America. "He gave us his number in case we needed him," Sherlock said as Dr. Stapleton stared at the photo on the screen.

"Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn't even work on ... I mean, he's a virologist. This was chemical warfare," Dr. Stapleton said in confusion and I nodded at her as I gritted my teeth.

"It's where he started, though ... and he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work," Sherlock said as I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

"I knew that something was off about him when we met. I had a feeling, but I didn't know what it was that I found wrong about him. Then there was the fact that he seemed overly helpful. I brushed it off as him just being a fan of John's blog at first. He wanted to help us with the investigation to say he had, but now I realize that that was his way of avoiding suspicion. If he seemed helpful we would have never suspected him. For someone who claims to read John's blog he doesn't know us to well. He never expected us to find out about Project HOUND," I told Sherlock and John who nodded at me as they came to the realization that I had.

"Nice of him to give us his number," Sherlock told us as he reached into his pocket and took out Bob's card. "Let's arrange a little meeting," Sherlock said and we walked away from the computer together. I turned back to look at John who had walked closer to the computer and looked at the last image, a very tight close-up of one of the sweatshirts. Stitched below the "H.O.U.N.D." legend was the name of the American town and state where the project was based: "Liberty, In". It was how Henry had seen it as a child. The drug made people highly suggestive. He saw the picture of the snarling dog and the word hound and his mind created a monster to account for his father's death. My guess was that Henry's father found out something about Frankland that he shouldn't have. John's phone suddenly began to ring. He dug his mobile out of his pocket and frowned at the number on the screen, apparently not recognizing it.

"Hello?" John answered it and I titled my head to the side as I watched him frown. "Who's this?" John asked and he listened for a second before John looked round at Sherlock and me. "It's Louise Mortimer," He told us before he spoke into the phone. "Louise, what's wrong?" John asked her and I frowned as John listened to her looking concerned. "What?" John asked her suddenly sounding shocked. "Where-where are you?" John asked her after a pause. "Right: stay there. We'll get someone to you, okay?" John told her before he lowered his phone and began to text, but I had already pulled my phone out when he asked where she was and had texted Lestrade.

"Greg is already heading over to her now John," I told the army doctor and he stopped typing and looked up to me as I turned my phone around to show him.

"Henry?" Sherlock asked John, drawing John back to the conversation and away from me as he was staring at me in shock.

"He's attacked her," John told us and I nodded at him.

"And I assume he's gone. Makes since. I thought that this case might trigger some memories for him. Most likely the drug is starting to affect his mind, cause him to become psychotic," I told the boys and John hummed in agreement with me.

"There's only one place he'll go to: back to where it all started," Sherlock said hitting a speed dial on his own phone before the person picked up and he spoke into the phone. "Lestrade. Get to the Hollow. ... Dewer's Hollow, now. And bring a gun," Sherlock told Lestrade before he hung up and looked at me. "Do you have your gun?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded at him.

"Of course. I'm always prepared," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before he reached out for my hand. "John," I said, looking over at the army doctor and he joined us as the three of us walked out. This was what I had been afraid of but now it made complete sense. Now we just had to rescue Henry from himself and let the truth come out. I was right though, this mystery ran deeper than we originally thought and there was a darker history here than even Baskerville had.


	75. The Truth Comes Out

**Chapter Seventy Three- The Truth Comes Out**

**Lexi's POV**

The three of us rushed out to Dewer's Hollow where we knew Henry would return to. It was where this had all started. Thankfully for us the Hollow was not that far from Baskerville which made even more sense. I had a theory but I needed a few things confirmed first before I could say if I was right or not. We raced across the terrain in the Land Rover and Sherlock pulled up where the woods begin. The three of us got out of the car and continued on foot, racing through the trees and the undergrowth to get to the Hollow. Sherlock had one of my hands and he was helping to led me through the overgrown forest while I had John's hand it mine as he ran behind me. We made it to the Hollow and I breathed heavily as I heard Henry's voice ahead of us in the bottom of the valley.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad," I heard Henry say and we reached the top of the Hollow to find Henry squatted down with a pistol pointed into his open mouth.

"No, Henry, no! No!" Sherlock shouted at him as the three of us scrambled down the slope, shining our torches at him. Henry stood up and stumbled backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in our direction.

"Get back. Get – get away from me!" Henry ordered us his voice high-pitched and hysterical.

"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax," John told him, trying to calm the man down as he kept his eyes trained on the gun in Henry's hands. I knew we had to get him to put the gun down and quickly. I was not against shooting him in the arm to get him to drop the gun.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" Henry shouted at us as I reached towards my bag, standing slightly behind Sherlock so that Henry wouldn't see what I was doing.

"Just put the gun down. It's okay," John told him pacifyingly, using a calm voice. That was the best thing to do. Stay calm and don't let your voice raise even a little bit.

"No, no, I know what I am!" Henry shouted at us his voice hoarse with anguish.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it – explained very carefully," Sherlock told him reassuringly as I held my gun behind my back, waiting.

"What?" Henry asked in confusion and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me, asking for my help in the matter.

"Someone needed to keep you quiet Henry so you wouldn't talk about what you had seen. They needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to for so long, because you had started to remember. You are remembering. Since we've gotten here it's become clearer hasn't it? You remembered the words," I told Henry calmly as Sherlock and I cautiously stepped closer to him.

"Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy," Sherlock told him and Henry's gun hand began to droop momentarily but then he raised it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.

"I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought ...," Henry told us before he lost control and began to scream in anguish. "Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't – I don't know any more!" Henry sobbed before he bent forward and aimed the muzzle into his mouth again.

"No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!" John shouted lurching forward towards him.

"Henry, remember. "Liberty In." Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago," Sherlock told him urgently and Henry began to calm a little but he still remained hunched over with the gun's muzzle against his mouth.

"Henry, you started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night, what you tried to forget. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry? That wasn't what you saw. It was something else entirely," I said quickly and Henry straightened up, blinking.

"Not a monster," Sherlock told Henry who turned to look at him. "A man."

Henry's eyes widened as no doubt the memories came back to him. Of what he really saw here in the Hollow. His father was scrabbling at the ground trying to get away from his attacker, but I wasn't some monstrous hound that had him but a man wearing a dark leather old-fashioned gas mask. The glass of the two large eye pieces were tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the eye pieces seemed to be glowing. That was what Henry had seen and he had watched from partway up the slope, cringing and terrified as the attacker pummelled at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at his face. Mr. Knight probably managed to pull himself from under his assailant and started to crawl away but the other man growled fiercely, a sound that Henry had so ingrained into his psyche, and would have tugged him backwards and Henry's father lost his balance and fell forward. His head struck a rock and he collapsed to the ground unmoving, he fell and he died. And after is attacker realized that Mr. Knight was dead and he stopped, Henry saw the sweatshirt he was wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters H.O.U.N.D. underneath, and "Liberty, In" below them. Henry's mind would have begun to mix everything up and, some hours later when he met the old lady walking her dog, his new horror was complete and he screamed in utter terror because it finally got ingrained in his mind that he saw a hound that didn't exist. It was the drug, it made people highly suggestible. How Henry got dosed with it I was still unsure about but here in the present as Henry gaped at Sherlock and me, the truth finally reasserted itself in Henry's mind.

"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said," Sherlock told Henry. Quietly John stepped forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry as Lestrade arrived and called out while he trotted down the slope towards us.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" Lestrade called as John worked to convince Henry to give the gun over to him.

"Okay, it's okay, mate," John told Henry gently and he looked over at me and I nodded at him.

"It's alright now Henry," I told him and he nodded as John carefully took the pistol from Henry's fingers.

"But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw ...," Henry told Sherlock and I tearfully.

"Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. The three of us saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that's how it works," Sherlock told Henry who stared at us in confusion and Sherlock returned his look sympathetically. "But there never was any monster," Sherlock told him and then, suddenly, an anguished howl rang out in the woods above us. We all snapped our heads up and John and Greg aimed their flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape was slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.

"Sherlock ...," John called as he and I both stared up at the thing in disbelief as Henry turned to us, horrified.

"No," Henry said and he began to wail in panic. "No, no, no, no!" Henry shouted and he backed away as Sherlock tried simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above us.

"Henry, Henry ...," Sherlock said as I raised my gun up towards the thing.

"Henry, remember what I promised you!" I shouted to him as he looked back at me in terror and while I was just as afraid as Sherlock seemed to be I was keeping a level head. Sherlock and I stood next to each other as I watched the thing closely.

"Sherlock ...Lexi…," John breathed as the creature continued to slink along the rim of the Hollow. Henry began to scream in abject terror and he crumpled to his knees, continually screaming, "No!" "Henry!" John shouted as the hound turned towards the Hollow and looked down at us, snarling viciously. Its eyes glowed in the torchlight as Henry continued to wail.

"Shit!" Lestrade swore as he stared up at the rim and John turned and shined his torch into his face.

"Greg, are you seeing this?" John asked him in shock and Greg glanced at him momentarily and his expression answered the question. Sherlock took a quick look around at Lestrade like I had to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound. "Right, he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what's that? What is it?!" John shouted to us, sounding terrified.

As Henry continued to wail behind us, Sherlock screwed his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to handle the overload in his mind before he stared upwards again. He was drugged though. We all were. Air dispersal. That was what the drug was. The fog in the Hollow, Fletcher mentioned it said you got a bad feeling around the place that it was eerie. It wasn't Henry's sugar that was drugged it was the Hollow. Every time he went to the Hollow he started seeing it, he went back to the Hollow during the day time to try and face his demons as his psychologist wanted him too. Henry's father knew too much. Henry said that they took a walk across the moors every night, they went to the Hollow. It was predictable, Frankland could have set up the drug as a way to confuse his father to test it out but when it wasn't working like he thought it was going to. They fought and in the struggle Henry's dad fell, hit his head and died, but what if Frankland never removed the air dispersal technique? Every time Henry came to the Hollow he was getting drugged again which reasserted the lie. When he was gone he got better, more in control but he still believed in what he had seen. When Fletcher came to the Hollow he also got drugged and he knew what Henry claimed to have seen so he saw it too. Plant a few footprints for someone to find and it works to reassert the story more. This was years of trying to hide the truth.

"All right! It's still here ...," Sherlock shouted, breaking me out of my thoughts. He panted heavily for a moment before pulling himself together "...but it's just a dog. Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!" Sherlock shouted as the hound raised its head and let out a long terrifying howl.

"Oh my God," Lestrade exclaimed, stumbling backwards as the hound turned and leapt a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the torchlight. "Oh, Christ!" Lestrade shouted.

John stared at it as it stopped again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opened its mouth and revealed a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl was completely terrifying. Henry had fallen silent, gazing up at it as if he thought that it is going to kill him shortly. Sherlock seemed to still be trying to believe what his own eyes were telling him ... and now there was movement behind us. Sherlock and I turned and looked over our shoulders and we both saw a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival was wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. We turned and rushed towards him together and Sherlock grabbed at the mask, ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man's face ... and Jim Moriarty grinned manically back at us. I cried out in shock and terror as I stumbled back from him.

"No!" Sherlock shouted, staring at him in appalled horror. Behind us the hound growled ominously again. Jim's expression became intense and murderous but then his head began to distort and flail about, morphing between Jim's face and someone else's so quickly that it was impossible to keep up with the changes. Sherlock grimaced, groaning at the insanity going on in front of is while Jim's face keeps reasserting itself.

"It's not him Sherlock! He's not here!" I shouted at Sherlock frantically as I realized that it was only our mind playing tricks on us. I knew that he was seeing the same thing as I was from the look on his face. He told me after we faced Moriarty that he had only ever been afraid of one man in his life and that was Moriarty. He was afraid of him not only because of what he had done to me, but also because it of what he could possibly do. It was the one time we got that close to almost losing each other or John. "Sherlock! It's not him!" I shouted again and Sherlock broke out of and grabbed at the figure. He spun him around and then headbutted him in the face. The figure crumpled slightly and raised his hand to his face as he straightened up ... and now the man in front of us was Bob Frankland. Sherlock clung onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic ... but then he turned his head to one side and looked at the mist surrounding us as suddenly it all begins to make sense to him and I realized that he had come to the same conclusion that I had.

"The fog," Sherlock said and I nodded at him as I pointed my gun at Frankland.

"What?" John asked us in confusion, still aiming his torch up at the hound.

"It's the fog!" Sherlock shouted as I flicked my gaze around to the hound, not sure what was more of a threat right now. I went with the hound, Sherlock had Frankland.

"The drug, it's in the fog!" I shouted across to Greg and John as I breathed in through my mouth, trying to slow down my heart rate. The faster we breathed because we were scared, the more quickly we were breathing, the more of the stuff we were breathing in.

"Aerosol dispersal – that's what it said in those records. Project HOUND – it's the fog! A chemical minefield!" Sherlock shouted and Greg instantly threw his arm across his face, trying to stop himself from breathing too much of the mist. The hound stalked closer to us, snarling.

"For God's sake, kill it! Kill it!" Frankland shouted and from the note of terror in his voice I could tell that it was actually real what we were seeing. They said they put the dog down, but they hadn't. People lie to save themselves just as Frankland had made Henry believe a lie to save his own sorry ass. The hound's movements become more jittery as if it was winding itself up to attack. Greg aimed his pistol and fired three times at it. His bullets flew past it and it flinched momentarily but then it raised up and leapt towards us. John aimed his own gun at it and fired as I also shot at the hound. Our aim was truer and our bullets hit the hound accurately and threw it backwards. It squealed in pain and crashed to the ground, unmoving. John and Greg watched it anxiously for any signs of movement, and Sherlock ran over to Henry and pushed him towards the hound. As I lowered my gun and stood there, breathing heavily as I watched Sherlock.

"Look at it, Henry," Sherlock told him, trying to show him the truth.

"No, no, no!" Henry shouted, digging his heels in.

"Come on, look at it!" Sherlock ordered him, shoving him forward determinedly. He bullied the young man forward until they could both clearly see the hound lying on the ground. In Sherlock's torchlight it was clearly nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stared at it for a moment and then turned back to where Frankland was still holding his injured face. I had stepped closer to John at this point, distancing myself from Frankland. Greg still had his hands over his mouth as he tried to draw breath and come to terms with what he just experienced. Henry looked over to Frankland as the truth finally was revealed to him.

"It's just ... You bastard," Henry said before he hurled himself at the older man, screaming with rage. "You bastard!" Henry shouted at him, bundling him to the ground. He screamed into his face while John and Greg ran over and tried to pull him off. "Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just kill me?!" Henry shouted as they finally managed to pull him off of Frankland.

"Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you," Sherlock told Henry as he put and arm on the small of my back, assuring himself that I was oaky as he rubbed meaningless circles onto my back.

"He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father Henry. He had to make you believe the lie and he had the means right at his feet, a chemical minefield. Theirs pressure pads in the ground. They dosed you with the drug every time that you came back here. If you died, if everyone thought the hound had killed you too and they found your body when they had never found your fathers, everyone would believe in the hound too. Nobody would ever suspect that he had done anything. He was using you to cover his own tracks up," I told Henry having figured that part out finally. Sherlock held his arms out wide and spun slowly in a circle beside me, gesturing around the Hollow.

"Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once," Sherlock said and he laughed with delight as I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant," Sherlock told the young man.

"Sherlock ...," John said as I gave Sherlock a pointed look.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he turned to the army doctor who glared at him pointedly.

"Timing," John told him and Sherlock frowned in confusion.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked him and I shook my head at him fondly.

"Just a bit love," I told him and he looked at me sheepishly.

"No, no, it's – it's okay. It's fine, because this means ...," Henry said and he started to step towards Frankland. John moved with him, ready to intervene if he tried to attack him again. "...this means that my dad was right," Henry said and Frankland got up onto his knees as Henry still tried to move towards him. John and Greg both put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back. "He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you'd killed him – because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment," Henry said tearfully.

Frankland got to his feet but before he could say anything there was a savage snarl from behind the group. We all spun towards the dog the as it whined in pain but got up off the ground. John aimed and fired towards it twice and it went down again. Frankland took the opportunity of the distraction to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Sherlock, being a bit of an idiot though I loved him despite this, ran right across John's line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chased off after the scientist. I took off at a run with my gun, catching up to Sherlock and even running past him. I didn't run after murderers for nothing. John followed behind us as Sherlock shouted at Frankland.

"Frankland!" Sherlock shouted as he ran through the woods with Sherlock, John, and I in hot pursuit, Greg and Henry a little behind us. "Frankland!" Sherlock shouted again as I took a deep breath and put on a burst of speed.

"Come on, keep up!" Lestrade shouted to Henry.

"It's no use, Frankland!" Sherlock shouted at the scientist.

Reaching the barbed wire fence surrounding the minefield, Frankland didn't hesitate and jumped over. His feet tangled in the wire and he fell to the ground on the other side. He jumped up but before he could get in further, I didn't hesitate to shoot Frankland. He cried out in pain before he fell to his knees and we all stopped short as I lowered my gun, breathing heavily. Sherlock, John, and Greg stared at me as I nodded.

"Well, that was interesting," I told them as I caught my breath and Sherlock chuckled slightly. "Who wants to go and collect him?" I asked as Sherlock pulled me to his chest and checked me over quickly to see if I was hurt in anyway. "I'm fine," I assured him before I grabbed his hand that was roaming as he checked for injuries and held it in my own as he met my eyes. "I'm fine," I told him again and he looked down at me and nodded before I pushed up on my toes as he bent down and gave me a quick kiss.

Lestrade and John ended up jumping over the fence together so that they could watch each other's backs and they carefully made their way over the ground to Frankland before pulling the bastard back over to the fence and hauling him over to Sherlock and I on the other side before they joined us on the safe side of the fence. I had shot him close to the fence so he hadn't even had time to run any further out into the field. A few yards further and he would have become no more than a few bits. We used my belt as a tourniquet and John and Greg carried Frankland as we made back for the car. I called ahead and the local police were already waiting with an ambulance when we got back to the pub. Dr. Frankland was read his rights and arrested before he was loaded in the back of the ambulance. Henry thanked me for making sure that Frankland would pay for what he had done rather than getting the easy way out. Exhausted, Sherlock, John, Greg, and I all decided to turn in for the night after we toasted each other with a pin, well John, Greg, and I did. Sherlock wasn't too keen on drinking again. In all, it was just like the rest of our cases, chases, cover ups, and murderers.

The next morning we all headed downstairs for a good breakfast before we headed off to catch the train back to London. I was ready to go home and so was Sherlock. It was nice out here in Dartmoor, but I missed London. It was nice, this trip, though. It was like a mini holiday. John and I were sitting together at one of the outdoor tables and Billy brought out a plate containing whatever was the vegetarian equivalent of a full English breakfast and put it on the table in front of John before Billy set down a potato breakfast casserole for me. The Irish half of me was in the mood for something other than all this English food. I had complained to Sherlock before that the food wasn't the same here in London. That was just one of the thing you always missed though, the food that you remembered from home.

"Mmm. Thanks, Billy," John said as I nodded at the man with a grin and picked up my fork. As Billy walked away, Sherlock brought over three mugs carefully and put one down on the table in front of John.

"So they didn't have it put down, then – the dog," Sherlock told us and I nodded at him as I took a bite of my potatoes. That had been one of my many theories. It was nice to know that I was right every so often.

"Obviously. Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it," John said, tucking into his own breakfast while Sherlock stood behind me, drinking his coffee. I picked up my own mug and took a sip before leaning back and grinning up at Sherlock.

"I see," Sherlock said as he played with my hair slightly.

"No you don't," John told him, smiling.

"No, I don't. Sentiment?" Sherlock asked us with a frown and I nodded at him.

"Sentiment!" John agreed and I giggled as I shook my head fondly ay Sherlock.

"Oh," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes before he gestured for me to stand up. I did as he asked and he sat down on the bench next to John before he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arm around my waist. I laughed again before I picked up some potatoes on my fork and put it up to Sherlock's mouth. He took a bite and chewed on it as I started eating again, sharing my breakfast with him.

"Listen: what happened to me in the lab?" John asked us after he looked over at us. Sherlock looked at him for a moment, then turned around, holding me to his chest carefully so he would jostle me, and reached for a box of sauce sachets, looking worried about how he was ever going to explain all this. I kissed his jaw as he sat back up straight to assure him that he didn't have to do it alone.

"D'you want some sauce with that?" Sherlock asked John, deflecting the question.

"I mean, I hadn't been to the Hollow, so how come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said," John told us and I bit my lip as I tried to look all innocent.

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, when you went to the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes – pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve; and they were carrying the gas, so ... Um, ketchup, was it, or brown ...?" Sherlock asked him, rummaging through the box of sachets as he tried to stop John from asking questions.

"Hang on, you thought it was in the sugar," John said suddenly and Sherlock stared at him while trying to maintain a neutral expression. "You were convinced it was in the sugar," John said and Sherlock looked away again. "You didn't think so though, why?" John asked me and I shrugged at him as I snuggled against Sherlock's chest.

"Well, it was Fletcher that made me think that. I didn't quite think he was having coffee or tea parties much with Henry so he couldn't have been dosed with the drug too if it was in Henry's sugar and he did see the hound or thought he had," I told John and he frowned at me.

"Then why did you look at the sugar with Sherlock if you knew you weren't going to find anything?" John asked me and I sighed before I turned to him.

"He was convinced it was the sugar," I told John before I looked up at John and grinned at him cheekily, pressing a kiss to the detective's cold cheek. "I didn't have any other idea of what it might be so I couldn't say that Sherlock was wrong. Besides, it was a rather good theory," I told John and Sherlock murmured his thanks to me near my ear as he buried his face in my hair.

"Better get going, actually," Sherlock said as he checked his watch. "There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want ...," Sherlock said and John turned his head away before a sudden thought seemed to hit him.

"Oh God. It was you two. You locked me in that bloody lab!" John said turning to us and I gave him the most innocent look I could.

"We had to. It was an experiment," Sherlock told him and I groaned. Sure that's what we had done it for, but telling John we experimented on him didn't seem like something he would just be okay with.

"An experiment?!" John asked us furiously and Sherlock shushed him, looking at the people sitting nearby. "I was terrified, Sherlock, Lexi. I was scared to death," Sherlock told us quieter, but still furious.

"I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then we arranged everything with Major Barrymore," Sherlock told John, thankfully leaving out the fact that we had arranged the fight with him to set everything up in the first place. John sighed in exasperation as I gave John an apologetic look. "It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions – well, literally," Sherlock told him and I bit back my smirk as I remembered how we had conducted said experiment.

**Flashback**

_Sherlock and I were sitting in a room from where we could monitor the lab. Sherlock was lazily sitting in a chair with his feet up on the table and he had pulled me down to sit on his lap. We watched the screen in front of us which showed John racing across the darkened lab towards the cages as the 'hound' growled while Sherlock played with my hair. I worked the entire set up, shutting of the lights, or broadcasting the sounds of the 'hound' throughout the lab. A little later Sherlock wiggled his feet comfortably on the desk while John breathed panic-stricken into his phone. We couldn't see John on the screen because he had gone and hidden inside one of the cages. _

_"It's in here with me," John whispered into the phone. _

_"All right, we'll find you. Keep talking," Sherlock told him calmly as he looked up at me, grinning as I shook my head at him and slapped him on the knee. There was a momentary silence on John's end of the line. "Keep talking!" Sherlock ordered him. _

_"I can't, it'll hear me," John told us softly and I bit my lip. _

_"John, just keep talking. Now calm down and tell us what you're seeing," I directed him and John took a deep breath, listening to my instructions. "John?" I asked as Sherlock switched on a small recorder and held it up to a nearby microphone. Savage growling, playing in the lab._

_"What can you see?" Sherlock asked John quickly and I clapped a hand over his mouth to hide his smirk. This wasn't supposed to be funny. He kissed my palm and I kissed the back of my hand before I removed it from his lips. _

_"I don't know, but I can hear it now," John told them as I bit back a giggle. _

**End of Flashback**

**"**Well, I knew what effect it had had on superior minds, so I needed to try it on an average one," Sherlock told John back in the present and John looked up from his plate as I turned and smacked Sherlock upside the back of his head. "Woman!" Sherlock shouted at me before he looked round at John.** "**You know what I mean," Sherlock told him, still rubbing the back of his head.

"You know, I wouldn't have to smack you so much if you learn the first time," I told Sherlock with a smirk as John went back to eating.

"But it wasn't in the sugar," John said and I giggled at the fact that he was brining that up again. I knew why he was too.

"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas," Sherlock told him defensively.

"So you got it wrong," John told him and I snorted at how smug he sounded.

"No," Sherlock told him and John hummed a little bit.

"You were wrong. It wasn't in the sugar. You got it wrong," John told Sherlock teasing him just a little bit.

"John," I told the army doctor, raising my eyebrow at him in just enough warning that he backed down.

"A bit. It won't happen again," Sherlock told John, pouting a bit and I shook my head at him fondly. John sighed and continued eating, then looks round at us again.

"Any long-term effects?" John asked us and I shook my head at him.

"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will," Sherlock told John, rubbing his hand down my arm once, assuring himself of the fact that we would all be fine. He was still surprised that this was the first case we had been on where I hadn't gotten myself hurt. Not even a bruise or a cut.

"Think I might have taken care of that already," John told us and we both snorted with laughter before Sherlock and I looked across to a nearby table where Gary was pouring coffee for two other customers. He smiled apologetically across to Sherlock and I got up as Sherlock put his mug on the table and stood up to join me.

"Where're you going?" John asked us and I turned to the army doctor and grinned at me.

"Won't be a minute. Gotta see a man about a dog," Sherlock told John, smiling down at him before he reached for my hand and we turned and walked away together. Sherlock just wanted to spend a few more minutes with me alone, walking around the town before we headed out, but he didn't want to tell John that. I was happy to oblige him. This case had scared him because it was the one time he couldn't trust his eyes. I knew he felt like he had to protect me and he doubted not only himself, but his ability to do that. How could he protect me from something that wasn't there or possibly was there. Whatever happened though, no matter what the case or what happened to us, we would also stand together. The one thing you needed most was a hand to hold and someone to face the unknown with.

**Third Person POV**

Jim Moriarty sat silently and calmly with his eyes closed in the middle of a small windowless concrete-lined cell. In an adjoining room, Mycroft walked towards the other side of the one-way mirror which Jim was facing, and narrowed his eyes as he looked closely at the other man. Sometime afterwards, the door to the cell was unlocked and Jim opened his eyes but did not turn around as Mycroft walked in. Later, Mycroft had left the cell again. A man in a suit opened the cell door and walked inside.

"All right. Let him go," Mycroft ordered and Jim turned and casually strolled out of the cell. Behind him, the man turned and looked around the room. On almost every plain concrete panel of the walls, Jim had somehow carved two words into the cement. In different sizes and at different angles, the words repeated all around the cell, always grouped together– and the words were SHERLOCK and LEXI. And with the dust which was loosened by the carving, he had scratched Sherlock and Lexi's names backwards on the mirror so that whoever was watching him from the other side of the mirror would see the names the right way round. The man in the suit turned and walked away, closing the cell door behind him as Moriarty walked out, free once again, ready to finish the game.

**Lexi's POV**

By the time we made it back to Baker Street, night had already fallen. We took the train back to Piccadilly Station and then a cab back to the flat after that. None of us were keen on cooking so we ordered dinner from Angelo's, we had just solved a case after all. Sherlock and I curled up on the couch together after dinner which John sat in his chair typing up the case. I was content to just snuggle up to Sherlock and listen to the show he was watching, I giggled every time he yelled at the telly and threw out deductions about everyone in the show. I fell asleep against Sherlock's chest and I woke up slightly as he carried me to our room. He tucked me into bed before he kissed the top of my head and told me to go back to sleep. I snuggled down into the blankets and hugged Sherlock's pillow to my chest. I woke up again when Sherlock came to bed at nearly four in the morning. I got up tiredly and padded into the bathroom, changing into the bed shirt and pair of my sweatpants that Sherlock had handed over to me. I quickly brushed my teeth and braided my hair before I shuffled back into our bed room, half asleep, and crawled back into bed next to Sherlock. I snuggled up against his side and sighed in contentment. I could tell that he was exhausted. He had barely slept after everything had happened at the Hollow and I had stayed awake with him, talking in whispers with him for most of the night about anything that didn't relate to the case.

The next few days were quiet or as quiet as life could be when you were living with Sherlock Holmes. John wasn't completely free of any blame either. Both boys had their moments. Clients came and went over the next few days and Sherlock turned them all away. Neither of us got any interesting cases on our websites and not even Lestrade had a murder case for us. It was as if the criminal classes were on holiday. Relief from our boredom, or at least for me, came in the middle of the week. Sherlock received a call from Mummy Holmes five days after we got home. It was the first time I had ever heard Sherlock listen to someone other than himself. John was out of the flat on a date at the time so he missed seeing Sherlock, apparently, getting scolded within an inch of his life. I sat on the couch reading as Sherlock paced the length of the living room, throwing looks my way every so often. He mostly listened to his mother, wincing every so often. Nearly two hours later he finally said goodbye to her after what sounded like a one sided argument. Sherlock repeatedly told his mother no before saying something about it not being a good idea or that we were too busy to do something. I got the gist that Sherlock's mother wanted him to do something which he was all but refusing outright to do. That was when the scolding had started apparently. Sherlock kept pacing the length of the living room after the call had ended, looking uncharacteristically nervous. I marked the place in my book and put it down on the coffee table before I hauled myself off of the couch. I walked over to Sherlock and stopped him from pacing, forcing him to look at me.

"I know that face. Now what just happened?" I asked Sherlock as I held my hands over his, looking up at his face. He looked down at me and for once he didn't look like the confident consulting detective that I knew, he looked like a boy that had just gotten reprimanded by his mother.

"This is my normal face," Sherlock told me defensively and I raised my eyebrow at him as I threw my arms around his neck, looking up at him as he rested his hands lightly on my hips.

"If you normal face looks like your mother just scolded you then yeah, it's your normal face," I teased Sherlock giggling slightly when he glared down at me, trying to look imposing. "I'll make you some tea," I told him, kissing his jawbone as he continued to glare down at me. I shook my head at him and steered him over to his chair. He sat down, still acting all grumpy because of my teasing. I wasn't at all worried about his attitude. I knew how to handle Sherlock's moods by now. I kissed the top of Sherlock's head and he pouted up at me before I turned and made for the kitchen.

"They want to meet you, my parents," Sherlock said suddenly and I froze from where I had made it as far as John's chair. I turned around slowly to face Sherlock to find him sitting in his prayer pose now, thinking with a look of deep concentration on his face. "In fact, my mother wouldn't hear of you not coming," Sherlock continued as I blinked back at him in shock. "She's quiet taken with you apparently and my father wants the chance to talk to you as well. They want to get to know you since you spend so much time with Mycroft and I. Well that and they found out about us being together because Mycroft can't keep his fat mouth shut," Sherlock rambled on, mentioning Mycroft bitterly, as I just blinked back at him. He looked up at me then and seemed to realize that I wasn't saying anything at all. "Lexi?" Sherlock asked me and I found the ability to move and shuffled forward to sit down heavily in John's chair.

"You're parents want to meet me?" I managed to squeak out, still not sure if I had completely heard him right and hoping that I hadn't. Sherlock pulled a confused look before he dropped his prayer pose, staring back at me intensely.

"I did just say that didn't I or did I not say that all aloud?" Sherlock asked me and I let out a nervous laugh as Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed.

"It's just…you're parents want to meet me," I told Sherlock again as I looked up at him in disbelief, running my hand through my hair.

"Are you alright? You're not normally this slow to grasp something I've said," Sherlock asked me in concern as he got up and knelt beside me, looking up into my eyes and darting his face around as he tried to study me.

"You're parents; the people who raised you want to meet me. I'm sort of freaking out a little bit right now," I told Sherlock as I stood up, Sherlock standing up with me and I looked at him finally as he frowned again in confusion.

"Why would that "freak" you out?" Sherlock asked me, frowning. "You're the one that wanted to meet her in the first place," Sherlock said as I walked into the kitchen, Sherlock trailing after me.

"Yeah, but that was before you and I were…," I told him, flailing my hands about as I searched for the right word. "Before you and I were together. You met my dad," I told Sherlock as I started making tea for the both of us. Tea wasn't going to cut it though. I really wanted something 7% stronger about now.

"Both," Sherlock said and I turned back to see him smirking.

"This isn't funny!" I groaned and I smacked Sherlock on the arm as I passed by him to get two mugs out of the cupboard. "You met my father, both of them, but I'm meeting your parents. It was different before. I was just the girl that was friends with both of their sons, now I am the girl who is dating one of their sons. It changes everything," I told Sherlock, sighing heavily as I leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil.

"Yes, and since when has what someone thinks of you ever mattered?" Sherlock asked me as I walked over to him and buried my face in his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist. Ugh, I didn't want to meet his parents. Not now at least. Later that could happen, yeah, later was good.

"'Cos this is you and the people who raised you and I've never meet anyone's parents before," I mumbled and Sherlock held his arms around me, looking down at me curiously. "I told you, I've never found someone I thought I could be…happy with, but I found you I'm just…what if they don't like me or don't think I'm good enough for you?" I asked Sherlock, biting my lip as I looked up at him nervously, feeling a little bit self-conscious.

I had never been in a relationship before. In fact Sherlock was the first person I had ever been with. I never found someone I thought I could honestly be happy with. I refrained from adding someone I wanted to spend my life with. I love this, this right here. Being able to just be with Sherlock in our kitchen, in our flat, and not have to worry about doing something wrong. I loved every morning that I got to wake up next to him. I loved every kiss and every private moment we shared. I loved being the one that he wanted to share things with, that he was unafraid to talk to or show emotion to. We both hid our feelings well and called ourselves high functioning sociopaths just to make people think that we didn't care because we both got hurt in the past when we did. We didn't have to lie to each other though. With Sherlock I could be myself and not have to worry about doing something wrong because he accepted me for who I was, just as I loved Sherlock exactly as he was. I never would want him to be anything but what he was because that was the person I had fallen in love with. We had both been stupid and hadn't just admitted that we loved each other and it took almost losing each other to realize that we never wanted to live without each other because we had found something together that we had never had before. I was nervous because this would be the first time I met anyone's parents and I wasn't sure what they would think of me.

Mycroft and Sherlock were both brilliant and I sort of was expecting their parents to be the same way. It was different than before because now I was Sherlock's girlfriend. I knew that it was silly for me to be nervous. I mean, next to Moriarty and all of the other murderers I had face along with the Woman, meeting his parents would be a walk in the park. I was still scared that they wouldn't think I was good enough for Sherlock or something equally as idiotic. When Sherlock had met Alistair, Alistair had known that something was going on between us, but we hadn't been officially together yet. I wasn't sure what I was nervous about; I mean I had talked to Sherlock's mother a few times since we started dating and I never got nervous before. Then again…she hadn't known we were dating then. Oh I was so going to kill Mycroft, painfully and slowly. None of this would be happening if he could just keep his mouth shut, but no. He knew this would happen if he told their mother.

"They will love you, probably more than they love Mycroft and me in fact," Sherlock told me thoughtfully as he frowned in thought. "Besides they're already ecstatic about me having a girlfriend in the first place. My mother might have mentioned that she had started to worry that I would never find a girl who could "put up with me" as she put it," Sherlock told me before he bent down and kissed the top of my head. I giggled at looked up at him, shaking my head.

"Well, I do put up with a lot," I joked, grinning at him so that he wouldn't take that the wrong way. He mock glared down at me for the teasing. "But, I wouldn't have you any other way," I told Sherlock honestly and he smirked at me smugly.

"I am perfect," Sherlock told me smugly and I smacked him on the arm before I pulled him down by the lapels of his suit jacket and planted a quick kiss on his lips which became slightly longer. When we broke apart I played with the curls at the base of his neck as I smiled up at him slyly.

"And very egotistical, I wonder how you manage to fit your head through doors," I told him with one eyebrow slightly raised. He grinned down at me, knowing I was just teasing him now. "Well, I guess were going to meet your parents," I told Sherlock as I pulled away from him and continued making our tea before I handed Sherlock over his mug.

"What?! No!" Sherlock told me quickly and it was my turned to turn back at him and frown in confusion.

"Why not?" I asked Sherlock, confused. Hadn't he just said his parents would like me? I followed him back into the living room and sat across from him in John's chair as he took up residence in his own once again, setting his tea down on the floor so he could adopt his prayer pose. "I thought you said your parents would like me?" I asked Sherlock, voicing my thoughts.

"They would and that's the problem," Sherlock told me, shaking his head as he pulled a face. "I don't want to see them though," Sherlock told me, looking away from me to pick at some non-existent lint on his sleeve. I raised my eyebrow at that. Now I got it. That was why his mother was telling at him. He didn't want to visit his parents. That was why he tried to make the excuse that we were too busy even if we didn't have a single case. His mother was basically ordering him home for a visit and she wanted me to come with him so they could meet me. Now I understood what Sherlock and Mycroft fought about when it came to their mother.

"Oh, is that what it is?" I asked Sherlock, raising my eyebrow at him and he looked back at me quickly as if sensing the shift in the conversation. "You don't want me to meet them and you don't want to go yourself, but your mother is forcing you to go," I said and Sherlock eyed me warily.

"Why do you suddenly want to go now?" Sherlock snapped at me, getting defensive and I grinned back at him, not at all concerned with his tone of voice. It just meant that I was right, Sherlock didn't want me meeting his parents.

"Because that was what you were hoping for. You don't want me to want to go," I told Sherlock as I pointed at him accusingly. He shuffled in his chair uncomfortably ad I put the pieces together. "You wanted me to not want to come with you because you don't want me to meet your parents!" I told him as his phone trilled a text alert. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, for the first time not knowing what to say as I saw right through him.

"I did no such thing," Sherlock told me defensively as he took his phone out and checked it.

"Oh but you did," I sang as he got up and walked over to the door. I put my tea down and got up as well, following him over to the door. "You knew that I would freak out and you were trying to use that to get out of having to go and see your parents. You were hoping that they wouldn't force you to visit them if I didn't want to go," I said, poking Sherlock in the chest with my coat half on as he glared down at me, pulling his own coat on. I grinned up at him as we pulled our scarfs on before heading downstairs together "Well, too bad for you because now I want to go since you don't want to so badly," I told Sherlock who ignored me as he hailed us a cab and we slid in side. Sherlock directed the cabbie to Scotland Yard which told me we finally had a case. "I think your mum would love to see Mycroft too though, don't you think?" I asked Sherlock, grinning evilly. The perfect revenge for him telling on us would be if his mother forced him to come to now that I knew that they didn't like visiting their parents. Sherlock finally looked over at me with a smirk before he let out a deep baritone chuckle at my mischievous look. I took out my phone to ring up Sherlock's mother.

"I knew there was a reason why I loved you," Sherlock told me and I giggled at that and grinned at him as I raised my mobile to my ear.

"And don't you forget it," I told Sherlock as his mother picked up the phone. "Hello Mummy…," I said and Sherlock chuckled at me again before I had a nice long conversation with Sherlock's mother about the fact that Sherlock and I would love to come and visit them, Sherlock glared at me for this, and how lovely it would be if Mycroft could be there as well because I was sure he hadn't gotten to see them in a while too. Of course she loved my idea. This is why you didn't mess with me and certainly why I knew that I could handle both of the Holmes boys. Mrs. Holmes, I was really starting to like the sound of that.


	76. Be My Forever

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_You're my bright blue sky_

_You're the sun in my eyes_

_Oh baby, you're my life_

_You're the reason why_

_We're on top of the world_

_We're on top of the world_

_Now darling, so don't let go_

_1, 2, 3, 4_

_And, oh, we got time, yeah_

_We got love_

_So darling, just say you'll stay right by my side_

_Oh and we got love_

_Yeah_

_So darling, just swear you'll stand right by my side_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Will you love me forever?_

_I'll love you forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

_Be my forever_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Four- Be My Forever <strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Three days later, Sherlock and I were on another train heading out to the Holmes' Estate. Mycroft had chosen to travel on his own as he didn't want to ride with the "common rabble" as he so nicely put it. Joanna was taking over all of the work for him so that he could take time to go and see his parents which meant that for the next few days she was as she called it "The British Government". Apparently it was some inside joke between the two of them because she mentioned to me that she had started to practice her frowning face and was in the process of locating her top hat so she would be carted off by the "Ministry of Posh Suits." I was just glad to see that they were no longer fighting but I was staying out of whatever new phase they were on. I knew Joanna and I knew she could be a bit mental at times. John was glad to have the flat to himself for a while and was hoping to have a few uninterrupted dates. He over exaggerated the number of times Sherlock and I needed to call him off of a date though. Speaking of Sherlock and me, we had just spent the last two days solving a rather interesting double homicide case for Lestrade. Of course, he was still not happy about going home, which only made me want to meet his parents more, and Mycroft glared at me when I had seen him the day before and was very short with me as we spoke. He still hadn't forgiven me yet for suggesting to his mother that he should come along as well. I wasn't that cruel to make Sherlock apparently suffer alone. Everyone thought their parents were worse than they actually were though and I highly believed that both boys were exaggerating. I had learnt from the little bit I was able to get out of Sherlock that he was actually rather close to his father. I was still slightly nervous about meeting Sherlock parents, but I had a feeling that I would have a lot less to worry about than Sherlock and Mycroft were. You would think I was sending them to the gallows with the way those two were behaving.

It was an hour by train to Cambridge which was the closest city to where Sherlock grew up as a child. The train ride wasn't too bad. Sherlock sulked for most of it, even when I did give him some cold case files to look over to keep him busy. When we got into the train station we got our luggage before picking up the rental car. I got us a Land Rover again because I wasn't sure exactly where we were going. I got Sherlock to make some small talk as he drove us towards his parent's home and where he had grown up, but he was still pouting. I raised my eyebrow at him but I wasn't all that worried about how he was acting. He could pout and sulk as much as he wanted too. We made it to the village of Abbotsley and Sherlock drove us through the village and out into the little bit of country side that surrounded it. We pulled onto a gravel path off of the main road and continued on a little ways before we rounded the corner. In front of us was a large house, not a mansion, a bit smaller than that, but it certainly was upscale. It was all made of stone and it had a cottage like feel to it. There were vines and moss growing up the sides of the house and there were flowers all out front as well. Sherlock pulled up into the main drive and parked the car before he sat staring at the front of the house. A smaller, two passenger, sleek car was parked beside us which told me that Mycroft had arrived before we did. He was probably regretting that fact about now too.

"Cheer up, it won't be so bad. Besides, I'm with you and I'd much rather make Mycroft suffer," I told Sherlock, leaning over in the car to kiss Sherlock's cheek. He looked over at me at grinned slightly before we both got out of the car and headed around to the back of it to grab our bags.

When we headed around the car up to the front door, a woman opened the door to the house and smiled brightly as she set eyes on Sherlock. She had greying hair which she had up in a low bun and her eyes were the same colour as Sherlock's. She was dressed in a white sweater and she was wearing black slacks with it. A man appeared in the door way behind her and I grinned at how much he looked like Sherlock. He had greyed hair like his wife and his eyes were kind and had that sparkle in them like Sherlock's did when he was excited. He was wearing a striped button down with a grey cardigan over it and a red bow tie. He had Sherlock's smile and facial features and I could see that Mycroft looked more like his mother than Sherlock did. Sherlock looked a lot like a younger version of his father. I smiled at his parents as Sherlock bit back a groan and led me over to the front door where they were waiting for us expectantly. I caught Mycroft looking round the corner of the foyer behind his parents, still in his three piece suit of course. I swore that neither he nor Sherlock ever could dress casual. I was just in jeans and my cream coloured, off the shoulder jumper that Sherlock had bought me before we went on our trip to Belarus. I dubbed Mycroft the lurking man and I had a feeling that he would be attempting to hide as much as possible now that Sherlock and I had arrived.

"William," Sherlock's mother said as she walked forward and put her hands on each of Sherlock's cheeks and brought his face down to look at her. "That can't be you, you look so thin and peaky," His mother said and Sherlock sighed heavily and I watched the exchange with a bright smile on my face as I bit my lip to hold in a giggle.

"I don't know how many times I've told you, it's Sherlock," Sherlock told his mother and she gave him a stern look.

"Fine, but I don't see what's so wrong with William," His mother said, dropping her hands and brushing Sherlock off. I giggled, unable to hold it in any longer and Sherlock and his mother both looked over at me as I stood beside Sherlock's father. "And you must be Alexandria, Mycroft has been telling us about you," Sherlock's mother said she stepped over towards me and took my hands in hers. "Of course Sherlock hardly tells us anything," Mrs. Holmes continued, emphasizing Sherlock's name as she said it. Oh I absolutely loved her.

"Lexi please," I told her with a nod and she shook her head at me.

"You're like Sherlock then. He never could go by the name we gave him. Not that there is anything wrong with that dear," Mrs. Holmes assured me and I smiled back at her, looking up at Sherlock who already had a deep frown on his face. I know knew what his problem was with his parents. They were normal, just like everyone else's and I already loved them. How could I not? His mother was the most amazing woman in the world.

"Now dear, they've probably had a long ride over. Let's let them settle in before we ask too many questions," Mr. Holmes said, winking at me as he talked to his wife. She squeezed my hands once and smiled up at me before she turned to her husband, letting go of my hands.

"Yes," She told him before she turned to Sherlock and me. "Inside, both of you," Mrs. Holmes told us, gesturing for us to enter the house. I grinned at her as I passed by her with Sherlock who picked up both of our bags before he stormed into the foyer of the house which opened up into a living room to the front of us and branched off into two hallways two the right and the left.

"Ah, brother mine," Mycroft said as he leisurely walked into the foyer, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of brandy as he smirked at Sherlock who looked back at him darkly. "So nice of you to finally join us," Mycroft continued snidely.

"Croft, let's not start that so early shall we?" I asked Mycroft as I walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder as Papa and Mummy Holmes followed us inside and shut the door behind them.

"The pair of them, always fought like cats and dogs growing up," Mummy Holmes told me, sighing at her boys who were glaring at each other.

"And they still do," I told Mummy Holmes, nodding at her with a grin. "Which is why I make them get along, which they will do," I said, turning to the boys and raising my eyebrow at them both dangerously. Sherlock and Mycroft looked back at me as if they each wanted to say something, but thought better of it when I raised my eyebrow further. "Right?" I asked the two of them and Mycroft glared daggers back at me, Sherlock looking equally unhappy, but not nearly as much as Mycroft.

"Yes," The boys said in unison and Papa Holmes chuckled before he patted me on the shoulder. "Come my dear, I'll show you to the library while Sherlock puts your bags in your room," Papa Holmes told me, leading me towards the right hall way. I looked back at Sherlock and grinned at him. He looked slightly terrified that I was leaving him with his mother, but I followed after his father any way. He was a big boy. If he could handle murderers and serial killers he could handle his mother. I heard her starting to talk to him again as I followed after Papa Holmes, who seemed like he knew she was going to do that and had therefore rescued me. He lead me into a large library which had a desk on one end surrounded by book cases and a fire place with two cosy chairs in front of it on the other hand. "Please sit my dear," Papa Holmes directed me and I took one of the chairs in front of the fireplace as he walked over to a table with a few liquor bottles on it. "Can I get you a drink?" He offered to me and I smiled back at him.

"Yes, please," I told him and he poured us some brandy before he brought the glasses over to me. He handed me mine before he sat across from me, sighing as he sat down.

"I can see what Mycroft was telling us about you my dear. You are very beautiful and quite out of my son's league," Papa Holmes laughed and I joined him in a hearty chuckle before I took a sip of my drink, toasting him with it.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think that were exactly what each other needs," I told Papa Holmes honestly and he smiled back at me kindly. He reminded me so much of Sherlock, or at least the Sherlock I got to see when it was just the two of us. He had the boyish look and light to his eyes that Sherlock did whenever he was excited about something.

"Wise words," Papa Holmes told me and he chuckled lightly. "You're good for him. I can already see that. You seem to handle him and Mycroft well," Papa Holmes remarked and I laughed at that.

"It's a full time job I assure you. Our friend John told me the same thing. They're not so bad though, they're both just stubborn," I told Papa Holmes with a little shrug. Honestly, Mycroft and Sherlock weren't that bad. They both had their good moments but they were both stubborn and they had their moments where they both could get difficult.

"They get that from their mother. Complete flake, my wife, but she happens to be a genius. She was a mathematician but she gave that all up to have the boys. I could never bear to argue with her about it. I'm something of a moron myself. But she's," Papa Holmes said, searching around for the right words. "... unbelievably hot," He finished and we both grinned and laughed with each other.

"Well, I think they get some of it from you as well," I told him when we both calmed down and he smiled at me kindly.

"Thank you my dear, but I never could keep up with the lot of them," Papa Holmes told me, shaking his head and I frowned at him a bit.

"You can, you managed this long. It's like with our friend John. He sometimes doesn't think he understand us or that he's brilliant enough, but he is. He's helped us solve more than one case. And even if he didn't, you always need one sane person in the mix," I told Papa Holmes who watched me thoughtfully.

"And you're not?" Papa Holmes asked me and I shook my head, laughing brightly.

"Oh God no! If you haven't already guessed I'm just as bad as Sherlock," I told Papa Holmes ruefully. I was just as bad as Sherlock was and sometimes worse than him as well. For all that Sherlock did I had my moments as well. I wasn't going to say I was perfect, I was far from that. I just wasn't as bad as Sherlock and Mycroft but I was stubborn. I got that from my Irish blood and from my mother as Alistair told me.

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Papa Holmes told me in disbelief and I grinned back at him and chuckled shaking my head. Mycroft didn't tell them everything then or he had neglected to tell them that part before they met me.

"I punched a murderer in the face and broke my hand once on a case," I told Papa Holmes who looked back at me, slightly surprised. "At least Sherlock's never outright been that into the work," I told him, shrugging. "I've caused more trouble for Mycroft too," I added with a laugh.

"Well then, you are more than enough to handle the both of them then," Papa Holmes told me as a knock came at the partially closed office door. Sherlock ducked into the room, laying eyes on his father and me talking and narrowing them slightly in uneasiness. "Ah, Sherlock. Come to find you r girl I expect," Papa Holmes said as he looked over at his son.

"I thought I might show her around," Sherlock said, giving me a look that seemed like he was pleading with me to come with him.

"And escape from your mother, I wasn't born yesterday," Papa Holmes told his son before he looked over at me. "I'm sure we'll find plenty of time to talk later my dear. Go rescue your beau," He told me and I laughed at that as I stood up, setting my empty glass down on the side table before I walked over to Sherlock, taking his hand in mine.

He pulled me from the room and I could hear Mummy Holmes seemingly yelling at Mycroft in some other part of the house. Sherlock led me further down the hall to the right and rooms branched off of it. He led me into another sitting room which had a door that led out to the back garden which he pulled me through. He didn't slow down until we were a few feet from the house. The back garden was quite large and there were more flowers out here than were in the front of the house. Sherlock led me over to a gravel path which led out amongst some trees and flower beds. Sherlock was tense and I forced him to stop before I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest. He held me and his shoulders relaxed a little bit as he buried his head into my hair and breathed in some deep breaths. I tilted my head up and stood on tip toes to kiss Sherlock which seemed to calm him down a bit. I spotted a bench up ahead on the path and led him over to it, forcing him to sit down. I sat next to him and he pulled me into his side, tucking his head on top of mine as I rested my head on his chest. He sighed heavily and rubbed circles onto my arm. I didn't move, knowing that this was exactly what he needed.

"It's going to be alright," I murmured and Sherlock sighed again. "Your dad is alright and your mum will be fine. I'm here and I won't leave you on your own again," I assured Sherlock and he held me slightly tighter to him.

"You better not," Sherlock finally mumbled and I laughed slightly as I pulled back and kissed his cheek.

"I like your dad," I told him and he chuckled slightly at that, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"Mm," Sherlock hummed. "My father and I always got on quite well," Sherlock told me and I looked back at him, grinning slightly.

"He reminds me of you," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me and frowned. "He has that same smile that I love so much," I told Sherlock and he smirked down at me smugly.

"You do seem to love a lot about me," Sherlock told me with a smirk. "Care to tell me more?" Sherlock asked me and I smirked up at him mischievously which made him frown slightly.

"What would you like to know William?" I teased him and he glared at me slightly. "William?" I asked him, frowning in confusion and Sherlock groaned before he got all grumpy again.

"My name," Sherlock told me bitterly. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes," Sherlock told me and I blinked up at him with a fond smile on my face.

"I like it," I told Sherlock, forcing him to face me again. "And besides, we both have two first names anyway, I just choose to go by my first and you like to go by your second," I told him with a shrug. "You're more a Sherlock anyway," I told him, patting him on the chest consolingly.

"And you are more of a Lexi than an Amelia or an Alexandria," Sherlock told me, smirking at me as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You wouldn't have known that if you hadn't been snooping," I told Sherlock smacking him on the chest as I pulled myself from his side, standing up. "Come on, we can't stay out here forever," I told Sherlock, holding my hand out to him.

"Can't we?" Sherlock asked me hopefully and I shook my head ay him before wiggling my fingers. Sherlock groaned before he stood up and took my hand.

We started back down the path towards the house together and we slipped back inside using the door in the empty sitting room. Sherlock tiptoed around leading me back out to the foyer and pulling me quickly across the opening to the living room before his mother could spot us. Papa Holmes winked at us and I shot him a grin as he kept Mycroft distracted as well. Sherlock chuckled as he led me down onto the other side of the house. He pulled me down the hall and stopped at a door at the end which was shut. He looked down at me once as if questioning himself before he pushed the door open. He led me into his room and I grinned as I saw that it was his childhood room. That was what his hesitation had been about. There were books stacked up wherever there was any room to and there was a large table in the back of the room covered in chemistry equipment and chemical bottles. There was even a microscope. There were also a stack of notebooks on a shelf above his chemistry table. There was hardly much room to walk around through the books and it looked like his mother hand tried to shove them towards the walls in an attempt to tidy up a bit. It looked like his room hadn't been touched much since he had left home. Sherlock stopped at the door as I walked into his room and looked down, reading the spines of the books. He had forensic books and ones on crimes, history, and chemistry along with physics. I made my way to the bed and sat down on top of the Full sized comforter. I looked back at Sherlock who was still leaning against the door frame and grinned at him.

"I can see you in here conducting experiments or pouring over books," I told Sherlock who was watching me as I looked around his room. He stepped further inside the room and close the door behind him before he joined me over on the bed. He pulled me down with him so that I was laying on my side next to him as he rested on his back. He closed his eyes and breathed steadily as we just laid there together. "Should I be worried about the fact that your mother put us in the same room?" I asked Sherlock as I stretched out beside him and carded my fingers through his hair.

"Mycroft told her about that part as well. She expected it though. If you want I could always move your stuff to the guest room…," Sherlock began to say before I cut him off with a kiss.

"We already share a room at home and I'm just fine with John knowing that we do. Besides, when have I ever cared about what other people think?" I asked Sherlock with a grin and he opened one eye to look back at me lazily. We laid there for a while and the room grew darker as time passed. A knock sounded on the door after a while and Sherlock jumped up faster than I would have thought possible. He made it half way to the door before I was able to sit up as well. Sherlock opened the door a crack to see who it was and he opened it slightly wider when he discovered that it was his father.

"Your mother sent me to look for the two of you. She wants to see you both before dinner," Papa Holmes told Sherlock, looking over his shoulder to wink at me, probably knowing full well that Sherlock was still trying to hide from everyone. Sherlock nodded once before hurriedly shutting his father out of the room. I got up and took my coat off, draping it over Sherlock's on the only chair in the room as he had no doubt taken it off when we first arrived. I took off my scarf as well before I caught my hair up in an elastic and pulled it into a messy bun. I made myself at home by kicking off my boots at the foot of the bed and wiggling my sock clad feet on the floor boards. Sherlock was wearing an expression a kin to dread and I crossed over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and staring up at him, getting him to look at me.

"It won't be so bad love. We're only here for two more days. Get through tonight and then we can get through each day together. Besides if they've seen you now, they won't expect a visit for a while," I told Sherlock soothingly, reaching up to card my fingers through his hair because I knew that that calmed him down. "And I think we can torture Mycroft a bit before dinner," I told Sherlock who chuckled slightly at that. I took his hand in mine and reached up on my toes to press a kiss to his jawbone, but he turned at the last second to catch my lips. He smirked at the slight blush on my cheeks as we broke apart and I threw him a cheeky smile before I pulled him from the room.

Sherlock and I walked through the house and joined the others in the living room. Sherlock immediately pulled me to the vacant love seat which sat across from the two chairs that his parents were occupying. We had a coffee table between us which seemed to not be enough for Sherlock as he sat rigidly beside me while I on the other hand got comfortable and tucked my feet under me as I leaned against Sherlock's shoulder. Mycroft was hiding out in a chair over by the window, as far from us as possible. The living room had more knick knacks and lacy dollies about the place and a fire was going in the fireplace to our right, the mantelpiece covered in pictures of a young Sherlock and Mycroft. I grinned when I saw one of Sherlock in a pirate's hat, hugging the neck of an Irish setter. He never mentioned having pets as a child before to me. Hmm, I would ask his father about it later. Sherlock never mentioned anything that he didn't want to talk about and I wouldn't press him. I bit back a giggle when I saw a picture of Mycroft in his school outfit. Ah, they were just like any other parents, fascinated with taking pictures of everything. Sherlock hadn't changed much, he still had his unruly curls as a boy, and his Cupid's bow lips. The only difference now was that his face had been more angelic back then and now it had grown sharper as he grew into his cheek bones. I could smell something good coming from the kitchen and I could expect nothing less since Mummy Holmes had been sharing all her recipes with me. She smiled at Sherlock and me when we sat down together and her eyes drifted downwards to our conjoined hands. I rubbed my thumb over Sherlock's knuckles to comfort him as he continued to sit rigidly as he stared at his parents, his face blank.

"There now, we're all together," Mummy Holmes said happily as she threw a look over her shoulder at Mycroft. "It's nice to have my boys together again," She continued as Mycroft groaned over in his chair. He looked like he was ready to have a mental breakdown or as if I was physically torturing him. I grinned over at him as he glared back at me. "Now Lexi," Mrs. Holmes said drawing my attention back to her. Both boys looked pleased that they were being left alone and slightly gleeful that she was turning her attentions to me now. "You're a consulting detective like Sherlock right?" Mummy Holmes asked me and I nodded at her.

"Yes, I actually started back in Dublin before I moved to London," I told her and she nodded back at me in understanding.

"I think I remember you saying something about that before on one of our calls," Mummy Holmes said and we laughed together as a look of dread passed over Sherlock and Mycroft's faces.

"I think so, when I called you at Christmas if I remember correctly," I told her and Sherlock made a strangled sound beside me which she and I ignored. Papa Holmes looked rather amused and he had a twinkle in his eye as he caught my gaze and winked at me.

"Yes and thank you for the gift you sent us dear," Mummy Holmes told me and I grinned back at her. "We loved the concert didn't we Father?" Mummy Holmes asked as she looked at her husband and he nodded back at her in confirmation. I got the feeling that he wasn't quiet so much so as he didn't get to talk a lot. "Ever so thoughtful Sherlock," Mummy Holmes said, looking at her son fondly who nodded at his mother, smiling smugly ass Mycroft threw daggers at the both of us.

"Well I do try," Sherlock told his mother and I raised my eyebrow slightly as I smiled at him in amusement. He hadn't sent her anything, it had been me who remembered to send them a card and a gift for Christmas.

"It's nice to see you two together. When I talked to Lexi before I had hoped…," Mummy Holmes said, trailing off as she looked between Sherlock and me knowingly. "Mike told us…," She started again as Sherlock shifted uncomfortably beside me before Mycroft cut her off.

"It's Mycroft mother if you can bother to struggle to the end," Mycroft told his mother before a well-aimed pillow smacked him in the face. Mycroft looked utterly stunned and Sherlock chuckled at his brother's plight as Mr. Holmes let out a chortle. Mrs. Holmes looked rather amused as I shot a look over to Mycroft with one eyebrow raised.

"Rude," I told Mycroft who seemed to realize what had been thrown at him as he bent down to retrieve the pillow which had fallen to his feet. "And you're lucky that was just a pillow," I warned Mycroft as he glared back at me. I was too far away from him to smack him like I would Sherlock if he was being rude.

"The pair of you, acting like children," Mummy Holmes scolded her sons as she turned round to look at Mycroft. "You're both adults, honestly," She said in exasperation as she looked back at me. "They were worse when they were younger, but it seems that age hasn't changed everything," She told me and I nodded at her, smiling knowingly.

"I can imagine. Sherlock and I drive our flatmate John crazy all the time," I told Mummy Holmes and her husband chuckled at that. Sherlock and I drove John crazy with a lot of things we did, but our experiments were what normally did it.

"John, that's the army doctor fellow you told me about right?" Mummy Holmes asked me and I nodded at her in confirmation.

"He writes about your cases doesn't he, that woman in pink one?" Papa Holmes asked me and Sherlock sighed in exasperation and looked away at the mention of that case.

"Yes, that was A Study in Pink, our first case together. I like to call it The Case of the Killer Cabbie. It was rather interesting," I told him as Mycroft pulled a face. "It was that case that got me consulting again. I gave it up for a bit to do other things," I told them, skirting around the fact that I had been kidnapped and nearly killed. Sherlock and Mycroft seemed to keep the danger of their jobs out of their parents' knowledge. I rubbed my thumb over Sherlock's knuckles as he looked back over at us, his teeth gritted slightly.

"It must not be safe doing that kind of work," Mummy Holmes said worriedly and I shrugged at her.

"Not all the time no, but even when it gets more dangerous we look out for each other and John was an army doctor. Between him and me we manage to keep everyone safe," I assured the older woman. I could tell that she worried about her boys a lot even if her worry went over looked.

"That's something then," Papa Holmes said before he continued. "What is life without someone to share it with and depend upon?" He asked us as he looked over at his wife fondly. I could tell from the way they looked at each other that they loved each other greatly. It was nice to see them together and it was what I hoped that Sherlock and I might have someday together. We hadn't talked about marriage yet, but Sherlock had brought the subject up recently. I wasn't exactly sure what his views on marriage were though.

Of course Sherlock and I hadn't progressed our relationship any further than it was now. Neither of us were ready for "dancing" just yet, but we had grown very comfortable around each other to the point where we did tease each other about it. We had settled in to a good routine together and we both knew that we could depend upon each other for anything. That level of comfort normally came with time, but with Sherlock it was always there. A timer went off in the kitchen signalling that it was time for dinner. I got up and followed Mummy Holmes into the kitchen after Papa Holmes nodded at me to assure me that he would make sure that Mycroft and Sherlock didn't start anything while I was gone. The five of us joined each other in the dining room off of the living room after Mummy Holmes and I brought the food through to the table. Sherlock pulled the chair out next to him and I sat down across from Mycroft as Papa and Mummy Holmes took their seats at the heads of the table. For the first few minutes things went really well as the food was passed around. Mummy Holmes had made a roasted chicken with stuffing and vegetables along with a trifle for desert. We started to eat, Sherlock picking at his food, which was when Mycroft started making comments. I knew that he was only doing it to embarrass Sherlock in front of their parents.

"Alexandria, do tell how you've managed to put up with Sherlock for so long?" Mycroft asked, flashing me what he no doubt thought was a pleasant smile. Sherlock shifted uncomfortably next to me, not comfortable with his brother talking about our relationship. He kept his head down and pushed his food around his plate. Sherlock was still self-conscious even after I assured him that I loved him exactly the way he was.

"Because we understand each other Mike," I told him, smirking at him as I used the nickname he hated so much. "What about Joanna? She talks about you all the time," I asked Mycroft, raising an eyebrow at him as I popped a bite of chicken into my mouth. I grinned at Mycroft and squeezed Sherlock's knee under the table as Mycroft paled noticeably.

"Oh, who's Joanna Mike?" Mummy Holmes asked her son, looking up at him in interest as only a mother would. That was entirely my idea after all.

"No body of importance mother," Mycroft tried to tell her, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. "Alexandria was just…," Mycroft said before I cut him off, turning to Mummy Holmes. I caught Papa Holmes eye and he looked rather amused. I could tell that he knew exactly what I was doing.

"Oh really, because she just adores you. Tells me about you all the time. Won't shut up in fact," I carried on as Mycroft glared at me murderously. Sherlock schooled his face so that he was staring back at his brother passively, but I smirked at Mycroft. I gave him a look that was a warning. Every time he brought up Sherlock and me, I would give his mother something to ask him about. If he was smart than he would quit when he was ahead.

Mycroft finally managed to get his mother to stop asking him questions about Joanna part way through dinner and we managed to make it through dessert without any more catastrophes. Mummy Holmes sent me to go and sit after dinner when I tried to help her clean up and she enlisted her sons to clean the dishes. I grinned at Sherlock and patted him on the arm before I left him with Mycroft to clean up. The bonding time would be good for them. I stayed in the kitchen to talk with their mother as I made tea for us. I meant what I had said when I told Sherlock that I wasn't going to leave him alone again. Once the boys finished cleaning up, Mycroft looking very disgruntled, we all went back to the living room with our tea. I was quite sure that Mycroft never had to clean up after himself because the British Government had his own cleaning service, but Sherlock and I often did the dishes together when we didn't have a case on. I cuddled up to Sherlock on the love seat and he relaxed slightly more than he had earlier. He still looked rather uncomfortable though. My eyes fell on a beautiful violin that rested in a stand near the wall and Mr. Holmes followed my gaze down to it.

"Do you play?" Papa Holmes asked me and I nodded as he stood up to retrieve it for me.

"The viola actually," I told him and I set my tea down on the coffee table before he handed me over the violin so that I could inspect it closer.

"I taught Sherlock how to play when he was a boy," Papa Holmes told me and I looked at Sherlock side long to see that he looked rather thoughtful. I rested the violin against my shoulder as I got a feel for it. "Who taught you if you don't mind me asking?" He asked me as he handed the bow over to me.

"My grandfather bought me my first viola when I was ten but my father Alistair taught me. He was the more musically inclined," I told him with a laugh before I played a few notes of Braham's lullaby. Mummy Holmes encouraged me to play more when I stopped so I played her a light Irish melody that Alistair had taught me when I first started playing. Sherlock watched me, his hand on my knee, as I played. "Sherlock plays the violin better than I do," I said when I finished, lowering the instrument and handing it back to Sherlock's father.

"I doubt that my dear," Papa Holmes told me with a chuckle. "Sherlock, I'm sure you and your lovely lady are both tired from your trip. Why don't you and Lexi settle down in the library for a bit before bed? I'm sure you can use the quiet after all of your cases," Papa Holmes suggested and Sherlock nodded at him, looking grateful before we both got up and said good night to his parents and Mycroft. Sherlock dragged me to the quiet of our room rather than the library however.

As soon as he closed the door behind us he let out a frustrated sound and started pacing a path through the stacks of books. I let him pace as I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, watching him closely. After a while he finally calmed down a bit and walked over to me, ducking down so that he could bury his face in my hair. I wrapped my arms around his waist and just sat there, letting him play with my hair. After a while Sherlock moved and sat down beside me on the bed, wrapping his arms around me. We sat like that for a bit before I pulled back and kissed him on the top of his head. I grabbed my pyjamas from my bag and slipped out into the hall, crossing over into the bathroom. I changed quickly before I brushed my teeth and braided my hair. I padded back into our room to find Sherlock already lying down in bed in his pyjamas. After putting my clothes back in my suitcase I crawled into bed next to Sherlock who lifted up the sheets for me. He pulled me closely to his chest and buried his face into the crook of my neck, sighing heavily. I turned to face Sherlock and pressed a kiss to his lips before I carded my fingers through his hair. He settled down after a while and I snuggled my head under his chin. We fell asleep after a while and we slept quite comfortably in each other's arms.

The next morning we got up earlier that we usually did at home and we stumbled out to the kitchen together. I made tea for the both of us and Mummy Holmes made us some toast, already knowing that Sherlock didn't eat much and guessed that I was the same way. She suggested that Sherlock take me out on a ride around the village to show me around where he grew up. Sherlock seemed actually excited by this suggestion or as excited as he could be. It meant that we could spend a good part of the day away from his parents and together so Sherlock jumped at the offer. We got dressed after breakfast and when we came back out to the foyer together Mummy Holmes handed us over a picnic basket that she had packed for us. I thanked her before Sherlock ushered me out of the house, just as Mycroft came out of his room, dressed in one of his suits already. I doubted I would ever see Mycroft lounging around in his pyjamas. We drove through the village and Sherlock pointed out various places around the village before he drove us over to a quiet field. We had our picnic there and Sherlock seemed more at ease as we laughed together. I laid my head in his lap and looked up at him as he played with my hair. Sherlock seemed a bit more quiet than usual as he sat with me but I assumed that was because he still wasn't happy with being here.

We shared a bottle of wine that his mother had packet while munching on cheese and crackers and then he fed me the fresh strawberries which I shared with him so that each one ended in a kiss. It was a romantic little moment that we normally didn't get to have in the city. Of course we tried to have picnics on the floor of the flat but it wasn't the same as being up here in the open air. After eating some frankly wonderful chicken parmesan his mother also made for us, Sherlock and I laid back on the blanket together. I curled up on his chest as he pulled out one of my books and started reading to me. There was nothing like getting read Pride and Prejudice by Sherlock. We stole a few more kisses which turned a bit heated at time as we lazed around a bit longer together, Sherlock playing with my hair until it got to be later in the day and I knew we couldn't put off going back any longer. Sherlock had grown a bit strange as the morning wore on, not a bad kind of strange but just strangeish. He would just stare at me intensely as he played with my hair as if he had something on his mind but I knew he would talk to me about it when he was ready to. We ended up getting back to the house in the afternoon and I went to help Mummy Holmes in the kitchen as Sherlock mentioned something about finding his father. I found Mycroft on my way to the kitchen and pulled him with me to help has mother with dinner. I wasn't sure what was going on with Sherlock, but the little look he gave me before he kissed me on the forehead made me wonder what he was up to.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock knocked on the door to his father's library before pushing the door open. His father looked up from his book, reminding him of Lexi and the way she would often do that when he walked into the room when she was reading. That was what he was here to talk about, Lexi. It had come to the point where Sherlock was at a loss as to know what to do. He had been trying to figure out a way to ask her to marry him since when they were at Dartmoor, but he was unsure if he should. He was afraid that she might say no or that it was too soon to ask her. He was assured of her affections, she told him all the time how much she loved him, but maybe she would change her mind if he mentioned wanting to tie himself to her in every way possible. Sherlock never once thought of marriage before. He never thought that he would get married because he never thought that he would find someone that would want to marry him. Lexi however… he never wanted to lose her and after he almost lost her because of Irene, he was assured of the fact that he wanted nothing else than to be able to call her his. Despite how he felt, Sherlock still didn't know how to ask her which was why he was here to talk to his father. Sherlock had always been rather close to his father since he was a boy. His father was the one that taught him how to play the violin and had understood him the most. He had encouraged Sherlock's love for crimes and often would write up some for him to solve. It wasn't that his mother didn't care, but she had always understood Mycroft more. When Mycroft went off to school, Sherlock had gotten Redbeard to keep him company. If anyone could understand what he was feeling right now his father could. Besides, he had already gone through this before. Sherlock had thought about asking Gavin but he had quickly shot down this idea.

"Come in and sit my boy," His father told him and Sherlock walked over and sat down in the chair across from his father like he would often do when he was a child. "I know that face, it is the face of a man who is about to make a decision but doesn't know what choice to make," He father said as Sherlock adopted his prayer pose. "What's troubling you?" His father asked him and Sherlock fixed his gaze upon his father.

"Lexi, I've…I've thought about asking her, well asking…asking her to marry me and I'm not sure how to," Sherlock said, for the first time in his life not knowing how to do something. It was an unusual feeling for him. He always knew the answer to every puzzle or problem but now he honestly had no clue how to approach the subject. Sentiment and anything related to it had long been a mystery to him.

"Then what seems to be the problem? It's easy to see that she loves you. Ask her outright before you lose your nerve. I was unsure how to ask your mother at first, but I asked her before I could lose my wits. The woman in the Holmes family have always been strong and your Lexi is no different. You two are better suited for each other than most. There is no wrong way to ask her," His father assured him and Sherlock nodded in understanding. His mother walked into the room then and Sherlock froze rigidly as he could deduce from his mother's face that she had caught the last part of their conversation.

"And if you don't ask her you will have me to listen to young man. That girl is exactly what you needed and…," His mother carried on before Sherlock tried to interrupt her.

"I know," Sherlock said before his mother cut over him.

"I will not have you let a girl like that get away…," His mother continued before Sherlock finally managed to stop her.

"I know!" Sherlock said louder than before which quieted her. "And I don't intend too," Sherlock added and his mother nodded.

"Have you gotten a ring yet? " His mother asked him and Sherlock shook his head. He hadn't gotten that far yet. "You can have your grandmother's ring if you'd like. She seems like the sort to like more old fashioned things," His mother offered him and Sherlock felt a great deal of gratitude towards the woman.

"That would be…agreeable," Sherlock told his mother who grinned back at him.

"You'd better ask her soon young man before she starts wondering what your intentions are," His mother told him and Sherlock nodded minutely before Lexi called through the house. Sherlock jumped up before she could find them all there, knowing that she could deduce his parents just as well as he could. He headed her off as she started down the hall and she told him that dinner was ready. He assured her that he would get his parents and she shrugged and kissed his cheek before she headed back to the kitchen. Sherlock sighed in relief and got his parents to join them for dinner.

Dinner was tense like the night before but more a lot different reasons. Mycroft kept his mouth shut this time around but Sherlock was worried that he or Lexi might deduce something or that his parents might let something slip. Sherlock watched Lexi all throughout dinner and he thought about the way he could ask her. He was comforted slightly by his father's words, but he was still nervous about what he answer might be. He was unaware of what her thoughts on marriage might be or even if she ever considered marriage after how her parents' marriage had been. Sherlock didn't eat much during dinner even if Lexi had made her famous potato dish that he liked. Sherlock learned that she and his mother had been sharing recipes for a while now and thus that was why she often made things that he liked. Lexi was thankfully not suspicious of anything, but Mycroft definitely was and was eyeing him. After dinner his mother sent Mycroft to help Lexi clean up the kitchen as she had insisted upon cleaning up tonight. Sherlock went and paced the length of the living room as his father sat in his chair and his mother disappeared before she came back into the room and handed Sherlock a ring box. Sherlock quickly hid it in the pocket of his trousers as Lexi came out of the kitchen grinning.

"Why don't you and Sherlock go take a walk out in the garden, it's a beautiful night out," His mother suggested to Lexi, giving Sherlock a meaningful look and Sherlock fought back a groan as Lexi turned her gaze over to him. His mother couldn't leave well enough alone could she? Sherlock knew that she wouldn't stop pestering him until he finally asked Lexi. Now was as good a time as any though it was not ideal.

"That sounds nice," Lexi said as she held her hand out to him. "Coming Lock?" Lexi asked him, wiggling her hand as Mycroft leaned up against the door way, smirking, no doubt knowing what was going on now. Sherlock nodded swiftly and grabbed her hand, pulling her out the door into the garden before anyone could say anything. It had to be now if he was ever going to do it. Somehow facing a serial killer seemed easier. Sherlock swallowed thickly before mustering his courage as Lexi wrapped an arm around his waist and tucked her head under his arm. He could do this…he hoped.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock seemed slightly tense as we headed down the path together and I had noticed that he had been like that all throughout dinner. I brushed it off as him just being uncomfortable with being here. He seemed a little bit happier now that we were outside and just the two of us. We walked down the path together and Sherlock let me past the bench we had sat at the day before and down to a little wooden gazebo that was surrounded by roses, the vines climbing up the sides of the gazebo. We stepped up under the roof and I smiled up at Sherlock in the light of the setting sun. His face was full of concentration and I reached up and rubbed my thumb over his cheekbones. Sometimes his brain worked two much and he couldn't stop thinking. Sherlock brought his arms down to hold both of my hands in his and he frowned slightly as he looked down at me. I raised my eyebrow at him, wondering what he was thinking before Sherlock took a deep breath as if he was steeling himself to do something. He went to go say something before he thought better of it and let go of my hands, turning around. I waited for him to be ready, just watching him as I waited where I was. He turned around finally and nodded once to himself before he took one more deep breath.

"Lexi," Sherlock started as he walked back over to me and took both of my hands in his again. "I…I don't know how to do this," Sherlock said, looking away from me and biting his lip.

"Do what love?" I asked him in confusion as I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles.

"I don't…," Sherlock said as he let go of my hands and walked over to the edge of the gazebo. He leaned against the railing for a second before he turned back to me, taking a deep breath. "I've never understood sentiment before now. I always believed that caring was not an advantage as Mycroft told me but I realized with you that caring didn't have to be a disadvantage. You have been the exception to every rule that I've ever set myself," Sherlock told me, getting into his stride. He came back over and held my hand as I watched him, unsure of where this was going. I had a feeling, but I was not jumping to any conclusions just yet. "When we met, I wasn't sure what to make of you and I still don't. I could never deduce you and I am still unable to. You… you surprise me every day. I never once considered that I would ever meet someone who would understand the way I see life and that was why I never imagined that…," Sherlock said trailing off before he finally met my gaze. "I love you though I know I don't say it often enough," Sherlock told me in earnest. "I've realized that I don't want to lose you and that nothing would make me happier than if you…," Sherlock said as he knelt down on one knee in front of me. "If you could do me the honour of possibly becoming my wife?" Sherlock asked me hopefully as he looked anxious. I could tell that he was putting himself out there. He was doing something very difficult in asking me to marry him. He didn't normally talk about his emotions like this.

"The honour would be completely mine," I told Sherlock as I pulled him to his feet and kissed him soundly. He lifted me off my feet as he lifted me off the ground. I ran my hands through his curls as he set me back on my feet and we broke apart, needing air. He fumbled around in his pocket and we both laughed as he finally managed to take the ring box out of his pocket. I was surprised over the fact that he had planned this, enough at least to have a ring. He opened the ring box, still looking nervous even after I told my yes.

"If you don't like it I could always get something different," Sherlock told me, stumbling over his words and I looked at him fondly, as for the first time I saw him unsure about something. "It was my grandmothers…," Sherlock said before I cut him off with another kiss.

"I love it," I told him honestly and he took it out of the box as I offered him my left hand.

"It goes on the left hand right?" He asked me and I giggled at him, unable to contain myself.

"Yes, it does," I told him as he finally slid it onto my finger I tackled him then and he dropped the ring box in surprise and grabbed my legs as I wrapped them around his waist. I cupped his check with one hand and looked down at him. "No one has ever loved you more than me," I told Sherlock, gazing at him as he looked back at me. "I love you and what I want more than anything is to be able to spend the rest of forever with you. You've made me happier than anyone ever could. I'm not afraid to be myself with you and I thank every deity that exists that I met you," I told Sherlock honestly and he kissed me fiercely. That kiss lasted a while and he helped me down to my feet after we broke apart. I wiggled my fingers on my left hand as I looked down at my left hand. "Um wow…," I said, looking down at the ring he had given me. "Did we seriously just get engaged?" I asked Sherlock and he smirked down at me.

"Apparently so," Sherlock told me and we both laughed, his baritone chuckle mixing with my bell like laugh. We lingered in the gazebo and shared a few more kisses before we headed back up to the house together. From the way Mrs. Holmes was looking out the window at us as we started back up the path, I could tell that she knew. We walked back in the house and Mr. Holmes opened a bottle of champagne and we shared a toast, including Mycroft who actually congratulated the two of us. He looked slightly worried however and I heard him mutter that England was now in danger. After a bit of celebrating Sherlock and I slipped back to our room and after changing into our pyjamas we snuggled in bed together. That night when we fell asleep I slept with a smile on my face, still unable to comprehend the fact that we were now engaged.

The next morning Sherlock and I packed up to head back to London as we had only been able to take three days. We couldn't stay longer since we had more clients we had to put off for when we got home. Mycroft left as early as he possibly could but Sherlock and I decided to head back after lunch. He seemed a lot more at ease now than he was before. I managed to talk to Mr. Holmes and I did ask him about Redbeard when I got a chance to. I found out that he was Sherlock's dog but he had to be put down when he got older. Sherlock hadn't taken it well. He named him Redbeard because that was when Sherlock had been going through his pirate faze. He went by Billy then but after Redbeard died he started asking them to call him Sherlock. I understood now why Sherlock said his skull was named Billy. It would always be Yorrick to me though. I also understood that that was when Sherlock stopped caring, because it hurt every time he did. Redbeard had been his only friend growing up. When I saw Sherlock again after that I gave him a long hug, burying my face into his chest. I knew that he could deduce what I had found out. He kissed the top of my head after running his hand through my hair. We said goodbye to Papa and Mummy. Holmes and I promised to call Mummy soon and talk to her. I knew that while Sherlock and I were engaged now a wedding probably wouldn't happen for a while. Life always seemed to get in the way for us. I could image us in the middle of the ceremony before we rushed off to go catch some serial killer, me running through London in my wedding dress. Life was never normal for either of us and married life would be no different when we got to that point but one thing would always be the same, we would always solve cases together.

We drove back into Cambridge and got on a train back to London. I gave John a call to let him know we were headed back at he told me that he was spending the day with her sister since she had come down to London again so he probably wouldn't be at the flat when we got back in. Sherlock and I cuddled together on the train and this time around we sat quietly together, just enjoying being close to one another. After a cab ride back to the flat, Sherlock and I finally got to walk up the stair and walk into our flat again. Sherlock set our bags down at the door before he kissed me, smiling and in a lot brighter spirits. Mrs. Hudson came up in the afternoon to greet us and she brought us up some tea and sandwiches for us as she said that she knew we probably wouldn't do much since we were both getting back in. She also handed us a piece of mail that had come in after John had already gone out. Sherlock and I sat together on the couch and I frowned as I turned the envelope around to see that it was addressed to both of us, only it just had our names on it. It had been dropped off personally, it hadn't gone through the mail. The writing on it was masculine and from the indents on the envelope, angrily written. Sherlock looked at me with his eyebrows furrowed before he opened the envelope, the only thing inside it was a single slip of paper which only had five words written on it in the same script and with the same amount of pressure. **Are you ready to play the game again?** Sherlock dropped the paper and looked back at me before we both got up. Sherlock set a fire going in the fireplace and we stood next to each other as I threw the paper into the fire.

Sherlock and I sat across from each other, both of us in our think poses and we knew that the battle was just about to begin again. We agreed that it wasn't a good idea to tell John just yet. Our engagement had to be a secret for right now, least Moriarty find out about it. It was bad enough that he knew we were together now and could use that against us but we couldn't let him find out about this. I put my engagement ring on a sliver chain as the ring was silver instead of gold and vintage in design. There was one large diamond with four smaller diamonds on each side and a leaf pattern was etched along the band. I felt bad having to hide it under my shirt but we had no choice. When John came back to the flat later that night we acted like nothing was wrong and after catching up with him a bit we went to bed. That night Sherlock and I made a promise that whatever happened to us in the next months to come, whatever happened when Moriarty came back, we would find a way out of it together. Every once in a while in the middle of our ordinary lives, love gives us a fairytale. Sherlock and I's story was not like that. It was a story of adventure and loss and more than anyone could ever imagine, but it was our story and I was going to make sure that it had a happy ending because it was time that we both finally got one.


	77. Finding The Precipice

***Melody comes running in a skids to a stop nearly crashing into a table* Okay woah hello sweeties! Sorry for my lateness. You have Marci to thank for reminding me it was even Tuesday. My days are falling into each other now and college is getting a bit blah so I apologize that this is getting posted late but hey, let us begin the Fall. As for this, your questions or some of them might get answered in the first bit or leave you with more. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Five- Finding The Precipice<strong>

**Third Person POV**

John Watson sat in a chair as rain poured down outside the window and thunder rumbled in the distance. He looked tired and his face was full of pain. This…this was never supposed to happen. This was something he never expected to happen but it did and now John was here. Because…because, he couldn't even say it… and he could barely think it either. He should have seen, should have realized what was going on and maybe he could have stopped it… but he was too late. And so here he was the survivor of it all, but for what? Why? Why did he survive it?

"Why today?" Ella asked, his therapist sitting opposite him, and John frowned enquiringly.

"D'you want to hear me say it?" John asked her incredulously. Hadn't he been through enough already?

"Eighteen months since our last appointment," Ella said calmly. Of course she could be calm, she wasn't the one who had….

"D'you read the papers?" John asked her, his voice becoming quietly angry. All she wanted to do was to hear him say it as if that would make a difference, but it would change anything.

"Sometimes," Ella told him and John bit the inside of his cheek.

"Mmm, and you watch telly? You know why I'm here," John told her, gesturing to his chair, a pained groan in his voice as he ended the sentence. "I'm here because ...," John said before his voice broke and he couldn't continue. He looked down, swallowing hard while he fought back tears.

"What happened, John?" Ella asked him, leaning forward sympathetically. He didn't want the sympathy of a person that could never understand though because everyone all thought…. John closed his eyes, trying to get control of himself and then he looked up at her again, his eyes full of loss. He cleared his throat and breathed heavily.

"Sher...," He said, his voice broke and he couldn't continue. He cleared his throat again, swallowing hard.

"You need to get it out," Ella told him gently and for the first time she was right. He did, he needed to say it.

"My best friends... Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna ...," John said softly, his voice full of pain and tears. He sniffed, forcing his voice through the anguish. "...are dead," John finished before he broke and began to cry.

**THREE MONTHS EARLIER**

In an art gallery, the Director of the gallery was just finishing his speech as he stood near a painting.

"Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Ms. Alexandria MacKenna," The Director finished and the patrons applauded. Sherlock, Lexi, and John were standing nearby, Sherlock's hand on the small of Lexi's back as she looked rather unamused. The Director gave a small gift-wrapped box to each of the consulting detectives. "A small token of our gratitude," The Director said as Sherlock and Lexi took their boxes, looking at them.

"Diamond cufflinks. All my cuffs have buttons and Lexi rarely wears earrings," Sherlock said as Lexi raised her eyebrow ever so slightly at him, the two detectives having one of their famous silent conversations.

"They mean thank you," John told the Director who looked a bit offended.

"Do we?" Sherlock asked the army doctor, frowning in confusion as he looked at Lexi who nodded at him minutely.

"Just say it," John told the two of them who had somehow gotten worse in the last few weeks.

"Thank you," Sherlock and Lexi told the Director in unison, Sherlock insincerely and Lexi with feigned gratitude. They both started to walk away but John held them back.

"Hey," John told them and they unwilling stopped so that the press could start taking photographs. Later, one of the photographs appeared in a newspaper article headed "Heroes of the Reichenbach". The straplines reading "Turner masterpiece recovered by 'amateurs'; "Scotland Yard embarrassed by overlooked clues".

**"Heroes of the Reichenbach"**

**A Turner masterpiece worth £1.7million that was stolen from an auction house ten days ago has been recovered by two amateur detectives from North London. Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria "Lexi" MacKenna of Baker Street have been investigating the art crime together simply as a hobby, and yet they were able to follow the trail that lead them to the famous work – a trail that Scotland Yard missed completely. Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna have gained cult following, following the publication of their websites– The Science of Deduction and the Art of Crime along with blogger John Watson's blog about each of the amateur detectives' cases. What can we expect from these rising stars next?**

**"Top Banker Kidnapped"**

**Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna were last night being hailed heroes yet again for masterminding the daring escape of the kidnapped man. Scotland Yard had to secretly bring in their special weapons (in the form of Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna) yet again. The case has drawn a huge amount of attention as the nation became divided about the outcome of the kidnapping. Bankers are certainly not the nation's sweethearts anymore, but Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna certainly seem to be. As huge crowds gathered for the press conference, Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna were presented with a gift from the banker and his family.**

Outside the banker's house, the rescued man was standing with his arms around his wife and young son and the press filmed and photographed them while Sherlock, Lexi, and John stood uncomfortably nearby, the three of them pulling faces as they were forced to be part of this press conference.

"Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal; and we have two people to thank for my deliverance – Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," The banker said and as the public applauded, the boy smiled and offered a small gift-wrapped box to Sherlock and Lexi. They both accepted them and Sherlock rattled his box briefly.

"Tie pin. I don't wear ties," Sherlock told John quietly. "And since when has Lexi ever worn bracelets?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi patted his arm, smiling up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Shh," John told Sherlock, amazed that Lexi hadn't smacked him for being rude. She had been letting him say a lot of things lately that normally she would have been against. He knew that she wasn't fond of these press meetings either saying that the only reason they got gifts at all was because it looked good for the press. In other words, she didn't think very highly of them after they gave them their obligatory gift. The press started taking pictures of the trio again and a photograph of the scene appeared in the next edition of the newspaper, headed "Reichenbach heroes find kidnap victim".

A week later the trio found themselves at Scotland Yard where D.I. Greg Lestrade was addressing a press conference. Sherlock, Lexi, and John stand nearby, and Donovan and Anderson were standing in the back of the room closely watching the three of them.

"Peter Ricoletti, number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since 1982. But we got him; and there's two people we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads ... with all their customary diplomacy and tact!" Lestrade said and Sherlock smiled insincerely towards Greg, Lexi smiling at him as well but with one eyebrow raised in warning. John leaned closer to the consulting detectives and spoke to them in hushed tones.

"Sarcasm?"

"Yes," Sherlock told him as Lexi gave an "Aye" in response. As the press applauded, Greg walked over to Sherlock and Lexi and gave them each a gift-wrapped package, smiling cheerfully.

"We all chipped in," Greg told them and it was apparent what Lexi's gift was by how it was wrapped. While the two detectives tore open the wrapping paper, Donovan and Anderson grinned expectantly. Sherlock pulled out a deerstalker hat while Lexi pulled out a red fedora with the black hounds tooth design on it.

"Oh!" Sherlock said, trying to smile as Lexi shook her head and laughed at bit as she looked up at Sherlock, her eyes twinkling brightly.

"Put the hats on! Put the hats on!" Some of the reporters shouted at them and the two detectives looked at each other, Lexi biting her lip as she had a silent conversation with Sherlock

"Yeah, Sherlock, Lexi, put them on!" Lestrade told them and Lexi raised her eyebrow dangerously at him which made the man slightly fearful, but not enough to stop poking fun at them. Sherlock and Lexi both looked at the reporters as if they would like nothing more than to kill them and John was sure that Lexi could find several imaginable ways to do so. John cleared his throat uncomfortably to get their attention.

"Just get it over with," John told them quietly and Lexi sighed. Sherlock glowered at him before both detectives shoved the wrapping paper into the army doctor's hands. They looked once at each other before they both unhappily put the hats onto their heads. Flashbulbs went mad and everyone applauded again. At the back of the room, Donovan clapped with sarcastic delight while Anderson, the bastard, grinned smugly. Sherlock and Lexi smiled at the press through gritted teeth and glanced at Greg as if promising him a world of pain later. Sherlock kept a hand on the small of Lexi's back and John noticed for the first time as she turned slightly that she was wearing a silver chain around her neck, the pendant hidden under the top of her green blouse. Sometime later, the "Daily Star" printed a World Exclusive on its front page: "Boffin Sherlock and Maverick MacKenna solve another" with the strapline: "Hero 'Tecs crack 'unsolvable' case".

**Lexi's POV**

Life at Baker Street had been busier than normal. Three days after Sherlock and I returned from his parents' house and we received the message from Moriarty, the Turner masterpiece Falls of the Reichenbach was stolen from an auction house. Lestrade called us in to consult on the case and it took us ten days before we were able to track down and recover the painting. That was the beginning of the press storm. After that a banker had been kidnapped which Lestrade asked us again to consult on and we found the man and returned him to his family. Then we found the man responsible for his kidnapping who was number one on Interpol's Most Wanted List. The cases kept us busy and kept us from worrying about Moriarty for a while. Sherlock and I, though we had to hide our engagement to protect everyone, were closer and the press seemed to notice that. We were hailed Heroes of the Reichenbach and it was hard to go anywhere in the city without the press finding us. Of course that made hiding our engagement all the harder. It also made our jobs all the harder. The public, including criminals now knew the names Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna. Our consulting detective business wasn't so private anymore. Sherlock and I hated the press coverage not only because the press was trying to dig into our lives to find out more about us but also because we were trying to keep a low profile due to Moriarty. It had been a few weeks and we hadn't heard any more from him. John's birthday came and went and Sherlock and I began to relax a little bit. We were still careful, still on edge, but if Moriarty wanted to play the game with us again, something should have happened by now or at least that was what we thought.

The day after our press conference at Scotland Yard, the three of us were enjoying a nice, quiet morning in the flat. John was sitting on the sofa reading the papers while Sherlock, wearing his blue dressing gown over this shirt and trousers, stomped across the room and threw the Daily Star onto the growing pile of newspapers on the coffee table. I looked up at Sherlock from where I sat in his chair, wearing his red dressing gown over my grey spaghetti strap tank top and loose, black cotton shorts. I set my tea down on the side table and stood up, smiling at Sherlock fondly when he flicked his gaze over at me. The irritation he had written all over his face softened and he looked at me lovingly as I walked over to him and kissed his jaw bone.

""Boffin". "Boffin Sherlock Holmes"," Sherlock told John indignantly as I moved over to sit down on one of the dining chairs as Sherlock started pacing around the living room. "And Maverick MacKenna?" Sherlock added with a scoff.

"Everybody gets one," John said as he flipped through the newspapers. I looked over and skimmed the pages which all had articles about us now. They were still calling us the Baker Street Irregulars after that had been picked up by the press from my website.

"One what?" Sherlock asked John as I looked up at him, a smile on my face. It was hard not to smile these days. I was happier than I had ever been in my life and nothing could really ruin that for me, not even Moriarty.

"Tabloid nickname: 'SuBo'; 'Nasty Nick'. Shouldn't worry – I'll probably get one soon," John told us and I smirked as Sherlock turned his back and started walking over to the fireplace.

"Page five, column six, first sentence," Sherlock told him and I bit my lip as John turned to the relevant page. We all had a tabloid name now. Sherlock walked over to the fireplace and picked up his deerstalker, holding it up and punching it angrily. I stood up and shook my head at him "Why is it always the hat photographs?" Sherlock asked me as I sat down on the arm of his chair in front of him.

"Because they like it love. It's iconic and it works well with the Boffin and Maverick imagery that they are trying to create. And the names could be worse after all," I said just as John finally found his tabloid name.

""Bachelor John Watson"?" John asked us indignantly, looking at the newspaper article.

"What sort of hat is it anyway?" Sherlock asked me as he stared down at the hat looking disgusted and I bit back a laugh at both the boys' antics.

""Bachelor"? What the hell are they implying?" John asked us as Sherlock held up the hat and twisted it back and forth rapidly.

"Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" Sherlock asked me continuing on and I did laugh then.

"It's a deerstalker love," I told him as John glance up at us briefly before he read more of the article.

""Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson ..."" John continued sounding more exasperated and indignant the more he read.

"You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do – throw it?" Sherlock asked me as he mimed throwing it. I could see from the little glint in his eyes that he was continuing with his line of inquiry just to make me laugh.

"Possibly, I throw almost everything," I told him and he looked over at me knowingly, no doubt remembering everything I had thrown at him and even Mycroft in the past.

""...confirmed bachelor John Watson"!" John said more loudly, looking at another part of the article.

"Some sort of death Frisbee?" Sherlock asked me as he mimed throwing it again and I laughed at that, shaking my head at him as his mouth quirked up ever so slightly into a smirk of triumph.

"It could be with some modifications," I told him and his smirk grew wider at that.

"Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful," John told us as Sherlock and I turned to face John who was watching us with a serious expression.

"It's got flaps ... ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John," Sherlock said and he accurately skimmed the hat across the room to John, who didn't have to do more than bend his wrist to catch it. "What do you mean, "more careful"?" Sherlock asked John, frowning in confusion at John, but flicking his gaze over to me and sharing a look with me. This was something we had been closely monitoring and watchful of from the start.

"I mean this isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat and the fedora is now a Lexi MacKenna hat. I mean that you two are not exactly private detectives anymore," John told us as he held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "You two are this far from famous," John told us and I nodded at him once. We were very close to being famous if we weren't already.

"Oh, it'll pass," Sherlock told John as he slumped down into his armchair next to me and folded his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth.

"It always does. We're interesting now but the public always loses interest when something new and shiny is flashed in front of them. Sooner or later we'll be old news and things will quiet down again," I told John before letting out a squeak as Sherlock pulled me off the arm of the chair and onto his lap. I smacked him on the arm as he smirked down at me and I could hold my mock scolding look for long before I grinned at him and snuggled against his chest.

"It'd better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock, Lexi. They always turn, and they'll turn on you two," John told us, pointing at the two of us, and we turned our gaze away from each other and over to our army doctor, looking at John more closely.

"It really bothers you," Sherlock said as I sat up more on Sherlock's lap so that my back was resting against his front and his arms were holding me to him around my waist.

"What?" John asked us and I frowned slightly at him in thought.

"What people say," I told him as I studied him closely.

"Yes," John told us, looking back at us seriously.

"About us? I don't understand – why would it upset you?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor held our gaze for a moment before he looked away from us.

"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourselves a little case this week. Stay out of the news," John told us and Sherlock and I looked back at each other. John was right, we were getting a bit too big and we needed to be careful. We were still waiting to hear from Moriarty and I had a feeling that he wouldn't keep us waiting for too long.

**Third Person POV**

**TOWER OF LONDON 11:00**

Tourists were walking about in the grounds, looking around, talking to the Beefeaters, taking photographs. One tourist wearing jeans, trainers, a light grey jacket and a cap with "London" printed on it and with a union flag on the peak was aiming his camera phone around and taking pictures like all the others, but this tourist appeared to be more interested in the security staff than anything else and maybe that was because he wasn't a tourist, he was Jim Moriarty. The other thing that piqued his interest was the sign pointing the way to the Crown Jewels. He lowered his camera, chewing nonchalantly on a piece of gum, and grinned. Daddy had work to do now.

**Lexi's POV**

After our conversation, Sherlock and I did find a case that would help us keep a low profile over the next week. We started running some experiments we had been neglecting lately as we were busy and we found a small case that wouldn't garner too much press coverage. John was right in saying that we needed to be careful and Sherlock and I were expecting to hear from Moriarty any day now. Our phones kept thrilling our text alerts and we both ignored them. Even I couldn't be bothered to get up and check my mobile. I was sitting in a chair next to Sherlock at the kitchen table writing out chemical formulas as Sherlock looked into his microscope. I was exactly where I wanted to be right now and Sherlock had one hand on my knee, rubbing circles on it, as I waited for him to be done at the microscope. Sherlock's phone trilled his text alert in the living room again as John came along the corridor that led from our rooms with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and towelling the back of his neck dry.

"It's your phone," John told us as I turned slightly to look back at him, lazily.

"Mm. They keep doing that," Sherlock told him disinterestedly. John walked into the living room, walking past the body in a suit which was hanging by its neck from the ceiling and sat down in his chair before picking up a newspaper which he hadn't finished reading earlier. The body swayed gently in the breeze.

"So, did you two just talk to him for a really long time?" John joked and I looked over at him, humming slightly in amusement. Sherlock looked up and glanced across to the body. In all fairness hanging the mannequin had been my idea and it worked out rather well. It was easier than I thought it was going to be and had barely taken us five minutes after we pulled the mannequin we acquired from my old room.

"Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide," Sherlock told him as he picked up an old hardback book from the table and slammed it shut in a flurry of dust before going back to his microscope.

"We thought as much but our test confirmed it," I told John as I reached across for the book Sherlock had just closed. He handed it over to me without looking up from his microscope and I opened it to a different page than he had been on before so that I could check one of my theories.

"Bow Street Runners, missed everything," Sherlock told John as he looked closely into his microscope. He tapped me once on the arm and I looked up as he gestured for me to take a look. I got up and sat on his lap, taking a look into the microscope.

"Pressing case, is it?!" John asked us sarcastically but I could tell that he was also checking to see if we had actually listened to him.

"They're all pressing 'til they're solved," Sherlock told John as I fiddled with the dials on the side of the microscope, taking one last look at our specimen before I leaned back against Sherlock's chest and turned to grin down at him.

"And this one will be solved before the day is out," I added before I bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Sherlock's lips before I got up to make us some coffee. Of course I had no idea that our quiet day of solving a case in the flat was about to be interrupted.

**Third Person POV**

At the White Tower in the Tower of London, tourists were passing through a metal detector on their way to see the Crown Jewels. A security man handed some items back to a tourist who had just walked through.

"Put this in your bag, please," The security guard told the tourist before Moriarty walked through the detector which beeped an alarm. "Excuse me, sir," The security guard told Moriarty who was still chewing on his gum. Moriarty stopped and stepped back again. "Any metal objects – keys, mobile phones?" The security guard asked him and, smiling apologetically, Moriarty took his phone out of his pocket and put it into the tray. "You can go through," The security guard told Moriarty who stepped through the detector again, which stayed silent this time. The security man slid the tray across and Moriarty took his phone again. "Thank you," The security guard told him and Moriarty walked on and entered the room.

Moriarty stopped at the large display case in the middle of the room and looked at the throne inside the case. On the throne was a red velvet cushion with an ornate crown resting on it. An equally ornate orb was balanced on one arm of the throne and a sceptre rested across the other arm. As other tourists walked around the case, Moriarty took a pair of earphones from his pocket and poked them into his ears. Bending his head from side to side to crack his neck, he lifted his phone and switches it on, then closed his eyes in bliss, still rolling his head on his neck and spreading his arms on either side of him and then slowly began to lower them as the Overture to Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie" began to play.

In the nearby surveillance room, one of the two men watching the security footage from all around the Tower turned to his colleague.

"Fancy a cuppa, then, mate?" The security guard asked his colleague.

"Yeah, why not?" The second security guard told him and the first man got up and walked away.

**BANK OF ENGLAND 11:00**

A man brought a tray containing a cup and saucer and a milk jug into the office of the bank's Director.

"Gilts at seven; Dutch telecoms in freefall. Thank you, Harvey," The Director told the man bringing him his tea, looking up from his computer. Harvey put the tray down onto the table and left the room again.

**PENTONVILLE PRISON 11:00**

The prison's governor, with an enormous "Keep calm and carry on" mug full of tea on his desk, slammed a file down onto his desk while several warders sat or stood nearby.

"What do you say, refuse them all parole and bring back the rope! Let's begin," The prison's governor told his warders.

At the Tower, Jim finished lowering his arms and then lifted up the phone and scrolled through the app icons on it. He pushed aside the one that had a cartoon of a prisoner with striped prison clothes and standing behind bars, scrolled past the one of a piggy bank with the English flag on it, and selected the one with a crown on it. The icon of the crown unfolded like a padlock being unlocked and digital code began to stream out into the air waves. In the surveillance room alarms began to beep in warning as some of the TV screens went blank. An automated voice played into the White Tower.

"This is an emergency. Please leave the building," The voice said repeated. The tourists started to hurry out of the room. A security guard walked over to Moriarty, assuming that he couldn't hear the alarm through his earphones, and put a hand on his shoulder to attract his attention.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," The security guard told him and Moriarty turned and sprayed something into his face and the security guard immediately collapsed unconscious. The security door closed and locked, and Moriarty took his cap off and smoothed his hair out. In the surveillance room, the man slammed down the cups of tea he was bringing back, grabbed a phone and started to dial.

At Scotland Yard, Sally Donovan hurried across the office and opened the door to Greg's office.

"Sir, there's been a break-in," Donovan told Lestrade who had his feet up on his desk and was drinking coffee and eating a pastry.

"Not our division," Lestrade told her with his mouth full. **(A/N WOOHOO!)**

"You'll want it," Donovan assured him and Lestrade gave her a sceptical look.

At the White Tower, Moriarty scrolled through the apps on his phone and selected the English piggy bank. The piggy bank broke open to reveal many gold coins, and digital code streamed out into the air waves. At the Bank of England, the Director looked down at the cup of tea he was holding as the liquid inside began to shimmer and the building vibrated gently.

"The vault!" The bank director shouted in disbelief and horror. Alarms blared and his screen flashed the alarm "VAULT OPENING". A graphic on the screen showed the door to the vault swinging slowly open. The Director's jaw dropped and he stared in disbelief, his tea cup slowly tilting in his hand until the tea poured out into his lap.

Greg was driving with Donovan across the river with sirens blaring. Sally had just gotten an update of the current situation on her phone.

"Hacked into the Tower of bloody London security?! How?!" Lestrade asked Donovan in disbelief as her phone rang and she answered it quickly. "Tell them we're already on our way," Lestrade told her as Sally listened closely to her call.

"There's been another one; another break-in," Donovan told Lestrade who stared across at her while she listened in shock. "Bank of England!" Donovan shouted back at him in disbelief.

At the White Tower, Moriarty was chomping on his gum while he flamboyantly scrawled a message onto the glass of the display case. Finishing the message, he drew a smiley face inside the letter "O". Lifting his phone once more, he selected the app with the prisoner on it. The bars over the prisoner lifted away and the striped jacket which the icon was wearing turned into a plain black one, then the image changed to a keyhole. Digital code streamed out into the air waves. In Pentonville Prison, the governor was just lifting his mug to his mouth when alarms began to sound. A prison warder burst into the room.

"Sir, security's down, sir. It's failing!" The prison warder shouted at the prison governor in disbelief and the governor surged to his feet, accidentally sweeping his mug off the table and onto the floor.

On the road, Sally got another phone call. Greg looked across to her in exasperation not sure what more could be possibly happening since the two highest security places in the city had already gotten broken into.

"What is it now?" Lestrade asked Donovan, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Pentonville Prison!" Donovan shouted at him and Greg stared at her in utter disbelief.

"Oh no!" He shouted before he put on more speed, not knowing which of the three places was more important for him to be right now.

At the White Tower, Moriarty held his piece of chewing gum between his teeth and pulled the end of it out towards the case and stuck it onto the glass. Leaving the whole piece of gum stuck there, he took a tiny diamond from a box and, grinning manically, carefully pressed the jewel into the gum. Turning away from the case, he slipped his jacket off and dropped it to the floor, revealing a plain white V-necked T-shirt underneath. He then raised his arms upwards on either side above his head in an almost balletic flourish. Outside, police cars and vans began to pour into the Tower grounds. Moriarty continued to dance around the White Tower while outside, the last of the tourists were hustled out of the building. Pulling black leather mitts onto his hands, Moriarty walked over to the wall and picked up a fire extinguisher. Outside, armed police leapt out of a van and ran into the Tower. Inside, Moriarty danced dramatically towards the case, raising the fire extinguisher with the bottom end pointed towards the glass and, grinning happily, rammed it towards the chewing gum and diamond. The glass shattered around the impact point. The armed police charged through the metal detector, repeatedly setting the alarm off. Moriarty smashed the extinguisher into the glass a couple more times and eventually the entire pane disintegrated and fell to the floor.

Greg's car screamed into the grounds and he and Sally jumped out and raced into the White Tower. Inside, the armed police disabled the lock to the door and it swung open. They charged inside and were greeted by the sight of Jim Moriarty sitting on the throne inside the case, wearing an ermine trimmed robe, the crown on his head, the orb between his knees and holding the sceptre across his lap, with his earphones still in. He had his eyes closed in bliss as the music came to an end. He opened his eyes and smiled at the new arrivals.

"No rush," He told the police calmly, gloating to himself silently. And watched as they all ran to daddy.

**Lexi's POV**

I groaned beside Sherlock as his phone trilled another text alert at the same time as mine did. John lowered his newspaper and looked over at me but I had already gone back to writing out chemical formulas after moving back over to my own chair. Sherlock didn't even look up from the new side he was looking at under his microscope.

"I'll get it, shall I?" John asked us tetchily and he got up and walked over to pick up Sherlock and my phones. He checked the message on each of them while Sherlock continued to look into his microscope. I looked up at John and noticed that his face slowly was filling with shock. He turned and I frowned at him in confusion as he took our phones to the kitchen, holding Sherlock's phone out to him as I took mine, reading the message before dropping my phone onto the table as if it had shocked me. "Here," John told Sherlock as I looked up at the army doctor in shock.

"Not now, I'm busy," Sherlock told John, not looking up.

"Sherlock ...," John tried, looking across to me as he continued to hold Sherlock's phone out to him.

"Not now," Sherlock told John and I reached across and put and hand on his arm.

"Sherlock," I said and he finally looked up, looking over to me at the tone of my voice and because I used his full name for once.

"He's back," John told Sherlock, breathing heavily and Sherlock turned round to him and took his phone from the army doctor. His message read the same thing that mine did.

**Come and play.**

**Tower Hill.**

**Jim Moriarty x.**

Sherlock's eyes widened and he sunk back in his chair. He turned to me and we shared a look of shock and horror. We had been waiting for this to happen and now it had. Moriarty was back and he was ready to start the game all over again. I got a feeling that this round, one or both of us weren't going to make it out alive.

**Third Person POV**

Back at the Tower, Moriarty was smiling calmly as he was being put into the back of a police car. Behind him, Greg and Sally came out of the building and watched, then Greg looked down at Moriarty's phone which he was holding. Just before everything had all started at 10:59am Moriarty had sent out two text messages, one to Sherlock and one to Lexi. Lestrade sighed and took out his phone before he rang Sherlock, he needed to get them both down here now.

Later, Sherlock, Lexi, and John arrived at the Tower and Lestrade showed them into the security room. They were currently watching the recorded security footage taken from behind Moriarty as he stuck the gum onto the glass. From a distance it was not clear what he then pushed into the gum. Lexi looked at Sherlock and frowned before he nodded at her as the two detectives had a silent conversation.

"That glass is tougher than anything," Lestrade told the two detectives and Lexi shook her head at him.

"Not tougher than crystallised carbon. He used a diamond," Sherlock told Greg as Lexi crossed her arms over her chest. Sherlock put a hand on her shoulder and Lestrade noticed how closely in sync they were with each other. When one moved so did the other and in a way that complimented how the first moved. Greg adjusted the footage, which shifted to a recording taken from the other side of the glass. The footage also went into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place before it shattered. As Moriarty pulled the fire extinguisher back again and the glass became whole, the message which he scrawled onto it became clear. He had deliberately written the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case. With the smiley face inside the "O", the message read:

**GET**

**SHERLOCK **

**LEXI**

John turned and stared at Sherlock and Lexi but their eyes were fixed on the screen. They looked back at each other and John could tell that they were having a quick conversation between the two of them. Lexi uncrossed her arms and Sherlock slid and arm around her waist, pulling her tightly to him in a protective gesture.

"At first we thought it might be you. We were warned about your hacking but then we got called from a woman named Joanna who works apparently in Government security," Lestrade told the two detectives as he looked at Lexi who looked round at him, raising her eyebrow slightly.

"Mmm, I need to give her a call myself. I think it's time we initiated our protocols," Lexi told Lestrade who looked surprised by the fact that Lexi knew who she was. The Irish girl looked up at Sherlock who nodded at her before they both turned and walked out together. John gave one final look to Lestrade before he nodded at him and turned to follow his mates. John wondered what exactly Sherlock and Lexi had said quickly to each other through their silent conversation and what exactly the protocols were that she felt she should initiate. Whatever they were though, John knew that they both had to do with Moriarty. He'd been waiting for this to happen after Moriarty got away the first time and a sense of dread filled John. The first act was over and the last act in this play was just about to begin.

**Daily Mail**

**"Crime of the Century?" **

**Questions are being asked in parliament as to how the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison, and the Bank of England were all broken into at the same time by the same man – James Moriarty. There are unconfirmed reports that Scotland Yard's favourite sleuths Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Ms. Alexandria MacKenna have been called in to help the team piece together the most audacious crime ... Turn to page 5.**

**"Jewel Thief on trial at Bailey" **

**Crown Jewel thief is to be tried at the Old Bailey and Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna have been named as a witnesses for the prosecution. Master criminal Moriarty taunted Holmes and MacKenna with his graffitied GET SHERLOCK & LEXI at the scene of the crime. The crime is attracting huge attention internationally too. Irish born Moriarty – of no fixed abode, seems to be taunting the master detectives and some wonder if Moriarty might have a past connection with also Irish born Alexandria MacKenna. Boffin Holmes and Maverick MacKenna, accompanied by confirmed bachelor John Watson – refused to comment. Crowds gathered yesterday for what is being described as the trial of the century.**

**The Guardian**

**"Amateur detectives to be called as expert witnesses: Scotland Yard calls upon 'nation's favourite detectives' in Moriarty trial" **

**In a twist worthy of a Conan Doyle novella, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Ms. Alexandria MacKenna were yesterday revealed to be expert witnesses at the trial of 'Jim' Moriarty. Described by many commentators as the trial of the century, the case has all the ingredients of a block buster film. The royal family, Scotland Yard, the world of finance and greed, and the 'underclass' of prisoners out to reek revenge as they enjoy their own fifteen minutes of freedom. The case is riddled with irony and intrigue but perhaps reflects a deeper malaise that seems to be at the heart of a society. Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna, a man and woman of few words, declined to comment when asked their involvement in the case.**

The Fall had already begun….


	78. A More Permanent Destination

**Hello sweeties! Mum is the word. I am not saying anything on what may or may not be happening. You'll just have to read to find out. More on Saturday. **

**Marci...Mellie is currently cultivating pathogens faster than rabbits can reproduce thanks to the preschool assistant that sits behind her. Ugh...but I almost finished the first half of the Cabin Pressure one shot. **

**So while I cough and feel blah, enjoy the chapter. Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Six- A More Permanent Destination<strong>

**Third Person POV**

At 221B, John was standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He was wearing a suit and he finished tying his tie before putting his jacket on. Near the sofa, Sherlock was buttoning up his own jacket while watching John's reflection. Lexi walked out from the hallway, putting on her pearl earrings before she fixed her necklace. She was wearing her tweed dress with her black heels and her hair was pulled up in a neat bun. Sherlock helped her into her grey coat which covered her dress nicely before he led the way downstairs and went to the front door. He stopped and he and Lexi turned to the side to allow John to pass them as Sherlock held on to Lexi's hand tightly, already knowing what was waiting for them outside.

"Ready?" John asked them as he reached out for the door handle, taking a deep breath as he did so.

"Yes," Sherlock told him as Lexi nodded once, her mouth set into a hard line and her eyes darting around quickly.

Bracing himself, John opened the door. Police officers were trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately started photographing the trio and calling out questions as the police cleared the way and allowed the boys and Lexi through to the waiting police car. Sherlock keep his hand tightly linked with Lexi's and John followed right behind her so that he and Sherlock were on either side of her. She got slightly jostled by the journalists but Sherlock and John turned their bodies to take the brunt of their shoving. The three of them got into the back of the police car which pulled away and raced off with its sirens wailing.

"Well, that could have been worse," Lexi told them as she smoothed out her coat, sitting in between Sherlock and John. Lestrade looked back at her from the rear-view mirror as he drove them to the court house.

"Speak for yourself," John told her as he rubbed at his arm where one of the journalist had shoved him a bit roughly. "I thought you said that they would lose interest in you two," John said as he gave Lexi a pointed look and she shrugged at him.

"It's what he wanted John. This trial is all a great play," Lexi told him as Sherlock looked out of the window thoughtfully. He turned back to look at Lexi and the two detectives shared a look.

"And the curtain rises," Sherlock said and John sighed heavily as he realized that they were right. This was being called the crime of a century and the trial had more press than any other crime, having gone global overnight and right at the centre of it Moriarty had left a message for Sherlock and Lexi which meant that their names went global as well. The two of them being called in as expert witnesses was just the tip of the iceberg. The world now knew exactly who Sherlock and Lexi were and with all the press they had received recently they were now the world famous detectives. And John knew that sooner or later the press would turn and they would turn on Sherlock and Lexi, everything he feared would happen was now happening and it was all because Moriarty wanted it to.

At the Old Bailey, Jim was in a cell wearing a smart light grey suit, white shirt, and pale grey tie and silver tie pin with a matching grey handkerchief in the breast pocket. A prison guard was checking the handcuffs which shackled him to two nearby officers. Not long afterwards and surrounded by prison officers, he was being escorted along the corridors towards the court. As he walked along, a small smile began to creep onto his face. Roll the dice and watch them fall exactly as he planned. The curtain rises.

Back across London, the police car was just going around Trafalgar Square and the two detectives were listening to their army doctor who was trying to make sure that they would behave.

"Remember ...," John told them and he was instantly cut off.

"Yes," Sherlock told him instantly.

"We know John," Lexi told him just as quickly.

"Remember ...," John said again insistently and once again he was cut off.

"Yes," Sherlock told him even more quickly.

"We know John," Lexi said more slowly, giving him a pointed look. John looked away in frustration, then went for broke and spoke quickly before they could interrupt him again.

"Remember what they told you two, don't try to be clever ...," John said and Sherlock spoke over him with a "No" as Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes. "...and please, just keep it simple and brief," John finished as he gave Lexi a chastising look. He needed her on his side this time around but she was agreeing with Sherlock and being nearly just as bad as he was.

"God forbid the star witnesses at the trial should come across as intelligent," Sherlock told John and Lexi nodded in agreement with him.

"Or that they have any brain cells at all," Lexi added and John glared at her as she just stared back at her passively.

"'Intelligent', fine; let's give 'smart-arse' and 'sarcastic wit' a wide berth," John told the both of them and there was a slight pause before Sherlock and Lexi spoke again.

"I'll just be myself," Sherlock said at the same time Lexi said, "I'll just act like myself."

"Are you listening to me?!" John asked the two detectives in irritation. The two detectives blinked back at him blankly before they turned to each other and John sighed in exasperation as they had a silent conversation with each other. This was going to end badly, John already knew that.

At the Old Bailey Moriarty was marched up the stairs into the courtroom, two prison officers holding him by the shoulders. Outside, TV reporters were talking into various cameras as they recorded pieces for the news programmes.

"...here today standing outside ... of attempting to steal the Crown Jewels ..." One ITN reporter said.

"...This is the trial of the century ...James Moriarty, earlier today accused of attempt..." The Sky News reporter reported.

"...the trial of James Moriarty ... at the Old Bailey we have Reichenbach Heroes Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna ...," The BBC News correspondent said into the camera.

Moriarty and his prison escort reached the top of the stairs and he was turned sideways and walked into the dock. As a female prison officer came across to check his restraints, he turned his head and murmured into her ear.

"Would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket?" Moriarty asked her and the officer looked at one of her male colleagues, who nodded in agreement. Looking rather uncomfortable, she slid her fingers into Moriarty's trouser pocket and pulled out the contents while Moriarty breathed very close to her face and gazed into her eyes before poking his tongue out. She put what she had found in his pocket, a piece of chewing gum, onto his tongue and he drew his tongue back in and began to chew, smiling at her creepily. "Thanks," He told her getting satisfaction at the uncomfortable look she gave him.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock was in the toilets at the Old Bailey washing his hands having ducked away from Lexi and John for a second to use the loo before they would be no doubt detained for hours in the court room.

"Crown versus Moriarty – please proceed to Court Ten," The tannoy announcement said and as Sherlock turned of the taps he noticed a woman standing behind him who was wearing a deerstalker hat. Her light brown hair had a bit of a reddish tint to it and was tied into two braids which she no doubt thought made her look more attractive with her hat on. She was staring at him in awestruck amazement and her bag slipped out of her fingers and dropped to the floor. Oh dear God, he thought the worst had happened when Lexi had went to use the loo when they were in a restaurant together and came back after she had to knock out a journalist that tried to follow her for an inside scoop about the nature of their relationship. It would appear that their depravity knew no bounds.

"You're him," The woman said in shock and Sherlock saw that she was also wearing so wearing an "I (heart) Sherlock" badge. The female members of their "fan" clubs were still of the notion that he and Lexi were only friends as their small minds could not wrap around the concept that both of them were not interested in the cerebrally challenged population of London.

"Wrong toilet," Sherlock told her simply, not at all about to get started yet. He wanted to see if he could manage better than Lexi could as she had apparently coldcocked the journalist that followed her before the words had even finished coming out of his mouth. This woman was quiet obviously a journalist and not a fan.

"I'm a big fan," The woman continued on acting just as mentally challenged to be in his presence as before.

"Evidently," Sherlock told her sarcastically as he turned towards her.

"I read your cases; follow them all," The woman said as she stepped closer, gazing at him adoringly. "Sign my shirt, would you?" She asked him and she peeled back her coat to reveal that her blouse was opened quite low and she was showing a lot of cleavage. Sherlock mentally snorted. As if any woman could ever tempt him other than Lexi. Lexi was the only one that attracted him in any sexual way and why would he want another woman when he had the perfect woman waiting for him just outside? The simple fact that this woman thought she could tempt him told him that she was just as mentally handicapped as the rest of her auspicious race. As these thoughts went through Sherlock's mind the woman offered him a pen which she already had in her hand.

"There are two types of fans," Sherlock started, not even bothering to be nice any more though granted he had tried at first for Lexi's sake. Now however he would not be pleasant with any woman who thought she could ever manage to get between him and Lexi.

"Oh?" The woman asked flirtily as she raised her eyebrow a little. She needed to learn how to do that as well, her eyebrow raise was weak in comparison to how Lexi's could covey several different messages depending on the circumstance at hand.

""Catch me before I kill again" – Type A ...," Sherlock said, smirking slightly to himself as Lexi had come up with Type A to categorize Moriarty.

"Uh-huh. What's Type B?" The woman asked him and Sherlock bit back a slight growl.

""Your bedroom's just a taxi ride away."" Sherlock told her, he had to hide his displeasure from her. Sherlock had come up with this second type after one "fan" attempted to get Lexi to "come back to his place for a chat." The boy's intentions had been more than clear however. The woman grinned, her eyes still locked on his.

"Guess which one I am," The woman told him and Sherlock ran his eyes down her body, quickly deducing her at a rapid speed, though he already knew from one look that she was a journalist. What the hell though, It was always nice to categorize and compartmentalize data for later deductions.

**pressure marks**

**pocket**

**ink**

"Neither," Sherlock told her simply before he watched all the tell-tale signs of someone caught in a lie flash over her face.

"Really?" The woman asked him, blinking at him nervously.

"No. You're not a fan at all," Sherlock told her as he looked at the indentations just below her right wrist. "Those marks on your forearm, edge of a desk. You've been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on; facing a deadline," Sherlock said quickly, sharing his deductions with her.

"That all?" She asked him, looking away, knowing she had been caught out.

"And there's a smudge of ink on your wrist; and a bulge in your left jacket pocket," Sherlock continued and he and the woman looked down to her pocket from which was protruding the edge of a dictaphone, which had a red light shining on it showing that it was recording.

"Bit of a giveaway," The woman told him with a bit of a shrug.

"The smudge is deliberate, to see if I'm as good as they say I am. It's a good things you didn't try to speak with Lexi, she would have been offended that you doubted her or me," Sherlock told her and he lifted her hand and sniffed the ink on her wrist. "Hmm. Oil-based; used in newspaper print, but drawn on with an index finger; your finger," Sherlock continued and the woman hummed loudly in agreement. "Journalist. Unlikely you'd get your hands dirty at the press. You put that there to test me," Sherlock finished looking at her coldly.

"Wow, I'm liking you!" The woman told him and Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes at her. Now he understood how Lexi felt when all the cave men of the human race attempted to get her attention like Sebastian had.

"You mean I'd make a great feature: "Sherlock Holmes – the man beneath the hat"," Sherlock told her not at all perturbed. Many people had been asking them for an insider piece to learn more about them and the questions always seemed to roll around to what his and Lexi's relationship actually was. That anyone could question them when the nature of their relationship was more than apparent Sherlock couldn't begin to imagine.

"Kitty ...," The woman said and she took off her hat before finishing. "...Riley. Pleased to meet you," The woman, Kitty Riley apparently, said and she offered her hand for him to shake.

"No. I'm just saving you the trouble of asking. No, I won't give you an interview; no, I don't want the money," Sherlock told her, pushing past her as he headed for the door wanting to get as far away from the woman as was currently possible. She chased after him of course.

"You and Lexi MacKenna– just platonic? Can I put you down for a "no" there, as well?" Kitty asked him as she stopped him from opening the door and got in his way, stepping well into his personal space. He breathes loudly and angrily, distancing himself slightly from her. The only person he liked that close to him was Lexi. "There's all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you're gonna need someone on your side ...," Kitty told him, reaching into her pocket. She held up her business card and then tucked it into his breast pocket. "...someone to set the record straight."

"And you think you're the girl for that job, do you?" Sherlock asked her, smiling sarcastically. Lexi could write better than whatever codswallop this brainless fool could think up. Journalist only lived for the gossip, not the true story.

"I'm smart, and you can trust me, totally," Kitty told him and Sherlock wept for future generations if totally was all she could come up with in her limited vocabulary.

"The only person I trust "totally, is Lexi," Sherlock told Kitty coldly. "Smart, okay, investigative journalist. Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see," Sherlock told the woman and she stared at him blankly. "If you're that skilful, you don't need an interview. You can just read what you need," Sherlock continued as she looked awkward and couldn't continue to meet his eyes. "No? Okay, my turn," Sherlock said and he paced around her, looking her over. "I look at you and I see someone who's still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt but it's been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you've got. And your nails: you can't afford to do them that often. I see someone who's hungry. I don't see smart, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, but I'll give you a quote if you like – three little words," Sherlock told her rapid fire and he reached down and took the dictaphone from her pocket, holding it up to his mouth as she stepped closer hopefully. "You ... repel ... me," Sherlock told her being deliberately slow before he turned and left the room.

**Lexi's POV**

After Sherlock returned from the bathroom looking more than a little annoyed, but only to me we entered into the courtroom together. Sherlock and I sat to wait until we were called to take the stand and I sat with my eyes forward, not looking at Moriarty. He still scared me, but not as much as he had before. I had learnt the true extent of how strong I was with Irene. I had also recently come to a realization. Moriarty said that I would wish I didn't have a heart once he was done with me. Irene was working for Moriarty. He wanted to use her to break me, but he couldn't. I had won that game. Sherlock silently told me everything that went on in the washroom with the journalist he had apparently run into as we sat next to one another. His mouth barely moved as he whispered to me. We hardly listened to most of the trial, paying more attention to each other than Moriarty or the prosecution. Moriarty did glance over to us many times, but I ignored him as if he wasn't even worth the trouble of a glance. Sherlock had just been called to give his evidence and was standing in the witness box. Moriarty was in the dock opposite him, nonchalantly chewing on his gum while John was sitting in the public gallery upstairs. I nodded once at Sherlock as he looked over at me.

"A "consulting criminal," The prosecuting barrister said, repeating what Sherlock had just told him when asked what he would classify Moriarty as.

"Yes," Sherlock told him and I nodded slightly. So far so good for both Sherlock and the prosecution.

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?" The prosecuting barrister asked Sherlock who flicked his gaze over at me from where I was sitting over at the prosecution side of the court room.

"James Moriarty is for hire," Sherlock told the prosecuting barrister, expanding upon his answer as she requested.

"A tradesman?" She asked Sherlock who nodded once.

"Yes," Sherlock confirmed for her, keeping his answers brief as John had suggested we do.

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating," The prosecuting barrister said and therein her first mistake was made.

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler," Sherlock told her and I sighed as there was muffled laughter from some people in the court, and the prosecuting barrister tried to hide her smile.

"Would you describe him as ...," The prosecuting barrister continued before Sherlock interrupted her.

"Leading," Sherlock told her and he flicked his gaze over to me. I smiled at him ruefully and shook my head at him fondly.

"What?" The prosecuting barrister asked him in confusion.

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness," Sherlock told her and he looked towards the defending barrister. "He'll object and the judge will uphold," Sherlock continued and the Judge looked at him in exasperation as this wasn't the first time Sherlock had interrupted her during his evidence.

"Mr. Holmes," The judge warned him in irritation.

"Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?" Sherlock asked the prosecuting barrister and the judge cut back in as Sherlock sat back slightly.

"Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help," The judge told Sherlock in exasperation, folding his hands in front of him. I couldn't help bit smirk slightly as I reached up and played with the chain around my neck, fingering my engagement rings slightly. It was hidden under the top of my dress today as the front of the dress came up to my neck.

"How would you describe this man – his character?" The prosecuting barrister asked him instead, listening to what Sherlock had suggested that she ask him.

"First mistake," Sherlock told her and he raised his eyes and locked his gaze onto Moriarty as I too turned to look at the consulting criminal. "James Moriarty isn't a man at all – he's a spider; a spider at the centre of a web – a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances," Sherlock said and Moriarty almost imperceptibly nodded his head in approval of the description. The prosecuting barrister cleared her throat awkwardly realizing that that hadn't been a good question to ask him.

"And how long ...," The prosecuting barrister started before Sherlock cut her off again.

"No, no, don't-don't do that. That's really not a good question," Sherlock told her, closing his eyes in exasperation.

"Mr. Holmes," The judge said angrily and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me. I nodded at him slightly, giving him silent consent to say whatever he liked. This trial was one large game and we both knew that it wouldn't matter in the slightest what we said here in court.

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up," Sherlock told the court before he continued. "I felt we had a special something," Sherlock finished sarcastically and Moriarty raised his eyebrows in an "ooh!" expression.

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for just five minutes?" The judge asked the prosecuting barrister but Sherlock answered him before she could speak.

"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample," Sherlock told the judge and I bit my lip to hold back a laugh. Recently I was more amused with Sherlock's antics than I was reprimanding of them, but then my entire views on the matter had changed a bit.

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury," The judge told Sherlock as the jury all looked amongst themselves, not sure what to make of Sherlock's statement.

"Oh, really?" Sherlock asked judge as his eyes turned towards the jury box. I looked back at John who had raised his hand to his head in an all-too-recognisable "oh, shit, NO!" gesture. Sherlock turned the full force of his gaze onto the twelve people sitting in the jury box and I could tell that he had deduced all of them within a couple of seconds. I had already done so to pass the time. "One librarian; two teachers; two high-pressured jobs, probably the City," Sherlock started and he focused on the woman at the far left of the front row. She had a notebook resting on the ledge in front of her and was writing in shorthand. "The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand," Sherlock said before the judge tried to stop him.

"Mr Holmes!" The judge shouted indignantly but Sherlock continued with his current line of enquiry.

"Seven are married and two are having an affair – with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits," Sherlock said scanning rings on the jury members' fingers. He turned to the judge next. "Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" Sherlock asked the judge innocently.

"Mr Holmes. You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess," The judge told Sherlock angrily as Moriarty smirked slightly ay Sherlock. Sherlock took a breath but couldn't help but look up towards John and smiling a little at the acknowledgement of his 'intellectual prowess'. John stared at him sternly as I raised my eyebrow at Sherlock in amusement. "Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?" The judge asked Sherlock, shouting the last part at him. Sherlock paused while he gave the question some thought, then opened his mouth and drew in a breath.

Once Sherlock was led from the court room, being held in contempt of court I was asked to take the witness stand as Sherlock had before me. Once I gave my oath I stood there, looking over the top of Moriarty's head, keeping my eyes fixed on John who looked exasperated beyond all belief. The look he was giving me was a deadly warning to keep my mouth shut and to not pull a stunt as Sherlock just had. Unbeknownst to John however, nothing I said would change the outcome of this trial. Moriarty had a vast web. If he was convicted then he wouldn't be in prison long before he escaped, but Sherlock and I both knew he would never be convicted in the first place. This trial was all an act as far as the Government law system was concerned. We went through the motions but the motions would no more effect the outcome than a person could move an unmovable object.

"Do you agree with Mr. Holmes description of Mr. Moriarty?" The prosecuting barrister asked me wearily and I nodded once at her.

"Yes, as Sherlock said he is a consulting criminal, a man for hire as much as we are consulting detectives. I know of one such instance when someone went to him to figure out what she might do with a bit of top secret information that fell into her hands and another instance when he helped someone try and pass off a fake painting as a lost piece of original art. Moriarty has both the methods and means to help criminals conduct their business," I told the prosecuting barrister as Moriarty eyed me with a creepy smile. I looked over at him, my mouth drawn into a hard line, and my face blank.

"And how would you describe this man?" The prosecuting barrister asked me next and I nodded at her smiling slightly.

"I can tell you are learning quickly, very good," I told her and the judge looked round at me in exasperation.

"Ms. MacKenna," The judge warned me and I closed my eyes for a brief moment before sighing and opening them.

"Moriarty is, as Sherlock said, a spider in the middle of a giant web. He has many people who work for him and from the centre of his vast criminal network he knows each and every way to get them to do exactly as he wishes. I would use many words to describe Moriarty, psychopath being one of them," I said and the prosecuting barrister cleared her throat awkwardly as Moriarty winked at me. I rolled my eyes at him, acting unbothered by him though inside my skin was crawling in disgust.

"And how long…?' The prosecuting barrister began before I cut her off.

"You were so close to doing better. That's not a very good question to ask me either," I told her and the judge cut in again.

"Ms. MacKenna I will find you in contempt of this court if you do not keep your answers brief and answer only the questions asked of you," The judge warned me and I looked back at him nodding for a moment before I flicked my gaze to John who was giving me a "don't you even dare" look.

"We've met three times before, once in Dublin before he started his consulting criminal business and when I was just starting my own consulting detective business and again last year. I helped the local police in Dublin track him down and he was arrested on counts of theft. I was in his presence no more than two minutes then. After that we spent maybe fifteen minutes in total together, of course ten of those minutes were spent with him breaking my ribs so we really didn't have enough time for a pleasant chat. Oh and I was unconscious before that because he drugged and kidnapped me. Our relationship is a bit strained as you can tell," I said and the court laughed a bit at that as the judge looked at me in exasperation. "He strapped a bomb to me and then Sherlock pulled a gun on him, not exactly the best way to start a friendship but I digress," I finished and the judge looked over to the prosecuting barrister angrily.

"Ms. Sorrel are you to tell me that you're two key witness barely know this man? How can she been considered an expert having known the man for less than fifteen minutes?!" The judge asked the prosecuting barrister in exasperation and I answered him before she could.

"Twenty three minutes in total actually. I did say I had met him three times before. The second time we met was when he was posing as "Jim from IT" at St. Bart's hospital during the same case that led to him strapping a bomb to my chest. As Sherlock said, two minutes would have made me and expert, the rest was just overkill," I told the judge which was why I found myself being marched by a prison officer into one of the cells under the courts where Sherlock was already pacing around in the cell a few minutes later. "Did you miss me?" I asked Sherlock as the prison officer shoved me inside of the cell and slammed the door shut behind me before he left us.

"You have no idea," Sherlock told me, stopping his pacing so that he could walk over and hug me tightly to him, kissing the top of my head. "I assume that you said something that the judge decided to hold you in contempt for as well. Something about you showing off your intellectual prowess," Sherlock asked me, smirking smugly as I pulled back from him and went to sit on the little cot attached to the wall.

"Hmm, I might have told him that the other seventeen minutes out of the twenty three I've known Moriarty for were overkill in making me an expert in this case. He seemed to not like that response," I told Sherlock and he chuckled at me before he went back to pacing around the cell a bit. A recess had apparently been called in the trial as a little later two more officers walked Moriarty to the adjoining cell to ours and locked him inside. As if sensing each other, Sherlock turned and looked at the wall which separated the three of us as Moriarty no doubt did the same on the other side of the wall. I stayed on the cot, as far away from the only wall that divided us as possible. We sat for a while more and once the trial was finished for the day and Moriarty was led away to return to his cell for the night, Sherlock and I were released. We signed for our personal property while a very angry John was standing beside Sherlock, his back against the desk and his arms folded.

"What did I say? I said, "Don't get clever."" John told us in exasperation as he stared ahead of us. It was physically impossible for us not to be clever, besides this trial was all for show anyway.

"We can't just turn it on and off like a tap," Sherlock told John as we took our bags of items from the custody officer, Sherlock turns to John as we began to walk away.

"And besides, I'm Ms. Clever. We're intelligent John and others just can't handle that, then again you couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions," I told John and he looked at me in utter confusion while Sherlock smirked.

"Well?" Sherlock asked John, getting us back to the subject at hand as we both fished our mobiles out of our bags. Sherlock put his in his coat pocket and I gave mine over to Sherlock to hang onto for me. It had been bad enough getting it out of where I had been keeping it once.

"Well what?" John asked Sherlock still confused as we made our way out of the building.

"You were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, start to finish," Sherlock told John who caught on to what we were talking about.

"Like you said it would be," John told us and I nodded having already known this. "He sat on his backside, never even stirred," John finished, referring to Jim's defending barrister.

"Moriarty's not mounting any defence," Sherlock told John as we walked out of the door and headed over to the lifts.

"And he does have to because he already knows how this will turn out," I said quietly and both boys looked at me. John frowned, not understanding what I meant by that but Sherlock nodded in agreement. It was why we never worried about being called in as expert witness from the start of things. We made it back upstairs and caught up with Lestrade who headed out to the police car. There was still a few journalist outside, but for the most part they had already left for the day. The boys got me to the car and Sherlock quickly slid in first before pulling me in after him. Throughout all the media coverage the boys had been trying to protect me from the journalist who seemed to think pushing and shoving at us was going to make us want to stop and talk to them.

"Why do you say that he already knows how this will turn out?" John asked me as Lestrade pulled out into the street. I brought my hands up and rubbed my temples, feeling a bit of a headache coming on. Sherlock soothed me by taking my hand in his and pulling me closer into his side so that I could rest my head on his shoulder.

"Moriarty has a vast criminal network John. If convicted he probably wouldn't spend much more than a year in prison and he can wait for a very long time if he has to. That's also if he is convicted," I said and John looked back at me incredulously.

"He's not mounting a defence because he knows he is going to be found guilty. Lexi there's evidence of him breaking in to steal the crown jewels," John told me and I sat up and looked back at him, adopting my thinking pose.

"Actually, John, he did break the case, but when they found him he wasn't going anywhere with them. He was just sitting there until they came to get him. He knew that they were coming from when the first alarm went off. As for the prison and the bank there is nothing to can say without a doubt that he was responsible for those crimes. And what, he opened a bank vault and shut down security at the prison. Prisoners got fifteen minutes of freedom at most and nothing was stolen from the bank. That's not really a crime, he was just showing off," I told John who frowned in confusion. I had done a lot of thinking about the three crimes and Sherlock agreed with me.

For whatever reason Moriarty had, these crimes were only to show off. It was like with the bomb he sent off just to show us what he could do. He wanted us to know that he had gotten better since the first time we faced each other. The thing was though, so had we. Joanna already initiated the Ghost protocol we set up and as soon as we needed to use it, it could be initiated with a key word sentence that we just had to text her or Mycroft. I was not taking chances the second time around as I had the first. This was the calm before the storm. The real game hadn't even begun yet. The first act in this play was finished and the second act was just beginning. We arrived back at Baker Street and after I thanked Lestrade we made it back up to the flat. The journalist had thankfully cleared off by now so we were able to just walk in through the front door without having to make a dash for it. We quickly mounted the stairs and as we walked through the door to the living room John finally commented on what I had told him.

"Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why," John said as he sat down in his army chair. Sherlock began to pace the length of the living room with his hands folded in front of his mouth in his prayer position. We met each other's gaze as I walked by him and I put my hand on his arm before I went to perch on the arm of his chair, sitting between my boys. "All we know is ...," John said, trailing off so that one of us could finish for him.

"...he ended up in custody," Sherlock said as he continued to pace and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

"As to the how, Joanna and I have already been looking into that. So far we can't find anything that suggests that Moriarty hacked the security and that could either mean that he didn't or he found out a way for it to be completely untraceable even for us which…would be extremely adventurous of him. There's not even a whisper on the system so if he did hack it his program is so powerful that Joanna and I can't find anything at all which is bad," I told the boys and Sherlock stopped his pacing as we both turned to look at John. John took in a breath and looked at us in exasperation.

"Don't do that," John told us and Sherlock and I frowned in confusion.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked John, lowering his hands from his mouth slightly.

"The look," John told us and I raised an eyebrow at him and he pointed to it.

"Look?" I asked John incredulously, smirking a bit in amusement.

"You're both doing the look again," John told us and I rolled my eyes at him playfully.

"Well, we can't see it, can we?" Sherlock told John, his eyebrows furrowing more and John pointed to the mirror on the wall. Sherlock turned his head and looked at his reflection. "It's my face," Sherlock told John, not seeing any difference to it. I couldn't tell what John meant either, Sherlock looked at same as he always did.

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're both doing a "we all know what's really going on here" face," John told us and I raised my eyebrow higher and John pointed accusingly at me again. Oh so apparently raising my eyebrow meant my face was doing a thing.

"Well, we do," Sherlock told John as I stood up and patted Sherlock on the arm. He looked back at me and I silently told him that John hadn't caught on as quickly as we had. Of course, we knew some things that he didn't such as that this had been carefully planned for a while.

"No. I don't, which is why I find The Face so annoying," John told us, confirming what I had just told Sherlock. Sherlock sighed heavily before he looked at John. I didn't exactly know that we did a face, but I could see where it was possible that we did. Sherlock and I made a lot of faces for a lot of different reasons.

"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there," Sherlock explained to John before he started to pace again. "Somehow this is part of his scheme."

"This was all part of an elaborate plan which would have taken time to execute. He's been planning this for some time," I told the boys and John frowned as Sherlock and I shared a knowing look. I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully for a second before I shook it and walked between the boys and went to the kitchen to make us some tea. This was exactly what Moriarty wanted and there was nothing we could do to stop that fact.

**Third Person POV**

The next day at the Old Bailey, the trial continued and as the prosecution had no more witness, the court now looked to the defending barrister,

"Mr. Crayhill, can we have your first witness?" The judge asked the defending barrister who rose to his feet.

"Your Honour, we're not calling any witnesses," The defending barrister told the judge and there were cries of surprise around the court, and John who was sitting in the public gallery frowned in confusion.

"I don't follow. You've entered a plea of Not Guilty," The judge said and John thought back to what Lexi had told him. Moriarty already knew what the outcome of the trial would be. He wasn't offering up any evidence. It was like he was expecting to win, but he couldn't, could he?

"Nevertheless, my client is offering no evidence. The defence rests," The defending barrister told the judge and he sat down again. Moriarty pursed his lips ruefully at the judge, then turned, looked up towards the public gallery and shrugged at John who looked right back at him, his gaze cold as he stared at Moriarty for a long moment before the man turned round again. He was getting exactly what he wanted, but why would he would to be caught up in a trial in the first place? What could he gain from all of this?

Back at the flat, Sherlock was sitting sideways on the sofa with his back against the arm rest near the window. He was wearing his blue dressing gown over his clothes and Lexi was sitting on top of his lap as he held onto her closely, the two of them having been banned from the court room. Lexi had his red dressing gown on over the top of her blouse and pair of skinny jeans. Sherlock softly recited the only words that the judge could possibly say in his summing-up speech while burying his face into the crook of Lexi's neck as she played with the fingers on his hand, staring ahead of them, he mouth drawn into a hard line. They knew from the start what would happen which was why noting they said would eve matter. Lexi had already made several predictions and Sherlock agreed with her on all accounts.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. James Moriarty stands accused of several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which – if he's found guilty – will elicit a very long custodial sentence; and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty," Sherlock recited and he closed his eyes before he murmured the word into Lexi's ear. "Guilty," Sherlock told her in a whisper as she squeezed his hand tightly. They had to find him guilty.

Back at the Old Bailey, the court adjourned at 10:42. It was the quickest trails that John had ever seen before. He had gone out to the hall and used the loo, expecting the jury to take a while before they had reached a verdict. At 10:50 John was sitting on a bench just outside the courtroom when the Clerk of the Court hurried out of a side room.

"They're coming back," The Clerk told John who looked down at his watch in surprise.

"That's six minutes," John said, taking into account how long it took the jury to leave the court and go to their allocated room.

"Surprised it took them that long, to be honest. There's a queue for the loo," The clerk told him before he hurried into the court room. John stood up and took a moment to brace himself before he followed the Clerk back into the court room. A few minutes later the Clerk rose to his feet in the courtroom and turned to face the jury. "Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?" The Clerk asked the jury. One of the jury members lowered his head and shook it in tiny despairing motions as the foreman got to her feet and stared at the Clerk unhappily.

**Lexi's POV**

At 221B, Sherlock's phone began to ring. His eyes snapped open as did mine as we had been waiting quietly together, knowing that John would call us as soon as the verdict was given. I already knew what he was going to tell us, the one outcome that I had known for sure from the start.

"Not Guilty. They found him Not Guilty. No defence, and Moriarty's walked free," John told the two of us incredulously and Sherlock lowered the phone and looked up at me. I nodded at him slightly in confirmation, we had been right. "Sherlock, Lexi. Are you listening? He's out. You-you know he'll be coming after you two. Sher...," John said before Sherlock switched the phone off and I got up off of the sofa before Sherlock stood up next to me.

"Go, please," Sherlock told me and I shook my head at him quickly before I grabbed his hands and forced him to look down at me. I knew he was going to try this, to get me to leave before Moriarty got here, but I was not leaving him and I certainly was not going to let him be with Moriarty alone.

"No, together or not at all. I am not letting you be with him alone," I told Sherlock, cutting him off as he tried to protest again. "Never again, Sherlock. Besides Moriarty wants to see the both of us, you know he won't accept any meeting where I am not present. We do this together, always, no matter what happens," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me and bent down to kiss my forehead.

"Always," Sherlock promised me and I looked up at him and nodded once. Sherlock walked to the kitchen with me and I switched the kettle on and slammed down a small tray beside it. I wasn't comfortable with this, but we were going to play house. We knew that Moriarty would be unable to resist coming by the flat the minute he was set free. Therefore we set out own plans into place which included me hiding a few things about the flat that I knew he would never notice. Sherlock put the jug of milk, a sugar bowl, a teapot, and three cups and saucers with teaspoons into the tray before he kissed the side of my head. I looked up at him and sighed before nodding once, silently telling him that I was alright.

The kettle came to a boil and switched off and Sherlock returned to the kitchen, now wearing a jacket in place of the dressing gown, as I made the tea. Sherlock took the tray to the table beside John's chair, then walked over to his own chair and picked up his violin and bow. I followed him and picked up my viola and rested it against my shoulder before I picked up my own bow. I looked once at Sherlock and nodded before we began to play Bach's Sonata No. 1 in G minor together. We had agreed that it was best to act nonchalant, especially for me. I had assured Sherlock that I was more than alright to be in the same room with Moriarty. While I was still afraid of him, I was more afraid of what he could do now rather than of the man himself. I was a lot stronger now than I had been the first time we met. We heard the downstairs door open and close as Moriarty entered the flat. Thankfully for us Mrs. Hudson was out visiting her sister today as we had suggested. Partway up the stairs, one of the stairs creaked noisily and Sherlock and I paused in our playing as well, the sounds of our duel melody cutting off at exactly the same time. A couple of seconds later Sherlock and I resumed from a few notes before where we stopped and Moriarty started to climb the stairs again. Sherlock, stood with his back to the living room door but he was facing the mirror so that he could see behind him. I stood next to him facing away from the door as well. I could still move rather quickly if I needed to and the mirror covered the entire door way to the living room so Moriarty couldn't even surprise us if he wanted to. We kept playing until Moriarty pushed open the door, then we stopped. Sherlock didn't turn around yet and I ignored him as I walked forward and turned my back to him as I put my viola away in its case. I did however keep my eyes trained on his reflection in the glass I had placed on the dining table earlier for this exact purpose.

"Most people knock," Sherlock said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the flat and he shrugged. "But then you're not most people, I suppose," Sherlock continued and he gestured over his shoulder with his bow towards the table. "Kettle's just boiled. Lexi made the tea," Sherlock told him as Moriarty walked further into the room and bent to pick up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table. I stood up slowly before I turned around to face Moriarty, my expression passive as I looked back at him, my eyes watching him like a hawk. One wrong move and all the traps I set into place in the flat could be used in an instant.

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled," Moriarty told us as he tossed the apple into the air and caught it in an Arthur Shappey- like attempt to be really happy for a brief moment. He looked around the living room as if he was search for a seat. "May I?" Moriarty asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"By all means," I told him, my tone light and calm as if we were having a pleasant discussion amongst friends rather than there being a murdering psychopath in our flat.

"Please," Sherlock told him as he turned round to face him. He gestured with the end of his bow towards John's chair and Moriarty immediately walked over to Sherlock's chair and sat in that one instead. Sherlock looked slightly unnerved but I maintained my composure even if this did place me within three feet of the man. Moriarty took out a small penknife and started to cut into the apple while Sherlock put down his violin and began to pour the tea into the cups. I crossed the living room to John's chair and perched on the arm of it, folding my hands onto the top of my knee.

"You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end ...," Moriarty started before Sherlock cut him off.

"... and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it," Sherlock said, finishing off the rest of the story which we had heard about a dozen times already.

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody," Moriarty told us, sitting forward in Sherlock's chair and I snorted at that and rolled me eyes. He looked up at me smirking slightly and I raised my eyebrow back at him slightly.

"Neither can you. That's why you've come," Sherlock said and I looked away from Moriarty and shook my head slightly before breathing in deeply and looking back at him.

"I have to admit it was rather predicable, even for you," I told Moriarty who shrugged at me as if he wasn't at all concerned with this fact. I nodded at him slightly, keeping my eyes trained on his pen knife. I had my own knife slipped into the top of my boot. One move… I wasn't playing around anymore.

"But be honest, you two are just a tiny bit pleased," Moriarty told us and I lifted my eyebrow at him as I tilted my head to the side to regard him.

"What, with the verdict?" Sherlock asked him as he picked up one of the teacups, added a splash of milk, and turned and offered the cup to Moriarty, who sat up straighter and took it.

"With me ...," Moriarty told us softly. "...back on the streets," He continued as he gazed up into Sherlock's eyes, smiling. "Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain," Moriarty finished and he grinned as Sherlock turned away and added milk to our tea.

"Yes, but this isn't a fairytale and we aren't children playing some game," I told Moriarty, wanting to assess his level of sanity. I had my own theories behind why he acted like he did. Either he was mentally insane as his behaviour suggested and his mental capacities were like those of a child who didn't understand consequences or he was very much in his sane mind and did care and had no remorse for his actions. I was starting to find that the latter proved to be truer. He was just as sane as Sherlock and I was.

"Aren't we?" Moriarty asked me as he looked between Sherlock and me as he asked the question. "You two need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you two and I – except you're boring," Moriarty told us, shaking his head in disappointment. "You're on the side of the angels," Moriarty finished before he sipped his tea as Sherlock picked up my cup of tea and stirred it before handing it over to me and then repeating the process with his own mug.

"Yes, but one may suffer a world of demons for the sake of an angel," I told Moriarty and he lifted an eyebrow at me as I sipped my tea calmly, meeting his gaze. Sherlock turned his head and flicked his gaze over at me once but I ignored him as I set my tea cup back down in its saucer.

"Got to the jury, of course," Sherlock said, changing the subject and redirecting it from being about us. I shouldn't have said it, but I couldn't not say it as well because I needed Moriarty to know that Sherlock and I were a team and together we were a lot stronger than when we were apart. Sherlock and I did however agree that we would try and redirect the conversation to be about Moriarty rather than about us when we could.

"I got into the Tower of London; you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?" Moriarty asked us as he set his tea cup back onto its saucer. I hummed in agreement with that statement and Moriarty looked over at me.

"Very good that by the way, have to hand it to you. I couldn't even find a trace about how you got into all three," I told Moriarty and he smirked back at me, nodding his head slightly in thanks.

"Cable network," Sherlock said in exasperation, unbuttoning his jacket before he sat down in the chair beside me. I relaxed slightly once he was sitting next to me but my eyes remained fixed on Moriarty, not letting him out of my line of sight for even a second.

"Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen...and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm," Moriarty told us as he looked between Sherlock and I knowingly. "Easy-peasy,' Moriarty told us softly as he raised his cup to his mouth.

"So how're you going to do it ...," Sherlock said as he pointedly blew gently on his tea. "...burn us?" Sherlock finished and I nodded at that as I hummed in agreement.

"Yes, I have to say I'm interested to hear what you have to say about that too. You did already try once with me, but that didn't exactly work out the way you planned?" I told Moriarty and his eyes narrowed slightly at me. He had failed to burn me with Irene and he had failed to spilt Sherlock and I up which was what his intention was. He knew that together like we were now we were a lot harder to get to than if we had been alone, but that was of no matter to him, he would just find another way.

"Oh, that's the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Moriarty asked us softly and Sherlock took a sip of his tea and looked across his cup at Moriarty as I tilted my head to the side. "What's the final problem?" Moriarty asked us as he smiled at us from across the top of his own cup. "I did tell you two …," Moriarty told us in a sing song sort of way, but his voice remained soft. "... but did you listen?" Moriarty asked is and he took another sip of tea before putting the cup down into the saucer. Putting his hand onto his knee, he started idly drumming his fingers and Sherlock and I both lowered our eyes to watch the movement. "How hard do you find it, having to say "I don't know"?" Moriarty asked us as he continued to drum his fingers. Sherlock put his cup into its saucer and shrugged

"I dunno," Sherlock told him nonchalantly and I looked at Moriarty over the top of my mug as I sipped at my tea, raising my eyebrow at him slightly.

"Oh, that's clever; that's very clever; awfully clever," Moriarty chuckled in an upper class tone. Sherlock smiled humourlessly while putting his cup back onto the tray and I shrugged once as I place my tea cup back onto the tray next to Sherlock's. "Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?" Moriarty asked us as I put my hands back onto my crossed knee and Sherlock adopted his prayer pose, keeping my face neutral and not giving anything away.

"Told them what?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I blinked back at him, reading him as well as thinking. The final problem? And he had already told us what it was. Or had he figured out what we had been trying to keep from him?

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything," Moriarty clarified and I shook my head ever so slightly at him.

"No," Sherlock told him, voicing this sentiment. We thought it best not to tell John or Lestrade exactly what Moriarty's motives were behind what he had done, that he had only done so to show off for Sherlock and I because he was about to start another deadly game with us.

"But you understand," Moriarty told us, not voicing it as a question but more of a general statement.

"Obviously," Sherlock and I said in unison and Moriarty smirked slightly at that.

"Off you go, then," Moriarty told us and he had carved a piece off his apple and put it into his mouth with the flat of his penknife.

"You want us to tell you what you already know?" Sherlock asked Moriarty, raising his eyebrow, slightly sceptical.

"No; I want you two to prove that you know it," Moriarty told us, pointing at us as he chewed on his apple.

"You didn't take anything because you don't need to. The prison was a bit of over kill by the way," I told Moriarty and he shrugged at me with a smirk on his face.

"Good," He told me softly nodding once.

"You'll never need to take anything ever again," Sherlock continued and Moriarty nodded again, still smiling at us.

"Very good. Because ...?" Moriarty asked us and I flicked my gaze over to Sherlock, sharing a look with him for a slight moment.

"Because nothing ... nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London, or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three," Sherlock answered Moriarty while I looked back at the consulting criminal thoughtfully. His program was quite good, especially if I couldn't find it or Joanna or even Penelope who I had check our work. There was nothing, not even a whisper. It was like he had walked in and then walked out through a back door in the system and never even left a trace that he had done so. A program like that, he could have anything he wanted.

"I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now – they're all mine. No such thing as secrecy – I own secrecy. Nuclear codes – I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king; and honey, you should see me in a crown," Moriarty told us, taking on a weird accent as he closed his eyes and turned his head from side to side as he said his last few words. He opened his eyes and smiled in delight at Sherlock and me.

"And that was what the trial was all about. The three of us knew what the outcome would be before it even started. The trial itself never mattered, but the press coverage did," I told Moriarty and he made an oooh sound as I deduced.

"She's clever, isn't she?" Moriarty asked Sherlock, pointing at me and I continued on as if he hadn't interrupted me.

"You were advertising all the way through the trial, showing the world what you can do. That was what you wanted from the very beginning of this. Walking free in the end was just the icing on the cake," I finished as Sherlock dropped his prayer pose and put one of his hands on the arm of the chair and the other on top of my knee and Moriarty nodded at me, closing his eyes slightly as he smiled before he opened them. He didn't miss the fact that Sherlock's hand was resting on my leg almost possessively.

"And you two were helping. Big client list, rogue governments, intelligence communities ... terrorist cells. They all want me," Moriarty told us as he lifted another piece of apple to his mouth with the penknife. "Suddenly, I'm Mr. Sex," Moriarty finished, smirking at me and I snorted and rolled my eyes at him. He wasn't that wanted. "Of course there is talk of a woman named Lady Liberty keeping them all in line," Moriarty said, pulling a face and both Sherlock and I kept our faces blank at his mention of Joanna. "Might have to look into finding out who she is next…."

"If you could break any bank, what do you care about the highest bidder?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I tilted my head to the side and raised my eyebrow at him thoughtfully. He caught my gaze and smirked at me.

"See, she's already figured it out even if she doesn't know it yet," Moriarty told Sherlock as I stared back at the consulting criminal passively. "I don't. I just like to watch them all competing. "Daddy loves me the best!" Aren't ordinary people adorable? Well, you two know, you've got John. I should get myself a live-in one," Moriarty asked us as he grimaced thoughtfully and looked away from us.

"Why are you doing all of this?" Sherlock asked Moriarty even if we already knew the answer to that question.

"Must be so funny," Moriarty said, looking around the flat, still thinking about having a live-in ordinary person.

"You don't want money or power – not really," Sherlock continued as Moriarty dug the pint of his penknife into the apple. "What is it all for?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I adopted my thinking pose and closed my eyes for a brief moment before opening them.

"I want to solve the problem – our problem; the final problem," Moriarty told us, sitting forward and speaking softly. He lowered his head before he continued talking. "It's gonna start very soon, Sherlock, Lexi, the fall," He told us before he raised his head and whistled a slowly descending note as he gradually looked down towards the floor. "But don't be scared. Falling's just like flying, except there's a more permanent destination," Moriarty told us and as his gaze reached the floor, he made the sound of something thudding to the ground. Raising his head slowly, he glowered across at Sherlock and I. Sherlock bared his teeth slightly and then stood and buttoned his jacket.

"Never liked riddles," Sherlock told Moriarty as he and I stood up at the same time. Moriarty straightened his jacket and locked his gaze onto Sherlock's eyes before he slid his gaze over to me in and almost predatory manner.

"Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock, Lexi. I ... owe ... you," Moriarty told us and he continued to stare at Sherlock and me for a long moment, sealing his promise, then he slowly turned and walked away towards the door. "Chomaoin mé tú," [I owe you] Moriarty called back in Gaelic and I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth. Sherlock and I didn't move as Moriarty left the room, but after a while Sherlock moved towards the apple which Jim Moriarty had left on the arm of his chair with the penknife still stuck in it. He picked it up by the knife handle and looked at it as I stepped closer to him so that I was looking at it as well from beside him. Moriarty had dug a large circular piece out of the apple, and on the left of the circle he had carved an "I" shape while on the right of the circle was a "U" shape, forming the letters "I O U". Sherlock's mouth twitched into the beginning of a smile while I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow. And so it had begun.

**Daily Express**

**"MORIARTY WALKS FREE: Shock verdict at Old Bailey trial". **

**The Judge could only look on dumbfounded as the Jury found 'Jimbo' Moriarty 'Not Guilty'. Gasps were heard around the courtroom as the Jury declared their verdict.**

**The Guardian **

**"Shock verdict at trial" **

**In an unbelievable turn of events Moriarty walked free today after putting up no defence at all for what has been described as the Trial of the Century. Star witnesses Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna were not present for the verdict as in another twist to the case they were thrown out of court by the Judge. Questions have been asked in Parliament and the Prime Minister was quoted as saying "This is a disgrace, a sign if ever we needed one that broken Britain is still broken..." **

**Daily Star **

**"How was he ever acquitted?" **

**Sometime later The Guardian declared "Moriarty vanishes" while on one of its inside pages was a cartoon caricature of Sherlock and Lexi holding a crystal ball together with the caption underneath reading, "What Next for the Reichenbach Heroes?" And that was entirely the question Sherlock and Lexi were asking themselves, what next? **


	79. Grimm Fairytales

**Hello sweeties. Here is the next chapter for you all. Before we begin this on I want to let you know there might be a delay in the Goldfish postings. I have a ad cold and passed out yesterday due to dehydration so...yeah, I'm resting and trying to get better before Monday when I have classes again. So in this chapter, Joanna returns to TRS. Now her plot line is more advanced in this one with Croft because I am slightly backtracked in Goldfish right now, working on it, but remember it is all perception with how they act with each other. Their relationship is going to speed up soon in their story. In fact I'm working on it now. So enjoy the chapter and Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Seventy- Grimm Fairytales<strong>

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

**John's POV**

Life at Baker Street had gone back to normal in the last two months or as normal as things got. Moriarty disappeared and life seemed to move on. John was still careful, but Sherlock and Lexi said they hadn't heard from or seen Moriarty since he paid them a visit at the flat. John had asked them about what had happened but they wouldn't tell him anything other than the fact that Moriarty had come to gloat to them. That sounded like something he would do so John let it go. Sherlock and Lexi were quieter than normal, taking fewer cases over the last month and staying out of the press. Lexi had been right. The press did grow tired of them and move on after the trial. They still got the occasional picture in the newspaper but for the most part things went back to normal. The only not normal thing going on would be that Sherlock and Lexi were taking less cases and they never went anywhere without the other anymore. John was pretty sure that Lexi had a knife in her boot as well, but he wasn't sure and was afraid to ask. John did pay more attention when he was out on his own now, just in case, but Lexi always was armed with something and she had good reason to be after what happened the first time. John took a quick look around as he walked up to a NatWest cashpoint machine and inserted his card. Typing in his PIN, he then selected a transaction. After a few seconds he was greeted with the onscreen message:

**There is a problem with your card.**

**Please wait.**

John grimaced and a second later a new message appeared:

**Thank you for your patience…**

A moment later the message added:

**John**

John frowned and behind him a black car pulled up to the curb and stopped. John turned and looked at it, then turned back to the ATM which now had another message under his name.

**The car is from Mycroft in case you are wondering. I checked.-Joanna**

John sighed in exasperation before he meekly got into the car and allowed himself to be driven to an elegant white painted building which had a brass plaque outside declaring the venue to be THE DIOGENES CLUB. He went inside and entered a large room which, back when the building used to be a house, was probably a drawing room. A large marble fireplace surrounded an unlit fire and the walls had heavy wooden panelling and ornate white plaster coving. The room contained five small round tables, each with a single armchair beside it, and four of them were currently occupied by smartly dressed middle aged or elderly gentlemen reading newspapers and taking no notice of each other or of the new arrival. John looked around and then walked over to one of the older men sitting at the far end of the room.

"Er, excuse me. Um, I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes," John said and the old man's face took on an appalled expression but he did not look up. "Would you happen to know if he's around at all?" John asked the man and some of the other inhabitants of the room behind John looked round at him but didn't speak. "Can you not hear me?" John asked and the old man looked up at him, huffing indignantly and John held out a placatory hand to him. "Yes, all right," John told him and he turned around to the others in the room. "Anyone?" John asked and the others turned their faces away from him. "Anyone at all know where Mycroft Holmes is? I've been asked to meet him here," John said getting really frustrated now and the old man lifted his walking stick and pushed the end of it repeatedly onto a button on the nearby wall and a distant bell rang. John looked around in confusion while the gentlemen either ignored him or looked at him in annoyance. "No takers? Right." John said as he raised his voice slightly. "Am I invisible? Can you actually see me?" John asked them as just then two men wearing dress coats walked into the room. John turned to them. "Ah, thanks, gents," He said as behind him, the elderly gentleman flapped his hand frantically at the new arrivals as if to say, 'Get him out of here!' The dress coated men, wearing white gloves and soft white overshoes to muffle their footsteps, walked briskly over to John. "I've been asked to meet Mycroft Holm...," John said and he broke off as the men walked either side of him and firmly seized his arms. "What the ...? Hey!" John asked them in alarm as they almost lifted him off his feet and one of them put his other hand over John's mouth to silence him. His muffled protests continued while they rapidly bundled him out of the room.

Shortly afterwards John had been taken to a smaller room and the door had been closed firmly behind him. Mycroft was in the room with him and poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter as a door opened from the side hall and a smartly dressed Joanna walked inside. She was wearing brown pantsuit trousers and a matching blazer over a white button down blouse and her hair was tied in a bun. She smiled at John and waved at him as Mycroft started to answer John's question about why he had been dragged to this room by two people and why no one was talking. Mycroft flicked a look over at Joanna but made no other attempt to acknowledge her presence.

"Tradition, John. Our traditions define us," Mycroft told John as he held up his glass. Joanna rolled her eyes and made the jabbering gesture with her hand and John bit back a laugh.

"So total silence is traditional, is it? You can't even say, "Pass the sugar,"" John asked Mycroft in exasperation as Joanna crossed her arms over her chest and perched herself on the edge of Mycroft's desk, obviously having the same issue with furniture as Lexi did.

"Three-quarters of the diplomatic service and half the government front bench all sharing one tea trolley. It's for the best, believe me," Mycroft told him as he lowered his glass and smiled round at John but then his face became more grim as he walked towards a pair of armchairs in the middle of the room. "They don't want a repeat of 1972. But we can talk in here," Mycroft told him before he looked over at Joanna, frowning at her in displeasure. "I don't recall saying that you had to be here for this meeting," Mycroft told Joanna and the woman smirked back at him.

"Honey, I never asked for your permission," Joanna told Mycroft whose frown deepened as Joanna looked across at John who was eyeing the pair of them tensely. He could tell that the two of them didn't get on that well. Her New York accent never ceased to surprise John a bit, especially since it was rather thick. He wasn't used to hearing that sort of accent every day. "I go where I like and I am where I currently want to be," Joanna continued before she raised her eyebrow at Mycroft as if she was challenging him to question her. John walked forward to a small table then when he spotted a newspaper on it and he picked up a copy of "The Sun" which was lying on it and brandishes it at Mycroft.

"You read this stuff?" John asked Mycroft in disbelief and Joanna snorted in an unladylike manner.

"If you would call it reading," Joanna said as she crossed her legs at the knee before she jumped down off of the desk and landed dainty on her feet.

"Caught my eye," Mycroft told John, ignoring Joanna's comment as the woman started to pace in front of the desk with her arms still crossed over her chest. John hummed in agreement as he sat down in one of the armchairs "Saturday, they're doing a big exposé," Mycroft continued as John read the announcement at the top of the front page.

**"SHERLOCK and LEXI: THE SHOCKING TRUTH: Close Friend Richard Brook Tells All". **

**Exclusive from Kitty Riley**

**Super-sleuths Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna have today been exposed as frauds in a revelation that will shock their new found base of adoring fans. Out-of-work actor Richard Brook revealed exclusively to THE SUN that he was hired by Holmes and MacKenna in an elaborate deception to fool the British public into believing Holmes and MacKenna had above-average 'detective skills'. Brook, who has known Holmes and MacKenna separately for decades and until recently considered them to be close friends, said he was at first desperate for the money, but later found he had no….**

"I'd love to know where she got her information," John told Mycroft as Joanna hummed in agreement.

"And I thought I knew all of Lexi's close friends," Joanna mused and John looked over at her as she uncrossed her arms and stopped her pacing.

"Someone called Brook. Recognise the name?" Mycroft asked John who lowered the paper and shook his head.

"School friend, maybe?" John asked Mycroft, unsure how someone could have known Sherlock and Lexi for that long separately. Mycroft laughed in a snide way at which point John saw Joanna move closer to Mycroft while the man ignored her.

"Of Sherlock's?" Mycroft asked, chuckling again. "And besides, as far as we know Lexi had no friends growing up and there is no way to explain how this Brook even could possible know the both of them," Mycroft continued just before Joanna smack him upside the head. Mycroft turned to her with a murderous gaze and for a second John was afraid that Mycroft might hit her back as he took a step closer to her so that they were standing toe to toe, Mycroft really having to stoup down to look at the much shorter woman who didn't seem fazed at all. "I have told you to stop that," Mycroft said darkly in a threatening manner but Joanna only smirked back at him and didn't back down.

"And I've told you to stop being rude honey, but we both can't have what we want now can we?" Joanna asked him and Mycroft continued to glare daggers at her as she walked away from him and started pacing again. "Richard Brook is not the reason we asked you here," Joanna said and she continued just before Mycroft interrupted her. "And it was we who asked you here because if I remember correctly I sent you the invitation," Joanna said as she walked over to a side table and picked up several folders. She then walked over to John and gave him one of the folders. John opened the file and looked at the photograph on the top page.

"Who's that?" John asked the two of them as he looked up at Mycroft and Joanna. Mycroft was still shooting dark looks at Joanna who seemed unfazed by everything that had just happened. John could now tell where Lexi got it from only Joanna was a lot worse than she was.

"Don't know him?" Mycroft asked, regaining his calm composure as he stood behind the second armchair, Joanna standing in between the two of them with the rest of the folders in her hands. John could tell that she had put them together for Mycroft as the pictures and information in the file had a highly classified air to them and Mycroft hardly trusted anyone but those he thought he could trust to do this sort of work for him. He had to trust Joanna after all as he didn't have a choice but to.

"No," John told the both of them. He had never seen this person before.

"Never seen his face before?" Mycroft asked him John looked at the photograph again and let out a hum while he thought about it before Mycroft continued. "He's taken a flat in Baker Street, two doors down from you," Mycroft told him while Joanna pulled a face.

"Hmm! I was thinking of doing a drinks thing for the neighbours," John said and he smiled sarcastically up at Mycroft who looked back at him straight-faced. Joanna giggled before she shook her head.

"Might not be such a good idea John. Death at dinner parties seems to darken the mood," Joanna told him with a smirk and Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes. Joanna stopped smiling and looked at John more seriously as she nodded to the folder in his hands. "Sulejmani, part of an Albanian hit squad. There's an expertly-trained killer living less than twenty feet from your front door," Joanna told him not looking happy by this fact.

"It's a great location. Jubilee line's handy," John said, still joking as he didn't realize that Joanna had become more serious now too.

"John ..." Mycroft chastised him and John noticed that neither he nor Joanna were messing around anymore.

"What's it got to do with me?" John asked the two of them and Joanna walked over and handed him another one of the files.

"Dyachenko, Ludmila," Joanna told him, pronouncing the name with precision that told John she was probably also a rather good linguist. Mycroft walked around the armchair he was standing behind and gestured for Joanna to sit but she shook her head at him. Mycroft nodded once at her politely before he sat down opposite John who let out a long tired groan as he opened the file and looked at the photograph inside before frowning a little.

"Um, actually, I think I have seen her," John told the two of them and Joanna hummed slightly in agreement.

"Russian killer. She's taken the flat opposite," Mycroft told John after flicking his gaze up to Joanna.

"Again, someone for hire," Joanna told him as she brought her hand up and rubbed her temples for a second.

"Okay ... I'm sensing a pattern here," John said now sounding a little nervous. Two trained killers were living right near them, that wasn't coincidence that was planned.

"In fact John, four top international assassins relocated to within spitting distance of 221B," Joanna told him as she handed him over the rest of the files. "I've been monitoring them personally and I wouldn't be surprised if Lexi didn't notice something going on. They've been careful to try and avoid her up until this point however so the must know that she's trained," Joanna told him, folding her arms over her chest again now that she had finished.

"Anything you care to share with me?" Mycroft asked John as John looked at the photographs of the other assassins before he chuckled and looked up at Mycroft.

"I'm moving?!" John asked Mycroft who looked back at him unamused before narrowing his eyes.

"I'd like to see that conversation with Sherlock and Lexi. Hey mates! I might be wrong but I think we caught the attention of several assassins. That makes me scared…of the assassins. One thing we could do is pack up and move away from the assassins. How does that sound to…Bang," Joanna said and John and Mycroft both turned and stared at her as she grinned. Mycroft looked slightly amused as he was used to her constant outbursts but John screwed up his face in confusion and exasperation.

"It's not hard to guess the common denominator, is it?" Mycroft asked John, changing the subject and Joanna looked at Mycroft sidelong and the two shared a look. John frowned slightly while watching them because the look almost reminded him of Sherlock and Lexi's quiet conversations.

"You think this is Moriarty?" John asked him as he closed the files and set them down on his lap.

"He promised Sherlock and Lexi he'd come back," Mycroft said and Joanna made a noise in the back of her throat.

"He has been back though and for a while," Joanna said, dropping her arms to her sides and John pointed to her in agreement.

"She's right if this was Moriarty, we'd be dead already," John told Mycroft as he threw a look over at Joanna who nodded her head at him. So she thought the same thing as he did.

"If not Moriarty, then who?" Mycroft asked John before he flicked his gaze up to Joanna, raising her eyebrow at her as if to ask if she had an answer for this question. She narrowed her eyes at him before she looked away.

"Why don't you talk to Sherlock and Lexi if you're so concerned about them?" John asked Mycroft who looked away and toyed with the glass on the table beside him. John rolled his eyes while Joanna shifted uncomfortably on her feet though that might have been because she was wearing heels and refused to sit only because Mycroft had offered her the chair nicely. "Oh God, don't tell me," John said in exasperation, looking away from Mycroft and shaking his head slightly.

"Too much history between us, John. Old scores; resentments and if you haven't noticed Lexi has been a bit more difficult lately when it comes to anything that involves Sherlock," Mycroft said as if hinting to some secret when he mentioned Lexi. Joanna looked at him and raised her eyebrow dangerously as if warning him about something.

"Nicked all his Smurfs? Broke his Action Man?" John asked, ignoring his comment about Lexi and Mycroft glowered at him. John couldn't help but laugh, then he pulled himself together and put the files onto the table beside him. "Finished," He told Mycroft in a whisper before he stood up and turned to leave the room.

"We both know what's coming, John," Mycroft said and John stopped and turned back, struggling to control his anger now. "Moriarty is obsessed. He's sworn to destroy his only rivals," Mycroft continued calmly.

"So you want me to watch out for your brother and Lexi because they won't accept your help," John said tightly and Joanna nodded at him slightly.

"If it's not too much trouble," Mycroft told him and he directed a smile at John but it quickly faded and his expression became more threatening. John held his gaze, then looked away, nodded in a resigned way, and turned to go to the door again. Opening it, John looked back at Mycroft once more, who still had the same look on his face, then left the room. The sound of heels on floorboards followed him and Joanna slipped out of Mycroft's room and followed him. She shook her head at him when John went to ask her why she was following him and held her finger to her lips as she led him out to the front door. As they crossed the hallway in front of the sitting room where the men were still sitting, her heels clicked especially loudly across the floor and the men all looked up at her not only because she was a woman in their entirely male club but also because she was breaking the silence due to her foot wear.

"Oh go back to reading your papers you barmy old codgers," Joanna told them, flapping her hands at them and they all looked at her in appallment or shock as she rolled her eyes and led John to the door as he held back a smirk. Once they were outside Joanna turned to John. "Sorry about him, I still can't teach him any manners," Joanna apologized for Mycroft.

"It looks like you try though," John told her chuckling slightly as she smirked back at him.

"Every day and it is a full time job let me tell you. He's more work than I am. I feel more like a babysitter for the British Government, but someone has to be," She said as a cab pulled up in front of them. "Your cab," Joanna said smirking at John's shocked faced. "I called ahead for one after estimating how long our meeting would take after you arrived and taking into account your temper and how long you could hold out against Mycroft before you got up and left," Joanna told him with a nonchalant shrug.

"I can tell why you and Lexi are friends," John told her as he opened to door to the cab. "It's still scary that you know how to do all that, you do know that right?" John asked her and she smirked back at him and nodded.

"And some of that is just being a woman," Joanna told him with a wink and John shook his head once before he slid into the back of his cab. Joanna shut the door for him and waved him off before she walked back inside, no doubt to go a terrorize Mycroft and the "barmy old codgers" some more. Joanna Reyer certainly was not a woman you messed with if you wanted to live quietly.

The cab dropped him off across the street from the flat. As he crossed the road, John couldn't help but be aware of people passing by in the street, wondering if any of them were the assassins keeping an eye on the flat. The only thing that made John slightly more comfortable about the entire thing was the fact that Joanna was personally running surveillance on the assassins. Should one of them even twitch wrong, John was sure they would be taken out. Joanna was that serious when it came to protecting her friends. When John reached the front door, which was standing wide open, he saw that a brown envelope had been left on the doorstep. There was nothing written on the front but the back had a large old fashioned wax seal on it. He peeled open one corner of the envelope and put his finger in to slide it along the edge and slice the rest of the envelope open. Immediately a lot of brown dust, with some larger chunks of brown something, fell out. As he caught some of the debris and looked at it, a man's Cockney voice came from behind him.

"'Scuse, mate," The person said and John looked round quickly in surprise.

"Oh," John said and he stepped aside as a heavily tattooed bald-headed man wearing jeans and a black vest carried a stepladder into the hallway. John followed him in, putting the envelope into his pocket as he went. He trotted upstairs and walked into the living room. "Sherlock, Lexi, something weird ...," John started but he stopped when he saw the Lestrade and Donovan were in the room with Sherlock and Lexi. "What's going on?" John asked them in confusion.

"Kidnapping," Sherlock told him as he walked over to the table and sat down, starting to type on the laptop. Lexi was sitting cross legged in Sherlock's chair with her fingers in an okay sign resting on her knees and her eyes were closed as if she was mediating.

"Rufus Bruhl, the ambassador to the U.S," Lestrade supplied for him and John frowned deeper in confusion.

"He's in Washington, isn't he?" John asked Lestrade, not seeing how his kidnapping would have anything to do with Scotland Yard.

"Not him – his children, Max and Claudette, age seven and nine," Lestrade told him and Donovan showed him a picture of the two children as Lexi opened her eyes and then reached up on top of her head and pulled her glasses down over her face. "They're at St Aldate's."

"Posh boarding place down in Surrey," Donovan explained to John as Lexi snorted from over in Sherlock's chair as she stood up, stretching before she pulled her jumper down.

"Technically they aren't at St Aldate's anymore as that's why you've come to get us Greg. Very odd expression that," Lexi said and Lestrade sighed at her in exasperation as she moved over to Sherlock who was still typing and leaned over his shoulder.

"The school broke up; all the other boarders went home – just a few kids remained, including those two," Lestrade told the two detectives as Lexi read over Sherlock's shoulder, her lips moving ever so slightly.

"The kids have vanished," Donovan said and Lexi looked up at her and gave her a "Obviously" look, rolling her eyes before she looked back down at the computer in front of Sherlock.

"The ambassador's asked for you two personally," Lestrade told Sherlock and Lexi who were already heading out of the door with their coats and scarves over their arms.

"The Reichenbach Heroes," Donovan said sarcastically and the two detectives hesitated for a moment before they continued on. After a second Lestrade followed them out.

"Isn't it great to be working with celebrities!" Lestrade said nearly as sarcastically as Donovan. John gestured for Sally to precede him out of the room unaware that their actions were being watched by a camera high up on the living room wall near the left-hand front window.

"You're hilarious Greg, but seriously, don't quit your day job," Lexi called back to Lestrade, not sounding amused as the two detectives reached the bottom of the stairs, both of them with their coats and scarves on now. John, Lexi, and Sherlock got into the back of Lestrade's car and John began to wonder how they all would survive the car ride out to Surry with Donovan in the same car as Sherlock and Lexi.

**Third Person POV**

Somehow they managed to make the hour long car ride out to Surry without any causalities which might have been because they all stayed completely silent and Sherlock and Lexi seemed caught up in their own thoughts having silent conversations with each other every now and then. Greg drove into the grounds of the boarding school and pulled up outside the front entrance. Two police cars were already there and a woman was standing in front of one of them, leaning against the bonnet wearing a shock blanket around her shoulders and crying while a uniformed female police officer talked reassuringly to her. A man, probably a plain clothed police officer, was also talking to her but walked away as Lestrade, Donovan and the two detectives followed closely by John got out of the car and approached.

"Miss Mackenzie, House Mistress. Go easy," Lestrade told Lexi and Sherlock and he stayed back and let them both walk over to the woman on their own.

"Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night," Sherlock said before he raised his voice angrily. "What are you, an idiot, a drunk or a criminal?" Sherlock shouted and he grabbed the blanket and abruptly pulled it from around her shoulders. She gasped in fear as he glared furiously at her, Lexi's expression equally as furious. "Now quickly, tell us!" Sherlock demanded of her.

"All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No-one – not even me – went into their room last night. You have to believe me!" Ms. Mackenzie told the both of them tearfully and cringing in terror. Sherlock and Lexi's demeanour instantly changed and they smiled reassuringly at her as Sherlock gently took hold of her shoulders. "We do. I just wanted you to speak quickly," Sherlock told her calmly before he looked at the nearby police officers as he and Lexi turned and walked away. "Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now," Sherlock told them and the woman sobbed in distress as the female police officer hurried over to comfort her. Lexi stuck her hands into her pockets and looked around the place as John followed the two detectives inside the school where Sherlock and Lexi led the others into one of the dormitories.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you. You said the other kids had all left on their holidays?" John asked Lestrade as Sherlock looked in a cupboard beside one of the beds and then dropped to his knees and peered under the bed. Lexi swept the room over with her eyes, muttering quietly under her breath as if she was categorizing everything in the room and committing it to memory.

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor. Absolutely no sign of a break-in," Lestrade told them and Sherlock picked up a lacrosse stick lying on the floor and got to his feet while looking at the stick closely. He briefly wielded it as if using it as a weapon before he decided it wasn't used in that way and dropped it to the floor again. Lexi frowned for a moment in thought and John knew that frown well. "The intruder must have been hidden inside some place," Lestrade continued as Sherlock and Lexi both went over to a wooden trunk and opened the lid.

"Intruders, there was more than one," Lexi said and Lestrade looked round at her in surprise but she gave him no further explanation as to how she had worked that out as she and Sherlock bent over the trunk. Amongst the other items inside the trunk they found a large brown envelope with a wax seal on the back which had already been broken as if someone had opened the envelope. Inside was a large hardback book. Checking the envelope carefully first, Sherlock then took the book out and looked at the cover. The book was "Grimm's Fairy Tales." Sherlock and Lexi looked along the edges of the book and then Sherlock riffled the pages quickly. Finding nothing of interest, Sherlock and Lexi looked up.

"Show us where the brother slept," Sherlock told Lestrade who led them to another smaller dormitory. They looked around before going to stand beside the only bed in the room which still had bedding on it. The bed was opposite the door, which had a frosted glass pane in it. Sherlock looked towards the door while gesturing down to the bed as Lexi brought her hand up under her chin and frowned thoughtfully again. "The boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognise every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door," Sherlock said as Lexi nodded in agreement.

"Okay, so ...," Lestrade asked them, not getting the gist of what Sherlock was saying and Sherlock gestured for Lexi to take over the explanation.

"So when someone approached the door who he didn't recognize he knew it was an intruder right away. It was possible he could have even seen the outline of a weapon. Whatever happened he knew that it was someone who was about to attempt to cause him harm. U.S. ambassador's children, they would have be prepared for if something like this ever happened," Lexi explained before Sherlock left the other four of them inside the room and walked outside the door, pulling it almost closed. He raised his hand and pointed his fingers as if they were a gun, showing the others how it would be seen through the frosted glass. He pushed the door open and came back into the room as Lexi nodded once.

"What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them if not to cry out?" Sherlock asked him as he walked around the bed, looking at the boy's possessions. "This little boy; this particular little boy ..," Sherlock continued and he looked at the bedside table and pointed towards it and Lexi nodded her head as she saw what he was looking at.

"A boy who read a lot of spy books, he'd be smart. Calling out wouldn't get him much help since it was only the Matron and the two children in the school at the time so, what would he do?" Lexi asked them all and John realized exactly what Sherlock and Lexi were hinting to.

"He'd leave a sign?" John asked the two of them and Sherlock started sniffing noisily as Lexi dropped to her knees, and started sniffing around as well. Sherlock picked up a cricket bat leaning against the nearby cupboard and sniffed along both sides of it. Putting the bat down again he squatted and sniffed around the bedside table. Lexi reached under the bed then and found an almost empty glass bottle of linseed oil and she looked up, showing the bottle to Sherlock who looked up to Lestrade.

"Get Anderson," Sherlock told him sternly before he helped Lexi to her feet as she inspected the bottle, smirking slightly as if she was impressed.

Not long afterwards the room had been darkened as much as possible by closing the wooden shutters over the windows. Sherlock shined an ultraviolet light on the wall beside the boy's bed where the words "HELP US" had been written on the wall, only now visible in the light.

"Linseed oil," Lexi mused as she looked at the message closely beside Sherlock. "Used like invisible ink and can be seen only under ultraviolet light. He was well on his way to being a spy," Lexi said as she took in a deep breath and let it out.

"Not much use. Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper," Anderson said and Lexi looked back at him and rolled her eyes.

"Brilliant, Anderson," Sherlock told him as he scanned the floor with the ultraviolet light, Lexi shining her's across the floor as well as she squatted down and looked at a pair of foot prints by the bed.

"Really?" Anderson asked him in shock and disbelief, unsure if he had actually heard Sherlock right.

"Yes. Brilliant impression of an idiot," Sherlock told him quickly before he pointed downwards, shining the light close to the wooden floorboards. "The floor," Sherlock told them showing them that there were several sets of illuminated footprints of varying sizes leading towards the door and Sherlock and Lexi slowly followed them.

"He made a trail for us!" John said in surprise as he looked down at the footprints on the floor, trying to make out the jumbled mess.

"The boy was made to walk ahead of them," Sherlock said as John looked at the shape of some of the smaller footprints.

"On, what, tiptoe?" John asked the two of them in confusion as Lexi placed her foot near one of the foot prints which was almost the same size as her own foot.

"Indicates anxiety; a gun held to his head," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi walked slowly out into the corridor, which had also been blacked out, and followed the footsteps. Anderson walked beside them with another ultraviolet light.

"The girl was pulled beside along, dragged sideways. She had her left arm cradled about her neck," Sherlock said and Lestrade looked up at that in surprise.

"She?" Lestrade asked them and Lexi nodded before she pointed to a pair of foot prints.

"The second intruder was a woman. She didn't have gun on her though so she kept her arm around the girl's neck. Probably told her she would snap her neck if she tried to get away. These footprints are smaller and also lighter than the heavier footprints which belonged to the other intruder who was male," Lexi explained as she pointed out the foot prints and John could see what she meant, now able to see the smaller footsteps of the second intruder which were mixed up behind the first so that they were almost unnoticeable. A few yards along the corridor the glowing footsteps stopped.

"That's the end of it. We don't know where they went from here," Anderson said, stating the obvious and Sherlock and Lexi both stopped, Anderson turning back to them. "Tells us nothing after all," Anderson told the two of them and Lexi raised her eyebrow at that.

"You're right, Anderson – nothing," Sherlock told him and he paused for a moment before taking a breath. "Except their shoe size, their height, their gait, their walking pace," Sherlock told Anderson quick fire and he reached to the closest window and tore down the blackout material that had been stuck across it. Daylight flooded back into the corridor and Lexi and Sherlock put their lights onto the window sill. They both knelt down and Sherlock took out his wallet of tools and two small lidded plastic Petri dishes from his inside pocket one of which he handed to Lexi. While the police went back towards the bedroom, Sherlock put his dish on the floor, opened the wallet, and chuckled contentedly. John squatted down beside them and Lexi looked up to him.

"Having fun?" John asked the both of them and Lexi grinned a bit at him and she nodded.

"Starting to," Sherlock told him as he continued to work.

"Maybe don't do the smiling," John told the two of them and Lexi snorted slightly and drew her mouth into a slight frown as Sherlock lifted his head. "Kidnapped children?" John asked the two of them and Sherlock lowered his head again and concentrated on scraping some of the dried linseed oil and floor wax loose with a small scalpel before he used a pair of tweezers to pick up the loosened pieces and put them into the container. Lexi repeated the process over one of the female intruder's footprints before Sherlock took her Petri dish from her and put the both of them into his inner pocket. They checked with Lestrade before the three of them left, walking out to the street and hailing a cab. They headed back to London to no doubt get started on solving the case which meant not sleeping for a while.

"But how did they get past the CCTV? If all the doors were locked ...," John asked the two detectives and Lexi opened her eyes and seemed to leave her thinking for another time.

"They walked in when they weren't locked," Lexi told him as she looked over at Sherlock who nodded in agreement with her statement.

"But strangers can't just walk into a school like that," John told her in confusion and Lexi nodded at that.

"Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment. Yesterday – end of term, parents milling around, chauffeurs, staff. What's two more stranger among that lot?" Sherlock asked John as Lexi tilted her head to the side and looked back at John.

"Especially if those strangers were a man and a woman who could look like parents picking up their kids. The best disguise is the simplest John. Hide in plain site by blending in with the environment. Then you become just another face in the crowd," Lexi told John who frowned at her deeply.

"They were waiting for them. All they had to do was find a place to hide," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded once as she looked out of the front of the cab.

"And then the waiting began," Lexi said and Sherlock looked across to John and the two men shared a look, John not sure if Lexi was talking about the case anymore or about something entirely different as if she was waiting for something to happen.


	80. Not With A Bang But With A Whimper

**Hello Sweeties! So here is the next chapter for you all. I almost have the first chapter done for The Hat Is Paramount my Cabin Pressure crossover. It is taking a bit longer to write than I expected given my crazy college classes right now but hang in there. Hopefully I can post that soon. Umm... let's see. That's about it. So Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Eight- Not With A Bang But With A Whimper<strong>

**Molly's POV**

At St. Bart's Hospital, Molly Hooper walked along a corridor, pulling her coat on. She was feeling pretty good and ready to get out of here and enjoy lunch out with a new friend she had met, a girl named Joanna who she had run into at a coffee shop. She was a nice girl, just moved here from America and Molly was happy to show her around and help explain things to her since she still was having issues understanding all the British terms and money system. She couldn't even make a proper cup of tea! Molly could tell that she wasn't used to asking for help and didn't like asking for it either so Molly just helped her anyway. Just as she reached the fire doors at the end of the corridor, Sherlock, Lexi, and John walked through them.

"Molly!" Sherlock said and Molly knew that tone and it never meant good things for her.

"Oh, hello. I'm just going out," Molly said, greeting them politely before she frowned, still fixing her jacket which was a bit twisted.

"No you're not," Sherlock told her, putting his hands onto her shoulders and turning her back the way she just came. Lexi smiled at her apologetically.

"I've got a lunch date," Molly tried, timidly. She was never able to speak up over Sherlock and Molly looked across to Lexi for help but from the look on her face Molly could tell that they honestly needed her help, not just Sherlock saying he needed her to stay behind for no reason. Whatever this was it was important. Sherlock put a hand on her back to start her walking again as Lexi walked on the other side of him.

"Cancel it. You're having lunch with us," Sherlock told her reaching into his coat pockets and he dramatically produced a bag of Quavers crisps from each pocket as Lexi pulled two similar bags from her own pockets and smiled sheepishly at Molly.

"What?" Molly asked Sherlock, still a bit overwhelmed.

"Need your help. It's one of your old boyfriends – we're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty!" Sherlock told her, putting the crisps back into his pockets as did Lexi. Reaching the fire doors at the other end of the corridor, Sherlock turned and smiled back at Molly, who had stopped dead a few paces back. John also stopped and stared at the two detectives having not figured that part out yet.

"It's Moriarty?" John asked them in shock as Sherlock started to open the door and Lexi nodded once at him.

"Course it's Moriarty," Sherlock told him as Lexi took in a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"It always is John. Actually he's getting a bit predictable," Lexi said as she looked across to Sherlock and shared a look with him, the detective nodding back at her.

"Er, Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it," Molly told them, speaking up for herself as Joanna had told her that she needed to try to do as she nervously played with her hands.

"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organised a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly," Sherlock said before reaching into his pocket and pulling out and brandising a bag of Quavers at her again. Lexi smacked him around the head then and Molly hid her smirk as Sherlock started rubbing the back of his head. "Woman!" Sherlock shouted and Lexi fixed him with a glare before she threw an apologetic look at Molly. He then continued on through the fire door, Lexi following after him as they argued about something. John looked at Molly once before following after the two of them and Molly stared after them in utter bewilderment. She sighed once before shaking her head and following them. Apparently that lunch date would have to be cancelled after all, hopefully Joanna could understand.

Shortly afterwards, Molly had changed back into her lab coat. Joanna had thankfully understood that she needed to cancel their lunch date and Sherlock had sent her to get a whole bunch of books and files for him. As she pushed her way through the door into Sherlock's favourite lab weighed down by the huge pile of books and files she was carrying, Lexi quickly jumped off the lab table where she was sitting next to Sherlock. Molly staggered into the room as Sherlock ignored her and didn't even look her way as he sat at the bench in front of a microscope. Lexi grabbed the top part of the stack that Molly was carrying and helped her to carry the books and files over to one of the other lab tables. Molly grinned at her in appreciation, sighing slightly as she shook out her sore arms. John was standing at the other side of the bench behind Sherlock as Molly and Lexi turned back to her. Molly could tell that Lexi was bothered by something as she seemed a little more on edge than normal, not her normal happy self.

"Oil, John," Sherlock explained to the army doctor as he opened his plastic Petri dish and took out one of the samples with a pair of tweezers. "The oil in the kidnappers' footprints – it'll lead us to Moriarty," Sherlock continued as he dropped the sample into a test tube which had some liquid in the bottom. The fluid began to fizz and he suctioned up some of the liquid and dropped it onto a slide. "All the chemical traces on their shoes have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky we can see everything that they've been up to," Sherlock said and he looked at the slide under his microscope. Lexi looked over at Molly and shook her head, rolling her eyes and offering up a smile which Molly returned before both woman went over and started working next to each other, Molly actually quite happy about working with her.

Molly did like Lexi a lot and she was alright with her and Sherlock dating now, in fact, she thought they were perfect for each other. It still hurt a bit when Sherlock ignored her but it was sort of sweet how Sherlock only seemed to notice Lexi when she was in the room. Lexi was really nice to her too and even apologized to her after they officially got together. Molly had known though at Christmas that they were together or at least that they were more than friends if not together yet, but she had still hoped that it was possible that Sherlock might feel something for her too. Joanna and Molly had talked about guys together and Molly told her a bit about her Sherlock troubles. Joanna was…well she was a lot more outspoken than Molly, but she sort of liked that. Joanna had told her that any guy who couldn't see how smart and beautiful she was wasn't even worth her time and that guy, Molly hadn't given her Sherlock's name, could go and fuck off. Joanna seemed to not care what she said and she did say exactly what came to mind without a filter. Molly wanted to be able to do that too, to stand up for herself and be outspoken like Joanna was but she rather doubted that that would ever happen. Molly pulled a face as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves and Lexi chuckled as she pulled her glove back and snapped it into place. Molly giggled a bit as she shared a look with Lexi, the Irish girl looking slightly less tense now.

"I need that analysis," Sherlock told them, getting them concentrated on work again and Molly reached across to pick up her pipette before she squeezed some liquid into a watch glass and applied some Litmus paper to it. The paper turned blue and Molly nodded once.

"Alkaline," Molly told Sherlock as she brought the dish over to him and showed him the Litmus paper.

"Thank you, Lexi," Sherlock told her and Molly sighed before she corrected him.

"Molly," Molly told him as she looked up and Lexi threw her an apologetic look, miming hitting Sherlock on the back of the head and gesturing for her to do so. Molly shook her head before she turned away unhappily.

**Third Person POV**

Sherlock found the first component in the mixture of items and showed Lexi the results so that she could confirm them. After she did she made a note of it in the notebook beside him on the lab table.

**1. Chalk**

Sherlock took another sample and dissolved it. The results of their second test revealed another item which Lexi also made a note of.

**2. Asphalt**

Dissolving another sample into a dish and some more tests revealed the third result.

**3. Brick Dust**

And another sample dissolved and heated over a Bunsen burner revealed another result.

**4. Vegetation**

Later, Sherlock had another sample on a slide and was looking at it in the microscope quietly murmuring to himself.

"I ... owe ... you," Sherlock muttered softly and Lexi looked over at him frowning. Sherlock turned his head and looked at a computer screen nearby after flicking his gaze over to Lexi and sharing a long look with her before she nodded. "Glycerol molecule," Sherlock said and Lexi leaned in towards the computer, looking at the screen with her glasses on. Sherlock sighed heavily as he struggled to identify the item, seeing it in his head as:

**5. ?**

"What are you?" Sherlock asked himself as he looked into the microscope again as Molly stood beside him typing onto a laptop, Lexi on his other side writing out chemical formulas.

"What did you mean, "I owe you?"" Molly asked him as John walked across the lab on the other side of the bench. Sherlock raised his eyes from the microscope and watched him crossing the room as Lexi looked over at Molly. "You said, "I owe you." You were muttering it while you were working and Lexi was doing the same thing earlier," Molly continued as Sherlock turned back to looking into the microscope. Lexi kept her gaze for several more seconds before she began writing out her formulas again.

"Nothing. Mental note," Sherlock told her and Molly looked at him sceptically.

"You're a bit like my dad. He's dead," Molly said before she closed her eyes, embarrassed. "No, sorry," Molly apologized as Lexi looked over to her and tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area," Sherlock said and Molly cringed just as Sherlock shot his hand out and grabbed Lexi's wrist before she managed to smack him. He stared at her for a long moment before she nodded, narrowing her eyes at him once, letting him off the hook this time. Molly continued while the both of them were distracted by each other.

"When he was ... dying, he was always cheerful; he was lovely – except when he thought no-one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad," Molly said and Sherlock turned back to her as he let go of Lexi's wrist and she continued to give him a disapproving look for a moment before she looked up at Molly.

"Molly ...," Sherlock told her sternly but she cut over him, getting a bit of confidence as she remembered what Joanna had told her to do, stand up for herself and stick to her convictions.

"You two look sad ...," Molly said as she glance towards John. "...when you think he can't see you," Molly finished and Sherlock's eyes lifted from the microscope as Lexi turned her head, the both of their eyes drifting towards John who was looking through papers on the other side of the lab some distance away, unaware of the conversation. Sherlock and Lexi both turned their heads and looked at Molly. "Are you okay?" Molly asked them and they both opened their mouths but she interrupted before they could speak. "And don't just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no-one can see you," Molly told them, very concerned about how they could both look so sad when they were so happy together.

"You can see us," Sherlock told her and Molly shook her head at him.

"I don't count," She told Sherlock and he blinked and really looked at her, possibly for the first time since he had known her.

"You always count Molly. Everyone always counts and everyone is important," Lexi told her and Molly nod once at her before she took a deep breath.

"What I'm trying to say is that, if there's anything I can do, anything you two need, anything at all, you can have me," Molly told them and she flinched and looked away briefly. "No, I just mean ... I mean if there's anything you two need ...," Molly said, stumbling over her words, and she shook her. "It's fine," She told them and she turned away, feeling stupid for even suggesting it as Sherlock looked a little shaken.

"What-what-what could we need from you?" Sherlock asked Molly, stuttering for the first time and Molly turned back to him and Lexi.

"Nothing," Molly told him and she shrugged. "I dunno. You could probably say thank you, actually," Molly told him and she nodded nervously but firmly. The side of Sherlock's mouth twitched as if it didn't know exactly how to say the words.

"... Thank you," Sherlock said hesitantly and he frowned and turned his head away as if surprised that he had said it.

"Thank you Molly," Lexi said sincerely and Molly looked up at her and they shared a look for a long moment before Molly nodded at her then started to walk towards the door.

"I'm just gonna go and get some crisps. Do you want anything?" Molly asked them and Sherlock started to open his mouth but she turned back and beat him to it. "It's okay, I know you don't," Molly told him as she smiled slightly at Lexi.

"Well, actually, maybe I'll ...," Sherlock said and Molly shook her head at him.

"I know you don't," Molly repeated before she looked over at Lexi. "Coffee Lexi?" She asked and Lexi nodded her head gratefully.

"Yes, please," Lexi told her and Molly sent her a little smile before she turned and walked away, leaving the room. The two detectives watched her go, and then Sherlock gazed into the distance thoughtfully for a moment before looking back to his microscope.

On the other side of the lab, ignorant of the conversation that had just taken place, John was looking through police photographs taken at the school. He found one of the inside of the wooden trunk which showed the envelope with the wax seal, and another with a close-up of the seal.

"Sherlock, Lexi," John called to get the two detectives attentions and Sherlock hummed as Lexi looked up from her notes, her pen in her mouth as she bit the end of it. "This envelope that was in her trunk. There's another one," John told them as he walked over to where he had put his jacket.

"What?" Sherlock asked John as he looked up from the microscope and followed the army doctor with his eyes as Lexi took the pen out of her mouth and frowned.

"On our doorstep. Found it today," John told them as he got the envelope out of his pocket and looked at it. "Yes, and look at that," John said as he brought the envelope round the bench and gave it to Sherlock. "Look at that. Exactly the same seal," John told them as Lexi pulled her glasses down from the top of her head and slid them on up to the bridge of her nose. Sherlock reached into the envelope and took out some of the brown dust.

"Breadcrumbs," Lexi said as she looked at them and then she looked up at John. "You found it today?" She asked him and John nodded at her in confirmation.

"Uh-huh. It was there when I got back," John told her as Sherlock dropped the rest of the breadcrumbs back into the envelope.

"A little trace of breadcrumbs; hardback copy of fairy tales," Sherlock said and his eyes widened as he looked up at Lexi who raised her eyebrow in surprise. "Two children led into the forest by a wicked father follow a little trail of breadcrumbs," Sherlock told the both of them and Lexi nodded.

"Hansel and Gretel, exactly too, a boy and girl only it looks like their stepmom also led them into the forest. That part changed," Lexi said frowning, not liking that something had changed in the story.

"What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?" John asked the two detectives, frowning as he shook his head in confusion.

"The sort that likes to boast; the sort that thinks it's all a game. He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to us ...," Sherlock said, trailing off as Lexi looked back at him, reciting the words from memory.

""Every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain." I told him that it wasn't a fairytale and that we weren't children playing a game and he asked me "Aren't we?"" Lexi recited, closing her eyes as she called up the words before she opened her eyes and looked to Sherlock who nodded at her once. He put the envelope down and adjusted his microscope before starting to look into it again.

"The fifth substance, it's part of the tale," Sherlock said and he looked up again. "The witch's house!" Sherlock said and Lexi pointed at him, nodding in agreement.

"What?" John asked them in confusion, not understanding him.

"The witch's house John! In the story the witch feed the children more and more sweets to fatten them up before she was going to cook them. The sweets made them ill in the story," Lexi said as she looked back at Sherlock. "The glycerol molecule we found!" Lexi told Sherlock and the final element in the sample became clear to him.

"PGPR!" Sherlock said fiercely and Lexi looked round at him in surprise.

"What's that?" John asked the two detectives quickly, not understanding all of their chemistry talk even if he was a doctor.

"It's used in making chocolate," Sherlock told him as he leapt to his feet and he and Lexi hurried out of the lab.

"And knowing the story most likely the chocolate is deadly," Lexi called back as they caught up with Molly who was just on her way back to the lab. "Sorry Molly we have to run," Lexi told her hanging back as Sherlock and John ran on ahead. "Kids, we found the last part of the sample, PGPR, I'll call you later," Lexi told Molly, looking back to the door where Sherlock and John were waiting for her.

"No, it's alright, go," Molly told her handing over the paper cup of coffee she was carrying. "You'll probably need that," Molly told her with a slightly grin and Lexi pulled her into a tight sideways hug before she hurried off toward John and Sherlock, waving over her shoulder.

"Love you Molls!" Lexi called over her shoulder and Molly waved after her and smiled slightly to herself before frowning as the trio disappeared. Yes, they most certainly only looked sad when they thought John wasn't watching.

The detectives and their army doctor raced down to Scotland Yard, Lexi calling ahead for Lestrade to already be expecting their arrival and telling him that he best be ready to move quickly because they had found a lead. When the trio arrived Lestrade handed a sheet of paper to Sherlock as he led him, Lexi, and John into the department's main office.

"This fax arrived an hour ago," Lestrade told the two detectives as they looked down at the large handwritten note on the paper.

**HURRY UP**

**THEY'RE**

**DYING!**

Sherlock handed the note off to John as Lexi looked up at Sherlock, her mouth drawn into a hard line.

"It's the same handwriting from before which confirms our theory," Lexi told Sherlock and he nodded at her, the only one to get the reference she made. Lestrade looked at her oddly in his confusion before he shook his head.

"What have you got for us?" Lestrade asked the two detectives ready to start finding these kids since they apparently had a new lead in the case.

"Need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect," Sherlock told the D.I. as he handed a piece of paper off too Lestrade who started to read the list aloud.

"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetation ... What the hell is this? Chocolate?" Lestrade asked the two detectives in confusion. He had never gotten something as random as this from them before. This wasn't a lead.

"That is our master list of things we found and the explanation about what exactly it is would take far longer than we currently have time for. Trust our data though," Lexi told Lestrade who nodded at her minutely. Trusting their data, he could do that because God only knew he didn't have anything else to go off of.

"We think we're looking for a disused sweet factory," Sherlock told Lestrade as Lexi got out here phone and started typing away quickly on her keyboard.

"We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?" Lestrade asked the two detectives as Donovan got up from behind her desk, the entire police force working overtime behind their desks around them.

"No. No-no-no. Too general. Need something more specific. Chalk; chalky clay – that's a far thinner band of geology," Sherlock told Lestrade as he called up a map of London in his head, overlaying it with the names of the towns, then he began zooming in and out of various areas.

"Brick dust?" Lestrade asked the two detectives and Lexi looked up from her phone still somehow managing to type on it even if she wasn't looking down at what she was doing.

"From a building site. Bricks from the 1950s by our calculations," Lexi calcified for him and Lestrade rubbed at his face in despair.

"There's thousands of building sites in London," Lestrade said and Sherlock looked at him in exasperation over the distraction.

"We've got people out looking," Sherlock told Lestrade to assure him at least a little that something was being done about it. Sherlock looked across to Lexi who was still typing rapid as she did some very quick, very important work all from a phone no less.

"So have I," Lestrade told him in exasperation. He was actually doing something. Lestrade looked side long at Lexi who looked up, pausing for a moment as she thought before she made an annoyed face and went back to whatever it was she was doing.

"Homeless network – faster than the police," Sherlock said and he smiled snidely. "Far more relaxed about taking bribes," Sherlock added and Anderson who was sitting at a nearby desk looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

"And so is my own personal network which I like to call British Security Services," Lexi said, looking up from her phone as she finished typing. Lestrade looked at her in surprise, still unable to understand how she managed to get contacts of that calibre. "Currently on the quickest search of the city imaginable," Lexi said and just then Sherlock and Lexi's phones both trilled a text alert, followed by several more alerts. Sherlock brandished his phone triumphantly at Lestrade while the messages continued to pour in. Smiling smugly, he lifted the phone up high and called up his mental London map in front of him, flicking his eyes across to the phone to look at each photograph and then transferring it to the map. One of the photos, a close-up shot of some purple flowers, attracted his particular attention.

"John, Lexi," Sherlock said and he held the phone out to John to show him the picture before he turned and showed it to Lexi who nodded at him quickly as she showed him a similar picture on her own phone. "Rhododendron ponticum. It matches," Sherlock told them and he went back to the mental map and scanned around it to the only places in London where such a plant grew. He then found the one place that contained the other elements as well.

"Addlestone," Sherlock and Lexi said in unison just as Lexi looked up from her phone.

"What?" Lestrade asked the two of them in confusion as he looked up from the computer he was looking at over someone's shoulder.

"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything," Sherlock told him quickly as Lexi held up her phone.

"And British Security Service is calling up some CCTV footage for me of a van that was seen in the area as we speak," Lexi told Lestrade before she and Sherlock turned and hurried out of the office with John in hot pursuit.

"Right, come on," Lestrade said, turning to look at his team. "Come on!" Lestrade shouted more hurriedly when Donovan hesitated and she jumped up and hurried after him as the detectives and their army doctor rushed on ahead. Lexi shouted back and address to Lestrade of the disused factory that the van had pulled into on the CCTV footage that had been sent to her phone and that was where Lestrade sent all of his officers. Thank God for British Security Service apparently and Lexi's apparent connect to them.

Several police cars raced across London to the disused factory that Lexi had directed them to and the police officers, together with Sherlock, Lexi, and John, ran inside the dark building, the Irish detective surprising everyone with her finesse as she ran ahead of them and kicked opened the doors to the factory, slipping inside first before they all rushed in after her. Everyone switched on flashlights and Sally coordinated the police as they started to search in all directions. Lexi had her eyes closed and she was pointing out random things in the air before she opened her eyes and nodded at Sherlock once.

"You, look over there. Look everywhere. Okay, spread out, please. Spread out," Donovan directed the police officers as Lestrade led another team which included Lexi, Sherlock, and John into another part of the factory.

"Look in there. Quietly. Quietly," Lestrade directed his officers softly, knowing that any loud noises or sudden movements might traumatize the children more than they already were. As they made their way deeper into the factory, Sherlock found a large number of empty sweet wrappers scattered on the floor around a candle on a plate and he ran over to it followed closely by Lexi and John. He touched the wick of the candle before he looked up at Lexi

"This was alight moments ago," Sherlock said before he called out loudly to the others. "They're still here," Sherlock told the other officers as the search continued all around them. "Sweet wrappers. What's he been feeding you?" Sherlock asked as Lexi knelt down next to him and Sherlock picked up one of the wrappers and looked at it more closely as Lexi also picked one up.

"Hansel and Gretel," Lexi said, closing her eyes again as they both stood up. "Something in the chocolate would have made them ill but not the illness of just a stomach ache. Poison?" Lexi asked him as she opened her eyes again and Sherlock held the wrapper closer to the beam of his flashlight and sniffed the paper before touching the tip of his tongue to it and grimacing. He looked at the wrapper in startled realisation of what he had just tasted.

"Mercury," Sherlock told Lexi and she grimaced before she touched the tip of her tongue to the sweet wrapper she was holding for a second analysis.

"Definitely Mercury," Lexi said, shaking her head as she made a face. "Mercury poisoning," Lexi continued as Lestrade ducked under the pipes and came over to find them.

"What?" Lestrade asked them in confusion as he flashed his torch over all the sweet wrappers on the ground.

"The papers, they're painted with mercury," Sherlock explained to Lestrade and John groaned knowing full well what the detectives did.

"Mercury is lethal. The more of the stuff they ate...," Lexi said, trailing off as she dropped the sweet wrapper in her hand and brushed her hands off quickly on her coat.

"He was killing them," John said as he flashed his torch around the general area and Lestrade went back to searching around the place.

"Mercury isn't enough to kill them on its own though. Taken in large enough quantities, eventually it would kill them yes, but they would have to ingest a rather lot of it," Lexi explained as the police continued searching the building. Sherlock was now locked onto his thoughts about Moriarty and he looked at Lexi who he could see was having the same thoughts as he was.

"He didn't need to be there for the execution. Murder by remote control. He could be a thousand miles away," Sherlock told her as nearby, Donovan saw something in the light of her torch. She moved closer and saw a little girl sitting on the ground with her brother's head in her lap. His eyes were closed and the girl looked around at Donovan, her eyes filled were fear. "The hungrier they got, the more they ate ... the faster they died," Sherlock told Lexi quietly and he grinned. "Neat," Sherlock commented as Lexi grinned as well.

"As a method of murder it is quite effective," Lexi said and John looked at his two friends in surprise over how nonchalant they could be over someone trying to murder two kids. Sherlock he could understand, but not Lexi, then again, she did make the same comments as Sherlock did just not as frequently. It was like John had become desensitized to here over the last few months. She still was like Sherlock in some ways.

"Sherlock, Lexi," John told his friends reprovingly as he fixed the both of them with a hard look and Lexi just shrugged at him.

"Over here!" Donovan suddenly called out and everyone ran in the direction of her voice. Donovan and the other officers reached down to the children, but John, Sherlock, and Lexi stood back a little ways from the group. "I've got you. Don't worry," Donovan told the little girl who was still conscious.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock was pacing outside the office where Lestrade and Donovan were currently having a discussion with the little girl. John sat nearby but Lexi, like him, was choosing to pace rather than sit. Sherlock slid his gaze over to her and they looked eyes, sharing information with a look. This was Moriarty, but what game was he playing this time. Kidnapping children didn't exactly burn them in anyway. There was something else to this, something else he had planned. Lexi had already been on edge since they found out Moriarty was involved in this and Sherlock didn't know how to make her feel any better. He had seen her send several messages off to Joanna however so he knew that she was keeping the Ghost protocol ready and updated. The Ghost protocol was something she had come up with Joanna in case they needed to disappear, literally become Ghosts and there were several possibilities the program could take all activated with a certain code word. Lexi had planned for everything including the most extremes of cases, but with Moriarty, you could never plan too far in advance. The door to the office opened and Donovan and Lestrade came out. Lexi immediately stopped pacing and stood next to his side, her arms crossed in front of her chest but she was ever so subtly leaning in towards him. Sherlock had run some tests and he noticed that they both subconsciously leaned towards each other so even now when Lexi was more distressed and defensively crossing her arms, she still kept in close contact with him.

"Right, then. The professionals have finished. If the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn...," Donovan told Sherlock and Lexi sarcastically and John stood up and walked over to join them. Lexi rolled her eyes and snorted but held back the comment Sherlock could see she wanted to make.

_'I thought the amateurs already had their turn,'_ Lexi told Sherlock with a sidelong glance and a slight raise of her eyebrow and Sherlock's lips turned up in an almost undistinguishable smirk. Lestrade looked at both Sherlock and Lexi seriously, drawing their attention away from each other.

"Now, remember, she's in shock and she's just seven years old, so anything you can do to...," Lestrade started to tell them before Sherlock cut him off.

"... not be ourselves," Sherlock finished and Lestrade nodded at him slightly in agreement.

"Yeah. Might be helpful," Lestrade told them and Lexi took on an offended expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm wonderful thank you," Lexi told Lestrade who rolled his eyes at her as Donovan snorted. Sherlock and Lexi looked round to John next and doing everything but roll their eyes, they reached up and unpoped the collars of their coats, folding them down flat before they lead John and the others into the office. The little girl was sitting at a table looking down into her lap and a female liaison officer was sitting beside her stroking her arm reassuringly.

"Claudette, I ...," Sherlock started but he got no further because the girl lifted her head, took one look at him and Lexi and began to scream in terror.

"Sweetie, shhhh, we know you've been through a lot but it's okay now, you're alright," Lexi said, trying to calm the girl down, but she continued screaming and scrambled to get away while pointing at them both.

"Claudette, listen to us ...," Sherlock started as Lexi said "Sweetie" again in holding her hands out towards the girl in a pacifying gesture.

"Out. Get out!" Lestrade shouted and he grabbed one of Lexi and Sherlock's arms and bundled them both out of the room as the girl continued to scream. The girl finally quieted down after they were out of the room and several minutes had passed by.

Sherlock now stood at the window of another office beside Lexi, looking out into the night through the slats of the Venetian blinds. Without looking at each other, they made it look like they were simply watching the street as they communicated silently through their reflections in the glass. For some reason the girl only screamed when she saw them but was fine with everyone else. Lexi only told him one simple word when he asked her what she thought about that and the word was Moriarty. Sherlock had one hand linked together with hers and he was rubbing circles over the back of her hand comfortingly. She seemed to be lost up in her thoughts and it was the first time that Sherlock saw her like this. Normally she had a lot to say, but now she was caught up in her own inner musing like he often was. She was calculating. Sherlock could see that she was calculating something quickly and going through her Mind Palace for data. She only calculated like this when she was forming a theory or perhaps a plan. Sherlock could see she was putting piece of something together though and so he left her to it, but kept his hand in hers, squeezing her hand with reassuring pressure just so that she would know he was there for her. She was standing so close to him that their arms were pressed together which was definitely a good sign. It meant that she was relying more heavily on him rather than pushing him away. Sherlock would admit that one of these days he worried that she might, they're work was stressful after all and all of this trouble with Moriarty was getting to the both of them, but it seemed like the worse it got, the closer they were. Donovan was standing at the other side of the office and Sherlock could see from her reflection on the glass in between the slats of the blinds that she was watching them thoughtfully.

"Makes no sense," John said behind them and Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly as Sherlock saw her leave her Mind Palace and join back in on the conversation. She squeezed his hand and turned to look up at him, smiling slightly at him. She turned back to the window and leaned her head against his shoulder as she brought her other hand up and played with her engagement ring. That was another thing he noticed her doing lately. When she was thinking she would reach up and play with it or when she seemed to be reminding herself of something. She would then always stop playing with it and look at him fondly like she was now in the glass. Sherlock allowed a small smile to creep onto his face as he let go of her hand and slid it around her waist, pulling her more closely to him.

"The kid's traumatised. Something about Sherlock and Lexi reminds her of the kidnappers," Lestrade told John and Lexi's eyebrow raised again as she listened to them.

"So what's she said?" John asked Donovan and Lestrade.

"Hasn't uttered another syllable," Donovan told John and Lexi frowned slightly at that before closing her eyes for a long second and opening them again.

"And the boy?" John asked Lestrade as their conversation turned into background noise. What they were saying was all currently unimportant to this case. No it wasn't important what the children said, it was important about finding out more about what Moriarty was planning.

"No, he's unconscious; still in intensive care," Lestrade told them and as he said that something caught Sherlock and Lexi's eye outside of the window. In the building opposite Scotland Yard, all the lights in the offices came on. On the second floor, spray paint had been applied to three of the office windows. Sherlock and Lexi stared at the enormous letters that had been painted, Lexi lifting her head off of Sherlock's shoulder as she looked at the letters numbly.

**I O U**

Seconds later, the lights on that floor went out again. Behind Sherlock and Lexi, the others were unaware of what they had just seen because the view was blocked by the blinds and they carried on with their unimportant conversation. All the general population normal did was eat chips, go to bed, and watch telly, while all the time, underneath them, there was a war going on. Not one of them once realized that there was a war going on right underneath their noses right now. The children being kidnapped was the first casualty of war and on one side of this war was Moriarty and on the other him and Lexi. London was their battleground and the first shots had already been fired.

"Well, don't let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you two walk into a room! In fact, so do most people," Lestrade said speaking to them now as he no doubt thought that they were upset for some reason over the girl's reaction. Lestrade looked round at Donovan and John. "Come on," Lestrade told them and he and John left the room. Donovan stayed behind as Sherlock and Lexi turned away from the window and started walking towards the door together, Sherlock holding her hand again.

"Brilliant work you two did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing," Donovan told them, her hands in her pockets, and a note of sarcasm in her voice.

"Thank you," Sherlock told her, hoping that that answer would suffice so that they could leave.

"Unbelievable," Donovan continued pointedly and Sherlock and Lexi hesitated for a moment.

"Well we do try," Lexi told Donovan, looking back at her once and grinning slightly before her grin fell and Sherlock and her continued on, Donovan watching them go with a thoughtful expression.

**Third Person POV**

Outside, John waited for Sherlock and Lexi to join him and once they walked out of the Yard, they started walking out to the curb together. John looked down the street for a taxi as Sherlock wound his arm tightly around Lexi's waist again, tucking her under his arm protectively.

"Ah," John said and he raised his hand to hail the approaching taxi. As the three of them walked to the edge of the curb, John looked round to Sherlock and Lexi and noticed how Sherlock was holding her along with both of their expressions. "You two okay?" John asked the two detectives in concern as he frowned slightly.

"Thinking," Sherlock answered for the both of them as the taxi pulled up at the curb. "This is our cab. You get the next one," Sherlock told John as he opened the door and Lexi detached herself from his side to slide into the back of the cab.

"Why?" John asked Sherlock in a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

"You might talk," Sherlock told him, getting into the cab himself and closing the door, Lexi sliding next to him and tucking herself under his arm again as Sherlock lifted one hand under his mouth. The taxi pulled away from the cub and Sherlock tightened his arm around Lexi as she lowered her head to rest it on his chest as she closed her eyes, thinking. John stared after the cab at the edge of the curb in disbelief before sighing.

Back inside Scotland Yard, Donovan was in a large office and had scattered all the police photographs and other evidence over a long table. She stood looking down at everything thoughtfully. Lestrade walked along the corridor outside and noticed her. He stopped and looked into the room as Donovan mentally played back earlier moments.

_"What the hell is this? Chocolate?"_

_"We think we're looking for a disused sweet factory."_

Then Claudette had screamed in terror.

_"Get out!"_

Now Lestrade entered the room and walked over to Donovan as Claudette's screams faded from her mind.

"Problem?" Lestrade asked her and she looked round at him, then back down at the evidence again.

Sherlock sat in the back lost in thought, holding closely to Lexi who had her eyes closed. Every so often her lips would move as she said something to herself but no sound escaped from her. Partway into the journey back to Baker Street, the TV screen on the back of the driver's seat switched on and an advertisement started to play. London Taxi Shopping was advertising jewellery.

"This is a stunning evening wear set from us here at London Taxi Shopping," The voiceover on the telly said.

"Can you turn this off, please?" Sherlock asked the driver as Lexi's eyes flashed open and she lifted her head off his chest, sitting up and blinking as she looked around before he eyes landed on the telly. The driver didn't respond and the advert continued as Sherlock brought Lexi closer to him again.

"As you can see, the set comprises of a beautiful ...," The voiceover continued.

"Can you turn this off ...," Sherlock told the driver loudly, his voice tinged with anger as it was interrupting both his thinking and Lexi's and Sherlock was actually aware of the fact that Lexi had been asleep before the advert turned on. She hadn't been sleeping lately but that she fell asleep on him in the cab told him that she felt safe next to him, knowing he would watch out for her. The image on the screen began to fritz as if another channel was breaking through. There were momentary glimpses of someone who could only be Jim Moriarty grinning at the screen. Eventually the advert disappeared entirely and Jim was smiling cheerfully back at them. Behind Moriarty was a pale blue wall with painted white fluffy clouds floating across it. His voice took on a sing-song quality as if he was talking to children.

"Hullo. Are you ready for the story? This is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot and Lady Fanfaronade," Moriarty said and Sherlock started at the screen with Lexi, their expressions both intense. Sherlock heard Lexi growl lowly in the back of her throat as she watched the image of Moriarty on the screen and Sherlock's arm reflectively tightened around her protectively.

Back at Scotland Yard, Donovan was showing Lestrade one of the photographs.

"The footprint. It's all they had. A footprint," Donovan told Lestrade saying the last part quietly as she lowered the picture and looked at the table of evidence.

"Yeah, well, you know what they're like – CSI Baker Street," Lestrade told Donovan, grinning a bit at his own joke as he tried to figure out what Donovan's problem was. They found the kids, there wasn't much more to it now.

"Well, our boys couldn't have done it," Donovan told Lestrade as she looked round at him again.

"Well, that's why we need them. They're better," Lestrade told Donovan who rolled her eyes slightly. Lestrade actually took a lot of pride in the work that Sherlock and Lexi did.

He had taken a chance on them when he let them start consulting for him. Lexi came just after Sherlock left after only working for him for a little bit and Lestrade had been amazed by the fact that there was this girl out there that could do what Sherlock could and when she left Sherlock came back. The two of them worked amazing on their own, but together they worked even better. They were quicker with each other, more aware of everything going on around them. The two of them were like two halves of a whole. At first Lestrade thought they were going to end up killing each other when he saw the way Sherlock reacted to learning that Lexi used to work case for them, but then he had seen them together at their first crime scene together and he knew then. They just… worked together like nothing he had even seen before. They thought the same things and knew what each other was talking about and even without speaking them seemed to know what the other was speaking. It was no surprise to Lestrade that their relationship had grown to be more than friends. Hell, he should have started a betting pool after first seeing them together. Sherlock actually looked happy with her and Lexi was happy with him. It was sweet to see the two of them together, how they were always next to each other and had some sort of bodily contact with one another. They just sort of worked as if there wasn't a Sherlock without a Lexi and they were a lot better together than they were when they were apart both with consulting and with their general lives.

"That's one explanation," Donovan told Lestrade, pulling him out of his thoughts and Lestrade looked round to her as she gazed down at the evidence again.

"And what's the other?" Lestrade asked her, raising his eyebrows as he waited to hear what her theory was.

Back in the cab, Moriarty's image continued to smile at the two detectives from the TV screen.

"Sir Boast-a-lot was the bravest and cleverest knight at the Round Table and Lady Fanfaronade was the noblest and smartest female knight at his side, but soon the other knights began to grow tired of their stories about how brave he was or how smart she was and how many dragons they'd slain ...," Moriarty said and behind him, the pale blue sky got darker and the white clouds became grey and threatening. "And soon they began to wonder ...," Moriarty said as behind him, rain began to pour from the clouds. "'Are Sir Boast-a-lot and Lady Fanfaronade's stories even true?'" Moriarty asked pulling a shocked face. Lexi growled again and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to her to see that she looked like a thunder cloud. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously at the screen and she looked murderous. "Oh, no," Moriarty said, looking down as he shook his head as if in despair.

At Scotland Yard, Donovan was beginning to wonder if Sherlock and Lexi were right.

"Only they could have found that evidence," Donovan told Lestrade as she tried to get him to see that his perfect little detectives were not as perfect as he thought. "And then the girl screams her head off when she sees them – a man and a woman she has never seen before ... unless she had seen him before," Donovan told Lestrade, talking with her hands.

"Wh-what's your point?" Lestrade asked Donovan, shaking his head slightly as he looked at her in confusion.

"You know what my point is. You just don't wanna think about it," Donovan told him, shaking her head at him as she gave him a pointed look and Lestrade's jaw tightened as he listened to her.

Back in the cab, Moriarty continued with his story.

"So one of the knights went to King Arthur and said ..." Moriarty said before dropping his voice into a dramatic whisper. "...'I don't believe Sir Boast-a-lot and Lady Fanfaronade's stories. They're just big old liars who makes things up to make themselves look good.'"

At Scotland Yard, Anderson had now come in and he and Donovan stood opposite Lestrade's desk as Lestrade sat talking with them.

"You're not seriously suggesting they're involved, are you?" Lestrade asked them, wanting it officially stated for the record rather than dancing around the subject.

"I think we have to entertain the possibility," Anderson told him and Lestrade started at him in bewilderment as in the cab Moriarty continued.

"And then even the King began to wonder ...," Moriarty said and he frowned, raising a finger to his mouth and gazed off to the side with a thoughtful look on his face.

At Scotland Yard, Greg sank his face into his hand as he was forced to consider what his officers were telling him. On the taxi TV screen in the cab, Moriarty frowned thoughtfully as cartoon lightning bolts shot out of the clouds behind him.

"But that wasn't the end of Sir Boast-a-lot and Lady Fanfaronade's problems. No," Moriarty said, continually shaking his head. He looked down for a moment, then raised his eyes to the camera again, looking directly at them "That wasn't the final problem," Moriarty said and Sherlock bared his teeth at the screen as the camera pulled back to show Moriarty sitting with a storybook held in his hands. He looked up at the camera and finished in an even more sing-song voice. "The End," Moriarty said and Lexi swore in Russian as behind Moriarty, a red velvet curtain dropped down as if covering a theatre stage. The shot changed to an extreme close-up of Moriarty grinning hugely and showing his teeth, then the screen fritzed a few times and eventually returned to the jewellery advert.

"Stop the cab! Stop the cab!" Sherlock shouted at the driver and the cab began to pull up near the curb. "What was that?" Sherlock asked frantically as Lexi scrambled out of the cab quickly, Sherlock jumping our right after her through the right-hand door before they both ran forward to the driver's door. "What was that?" Sherlock demanded again as the cabbie, wearing a cloth cap very reminiscent of the one worn by the cabbie during their first case, turned his head towards Sherlock and Lexi and revealed that he was Jim Moriarty, who adopted a London accent as he spoke.

"No charge," Moriarty told him just as Lexi's fist shot out and she punched him right in the face in an immediate reaction to seeing him. Moriarty then immediately accelerate away as Sherlock tried to grab hold of the door and pull the cab back. Forced to let go, he and Lexi chased after the taxi but it soon speed away. They both stopped in the middle of the road, glaring after it and unaware that another car was speeding along behind them. As it sounded its horn in warning, a man hurried off the pavement, grabbed the both of them, and pulled them out of danger.

"Look out!" The man shouted and not yet fully realizing what the man is doing and his thoughts entirely transfixed on protecting Lexi, Sherlock immediately moved to punch him but then stopped as the car roared past and he realized what had happened. He and Lexi stood, Sherlock holding the man at arm's length, the both of them breathing heavily while the man looked warily at them. Lexi frowned as she looked up at the man.

"Thank you," Sherlock said, catching his breath and Lexi nodded, not yet finding her own. Sherlock held out his hand for the man to shake at the point when Lexi caught her breath.

"Sulejmani," Lexi said just as the man reluctantly took Sherlock's hand and the man's eyes flicked to Lexi in surprise just before three bullets were fired into him in quick succession from somewhere behind Sherlock and Lexi. The two detectives reeled back and Lexi let out a cry of surprise as the man slumped to the ground. Sherlock spun around quickly, pulling Lexi tightly to him first and wrapping his body around hers to protect her before he tried to find the source of the gunfire. Just then another black cab came around the corner and pulled up a short distance away. John jumped out of the cab and hurried towards them.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" John shouted as Sherlock continued to hold Lexi closely to him as she turned her head and looked directly in the direction of where the gunfire came from.

Sometime later Sherlock and Lexi stood next to each other, Sherlock no longer holding Lexi protectively to him, but she still remained so close to him that the side of her body was pressed up along his. He twitched his fingers fretfully on Lexi's hip, one arm wrapped around her waist, while an ambulance crew wheeled Sulejmani's body away.

"That ... it's him. It's him. Sulejmani or something," John told them quickly and Sherlock looked at John in confusion over how he knew this and his fingers stopped twitching.

"Sulejmani," Lexi confirmed and the army doctor looked at her in surprise as Sherlock also realized that she had said his name before he was shot.

"How do you know? Mycroft and Joanna showed me his file today. He's a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us," John said, looking round at Lexi who cleared her throat before she took a deep breath.

"Yeah, someone moved two doors down from us and I checked them out. I didn't need Joanna to do my own digging. The last few months I've been watching everyone around us very closely," Lexi told him as she glanced down to her boots and John realized that she had been waiting for something like this to happen, some assassin to try and approach them in the street which was why she never went anywhere without a weapon and why John now realized she studied everyone and seemed to notice more.

"He died because I shook his hand," Sherlock said and John looked round at him sharply.

"What d'you mean?" John asked him in confusion, not sure how shaking someone's hand got you killed.

"He saved our lives but he couldn't touch us. Why?" Sherlock asked John before he looked down at Lexi and she nodded, Sherlock grabbing her hand before they both stormed off and John hurriedly followed after him. And so began the night before the Fall. It began with death, but how would it end?


	81. On The Side Of The Angels

**(A/N) The case is about to start moving really fast from here so hold on to your seats and try to keep up because things are about to get hairy or Harry or Harry Potter…no sorry, that doesn't work, ignore all that. *shoves it out of sight* Also, lots of Lexi comebacks. Don't ask me how I come up with this stuff because even I have no clue anymore. Currently I think the sugar is playing a role in that and maybe the three cups of tea… so! We're cracking down to the final moments. Only a bit longer until the Fall, two more chapters, but how will the rest of the case pan out for our detectives? As it is Saturday we have the next chapter, Tuesday we have the Fall. Wednesday, my Birthday we get Many Happy Returns as a gift and the one shot Good Morning Mrs. Holmes, and Thursday we begin with The Empty Hearse which I had so much fun writing so...Stay tuned, cross your fingers, grab the salt, text Sherlock, and don't blink! Allons-y! –Melody Morrison**

**Guest: Some people are actually virgins at that age. Sherlock is in the story and he is 34. I would think Lexi wouldn't give up her virginity to just any one. She didn't date. It wasn't a problem for her and work always came first. Romantic relationships just were never her thing until she met Sherlock and the same holds true for him. Realistically you can be any age and still be a virgin, even in your thirties. It's a choice. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventy Nine- On The Side Of The Angels<strong>

**Third Person POV**

"Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn't come here to kill us; they have to keep Lexi and me alive," Sherlock said as he walked rapidly into the living room, Lexi right behind him and taking the stairs just as quickly as he was. The two detectives pulled their scarves and coats off as they walked across the room to the laptop on the table. Sherlock sat down at the table after he and Lexi dumped their coats and scarves on one of the dining chairs beside the table. Lexi stood behind Sherlock as John went over to the window near the both of them and looked out. ** "**We've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches us ...," Sherlock said before trailing off.

"... the others kill them before they can get it," John finished for him and Sherlock grunted in agreement and typed rapidly on the laptop, navigating away from the website for St Aldate's School which he had been looking at earlier with Lexi and calling up a list of local Wi-Fi networks. There were five of them and he checked their signal strength and the names of the networks, each of which is in a foreign language as Lexi read over his shoulder.

"Russian, Czech, Estonian, Albanian, and then there is ours which is in Spanish because of that time I was on a kick and only spoke Spanish for two days," Lexi said, reading the Wi-Fi names quickly and picking out the languages as she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"All of the attention is focussed on us. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now," Sherlock said as he stared at the laptop after recieiving Lexi's analysis of the countries of origin those that were surveillancing them were from.

"So what have you two got that's so important?" John asked them as he turned back to look at them.

"Probably a lot of things actually, question is which one?" Lexi asked them as Sherlock gazed into the distance and thought for a moment before he ran his finger along the table beside the computer and lifted, looking at his fingertip.

"We need to ask about the dusting," Sherlock told them and then he called for Mrs. Hudson. Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Hudson had been dragged upstairs in her nightdress and dressing gown, Lexi having gone to retrieve her from her flat. Sherlock was hurrying around the room checking for dust on all the furniture. "Precise details, in the last week, what's been cleaned?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as he walked from the couch over to the door for the kitchen quickly, having finished his inspection of the dust around the couch. Lexi closed her eyes and started to go through a mental picture of the flat, comparing it with how the flat currently looked as she attempted to spot the difference.

"Well, Tuesday I did your lino ...," Mrs. Hudson started but Sherlock cut her off quickly as he ran his fingers along the door to the kitchen.

"No, in here, this room. This is where we'll find it – any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust," Sherlock said as he lifted his hand from the latest piece of furniture that he had been running his finger along, and twirled his finger dramatically in the air. "Dust is eloquent," Sherlock finished and Lexi sighed and shook her head at him fondly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"And covering nearly every inch of our flat because you won't let me touch it for that reason," Lexi said and Sherlock looked round at her and raised his eyebrow slight before they bother smirked at each other. She uncrossed her arms and shook her head at him one more time, chuckling slightly before she started checking the dust on the furniture with him. Mrs. Hudson looked over her shoulder at John in confusion.

"What are they on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked John quietly and John shook his head and mumbled incoherently because not even he had a clue anymore. Sherlock started to climb on the furniture to look more closely at the top shelves of the bookcase to the left of the fireplace and Lexi huffed slightly about this and muttered something about cleaning.

"Cameras. We're being watched," Sherlock said as he climbed up the book case and Lexi shook her head and but her hand over he face before she ran them through her hair.

"Bloody Hell. I bet it was the Russian," Lexi said and Sherlock looked round at her once, smirking, before he went back to her work, Lexi rolling her eyes in exasperation, more for having not found them already than over the fact that the cameras were there at all. .

"What? Cameras?" Mrs. Hudson asked them and she cringed. "Here? I'm in my nightie!" She cried as the doorbell rang and she hurried out of the room, John following her. Sherlock climbed down and checked in the eye sockets of the skull as well as around Angus on the mantelpiece before climbing onto small tables on the other side of the fireplace to look at the bookshelves there. Checking the books on the top shelf Lexi suddenly cleared her throat and Sherlock turned round to see her pointing at the far right on the top shelf. Sherlock noticed that there was more movement around the last book than there ought to be and he pushed the book deeper into the shelf, revealing a camera stuck on the side of the bookshelf. As he reached up to remove it, Lestrade walked into the room followed by John.

"No, Inspector," Sherlock said without turning around, still concentrating on removing the camera. Lexi turned around to Lestrade, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression unreadable.

"What?" Lestrade asked them in confusion as Sherlock stepped down with the camera in hand.

"Our answer is no," Lexi told Lestrade as John looked at the camera in Sherlock's hand in shock. They had been being watched and for how long?!

"But you haven't heard the question!" Lestrade said as Sherlock turned around, Lexi raising her eyebrow at the D.I.

"And when have we ever needed to?" Lexi asked Lestrade and John got the sense that Lexi was not in a good mood with the D.I. when she pursed her lips at him. Something was going on here that he wasn't quiet in on.

"You want to take us to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking," Sherlock said as he walked closer and stood near Lexi, transferring the camera to his other hand so that he could place his hand on the small of her back. Sherlock rubbed small circles onto her back but the tension in her frame did not lessen in the slightest. Lestrade pulled in a deep breath as he looked back at them/

"Lexi, Sherlock ...," Lestrade started before Sherlock interrupted him.

"The scream?" Sherlock asked him and Lestrade answered in affirmation. "Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan," Sherlock asked Lestrade and Lexi rolled her eyes before opening her mouth and sticking her tongue on her teeth as she smiled bitterly and shook her head.

"Of course it was Donovan. She's our biggest fan after all. I bet she didn't even wait five minutes after we left and I'm guessing that Anderson was all too willing to back her up," Lexi said and Lestrade looked at her, shifting uncomfortably as she hit the nail on the head. The Lexi currently standing in front of him he had never seen before, there was angry Lexi and then there was Angry Lexi and currently she was Angry with a large capital letter.

"Are we somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart. He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're going to have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home ...," Sherlock said and he reached forward and briefly places his index fingertip on Lestrade's forehead between his eyes "...there," Sherlock finished as he dropped his hand and put it back on the small of Lexi's back.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked the two of them as Lexi chewed on her bottom lip, something else she didn't normally do.

"One photograph – that's his next move. Moriarty's game, first the scream, then a photograph of us being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy us inch by inch," Sherlock said as he and Lexi turned and walked away, Sherlock sitting down at the laptop and beginning to type as Lexi stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders.

"In other words, not gonna happen," Lexi told Lestrade as Sherlock picked up the camera and looked at it for a moment before he raised his eyes to Lestrade's, Lexi staring at the D.I. behind him with a stony expression. It was the first time Lestrade ever had that look directed at him and he didn't like it because he never could tell what Lexi was thinking. She was unpredictable.

"It is a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play," Sherlock told the D.I. raising his eyebrows as he looked at the man pointedly and Lexi squeezed his shoulders. Sherlock was feeling the same thing as she was, betrayal. Lestrade was the one person who always believed them but now, even he was believing the lie instead of the truth. Even he was listening to Moriarty.

"I've played the game before," Lexi told Lestrade as she laughed bitterly. "Never again," Lexi said as Sherlock flicked his gaze up to her and Sherlock nodded at her so slightly that it was missed by the D.I. and John.

"Give our regards to Sergeant Donovan," Sherlock told Lestrade as the two detectives looked away from him with a note of finality.

Sighing and exchanging a brief look with John, Lestrade turned and headed off down the stairs. John watched him go with a 'Yeah, definitely would look on his face, especially after recalling the look Lexi had just been shooting at the D.I., then he turned back towards Sherlock and Lexi, Sherlock now having linked the camera into the computer so that he could pull up the footage on the computer screen. Downstairs, Lestrade walked along the hallway and glowered at Donovan who was waiting at the front door. He walked past her and out into the street. She turned and watched him unhappily, then followed. Upstairs, John had gone over to the right-hand window and looked out at the car parked outside as Lestrade and Donovan went over to it and got in, Lestrade glancing up towards the window momentarily. As the car started, Sherlock briefly looked at John.

"They'll be deciding," Sherlock told the army doctor as he leaned back in his chair so that Lexi could type on the laptop as she put an arm around either side of him, her cheek pressed up against his.

"Deciding?" John asked them as he looked at them for a second before looking back out the window. John was a bit surprised with how close Sherlock and Lexi were being. Generally they were rather close to one another but now it was as if they couldn't get physically close enough to one another as they tried to occupy the same space.

"They're deciding whether to come back with a warrant to arrest the two of us or not," Lexi told John flicking her gaze up at him for a brief moment before she looked back at the laptop screen and finished typing, pulling her arms back and pressing a kiss to Sherlock's cheek before she straightened up and put her hands back on his shoulders.

"You think?" John asked, turning to look at them now as Sherlock started typing on the laptop again now that Lexi had patched him through to what he needed.

"Standard procedure," Sherlock told him nonchalantly while Lexi shrugged.

"Should have gone with him. People'll think ...," John said, turning to look out the window again, trailing off and shaking his head as he couldn't finish his sentence.

"We don't care what people think," Sherlock said, not even looking up from his work.

"We never have John. People can think what they like, it doesn't make it true. We only truly live in a society when what someone thinks of you matters if we let it," Lexi said as she looked up and over at the army doctor and Sherlock tilted his head book to look up at her to find that her expression was thoughtful rather than bitter. He kissed the tops of her fingers that he could reach when he turned his head before he turned back to the laptop.

"You'd care if they thought you two were stupid, or wrong," John said, getting a bit angry at how calmly they were taking the fact that Lestrade was all but accusing them of having kidnapped two children with the intent of killing them.

"No, that would just make them stupid or wrong," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted at that and bit the inside of her cheek as she smiled.

"And also a lot of other things, but that list could go on forever," Lexi joked and John turned to the two of them angrily.

"Lexi, Sherlock, I don't want the world believing you two are ...," John said, breaking off as Sherlock lifted his head and Lexi turned to look at him. The three of them locked eyes for a long moment.

"That we're what?" Sherlock asked John, turning his head slightly to the side and raising his eyebrows at the same time Lexi did.

"Frauds," John told them and Sherlock and Lexi both rolled their eyes as Sherlock sat back in his seat.

"You're worried they're right," Sherlock told him, saying it as a statement and not as a question.

"What?" John asked him quickly in confusion.

"You're worried they're right about us," Sherlock repeated, looking away from John as Leix cast her eyes down ward as well.

"No," John told them quickly and he shook his head. Lexi snapped her head up and looked at him her eyes slightly watery as she gazed at him intensely.

"Yes, John, you are. Don't lie…," Lexi said her voice fierce as she gave John a gut wrenching look. "…not to me," She finished before she looked away from him again, Sherlock flicking his gaze up to her. He lifted his hand and rubbed her cheek for a moment as they shared a look before Sherlock dropped his hand from her face.

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well," Sherlock said as Lexi hugged Sherlock around the neck from behind.

"No I'm not," John told them, turning away and looking out of the window again as Sherlock leaned forward with Lexi.

"Moriarty is playing with your mind too," Sherlock said before he furiously slammed his hand onto the table. "Can't you see what's going on?" Sherlock shouted at John as John looked at him and Lexi for a few seconds, the Irish girl flicking her gaze up to him, her head still resting on to of Sherlock as she was completely unfazed by his shouting. John broke eye contact with her and looked out of the window again.

"No, I know you two are for real," John told them in almost a whisper as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"A hundred percent?" Sherlock asked him as he looked down at the laptop keyboard.

"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick or an insufferable know-it-all all the time," John told them quietly, turning back towards them. Sherlock and Lexi locked eyes with him again, then Sherlock's mouth twitched with the trace of a smile.

"Well we do try," Lexi told John, smirking as well and John looked away from them again.

Back at Scotland Yard Greg was now sitting in front of the desk of the Chief Superintendent while Donovan and Anderson stood nearby listening to them. The Chief walked around his desk to sit down behind it.

"Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna?" The Chief asked for clarification.

"Yes, sir," Lestrade told him, eyeing the man nervously.

"That bloke and the bird who've been in the press," The Chief asked him as he sat down behind his desk and Lestrade hummed in affirmation. "I thought they were some sort of private eyes," The Chief said as he looked across his desk at Lestrade. "We've been consulting with them – that's what you're ... you're telling me?" The Chief asked him and Greg nodded at him again. "Not used them on any proper cases, though, have we?" The Chief asked Lestrade raising his eyebrow in a dangerous manner.

"Well, one or two," Lestrade lied and Anderson, his arms folded and looking down at his feet, snorted quietly.

"Or twenty or thirty," Anderson corrected quietly and Lestrade knew he was done for now.

"What?" The Chief asked him in disbelief as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Look, I'm not the only senior officer who did this. Gregson ...," Lestrade started before he was interrupted.

"Shut up!" The Chief told him raising a finger to silence him. "Two amateur detectives given access to all sorts of classified information, and now they're a suspect in a case!" The Chief said angrily.

"With all due respect, sir ...," Lestrade started, trying to get him to see how Sherlock and Lexi actually helped them solve most of their case, but he was interrupted again.

"You're a bloody idiot, Lestrade! Now go and fetch them in right now!" The Chief yelled at him as all of a sudden every one of their mobiles went off at once. Lestrade hesitated as the Chief ignored both the messages and him. "Do it," The Chief ordered him sternly and Lestrade stood up as the Chief reached for his mobile, all of them checking their messages now. "Be careful what you say. You never know who might be watching," The Chief read his message aloud as he looked up at Lestrade. "BSS. That mean anything to you?" The Chief asked Lestrade angrily and Lestrade nodded once.

"British Security Service," Lestrade told the Chief who looked back at him in shock before Lestrade left the room followed by Anderson and Donovan. Their text messages said the same thing but Lestrade's was different.

**_Don't worry about your job. There are people on the inside.-BSS/JR_**

Lestrade looked down at the message in confusion, not knowing anyone by the initials of JR but apparently they worked for the British Security Service. Why the British Security Service was monitoring them Lestrade had no clue, but the part about there being people on the side caught Lestrade's eye as he called Lexi having someone on the inside at the British Security Service. Inside his office the Chief Superintendent got another text message which said.

**People that live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. -BSS**

The Chief Superintendent took his glasses off and buried his head in his hand, not sure how much more of this he could take from finding out what Lestrade did to getting texts in riddles from some unknown person. Outside the others were on their way across the main office after putting their mobiles away again.

"Are you proud of yourselves?" Lestrade asked Anderson and Donovan as he walked.

"Well, what if it's not just this case? What if they've done this to us every single time?" Anderson asked him and Donovan grabbed her coat from the coat stand as she walked past it. Lestrade stopped for his own coat, then took his phone out again and started dialling after sending a quick text back to the unknown number that had contacted him.

**How much can you do to help them?**

The response came back immediately.

**Honey I run the entire government from behind a computer. Want to ask me that question again? -JR**

The answer was that simple and Lestrade almost dropped his mobile in shock, realizing that whoever this JR person was, was not some you would most likely want to cross and if they were telling the truth they might just be the most powerful man in Britain. He just texted the most powerful man in Britain. Lestrade hung back from the other two, and placed his call, raising the phone to his ear.

**Lexi's POV**

Shortly after Lestrade left Sherlock and I moved to sit in his armchair together, knowing that Lestrade would be back soon. Moriarty had planted the seed of doubt and now exactly what he wanted to happen was going to. Only thing was, Sherlock and I were not going to let Moriarty get his way. Joanna sent me a code red text and I knew that they were already on their way. Sherlock played with my hair as John stood in the centre of the living room on the phone. After a few moments he lowered his phone from his ear and switched it off. He turned round to Sherlock and me and watched us carefully.

"So, still got some friends on the Force. It's Lestrade. Says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs, every single officer you two ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people," John told us and we ignored him slightly as Mrs. Hudson knocked on the closed living room door with her customary "Ooh-ooh!" before she walked in.

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" Mrs. Hudson asked us, probably sensing the tension in the room as John watched us, his jaw clenched. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her and looked away and I snuggled up closer to him and closed my eyes as he tightened his arm around me. Mrs. Hudson turned her attention to John as Sherlock and I cuddled a bit, taking advantage of our time together because every second was precious now. "Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable' – I had to sign for it," Mrs. Hudson told us and I opened my eyes as John took the Jiffy bag from her and I noticed that there was a wax seal over the flip like all the other things that had been sent to us. "Funny name. German, like the fairytales," Mrs. Hudson continued and Sherlock and I got up and walked forward, Sherlock's eyes locked on the Jiffy bag as John opened it and started to pull out its contents. I on the other hand was watching Mrs. Hudson due to her wording, "like the fairytales." Outside, the sirens of several different vehicles were approaching and I knew that we only had a few more minutes. In John's hand was a large gingerbread man and woman but they were an unusual colour. He tilted them so that Sherlock and I could see it better.

"Burnt to a crisp," Sherlock remarked as the vehicles pulled up outside and the sirens stopped. A few seconds later the doors started to slam as people got out of the cars.

"What does it mean?" John asked us referring to the gingerbread man and woman. The doorbell rang downstairs and at the same time someone pounded on the front door knocker.

"Police!" Someone shouted as I looked at the gingerbread man and woman. Burnt, like he wanted to burn us. I don't know what was more terrifying though, the message or the thought of Moriarty baking.

"I'll go," Mrs. Hudson told us and she turned and hurried down the stairs as someone continued to knock on the door.

"Sherlock, Lexi ...," Donovan said downstairs as Sherlock and I both quickly looked at each other and shared the plan with one another.

"Evening, Mrs Hudson," Lestrade said downstairs as I nodded at Sherlock once in agreement.

"We need to talk to you!" Donovan shouted up the stairs. John put the gingerbread man and woman back into the envelope and put it on the table before heading out of the flat.

"Don't barge in like that!" Mrs. Hudson said rather angrily as people started trotting up the stairs. Sherlock and I calmly turned around and picked up our scarves and looped them around our necks in unison.

"Have you got a warrant? Have you?" John asked, apparently blocking the stairs halfway up.

"Leave it, John," Lestrade told him no doubt pushing past him.

"Really! Manners!" Mrs. Hudson shouted angrily and Sherlock helped me into my coat before he put his own on. Lestrade barged into our flat with Donovan and two four other armed officers. Lestrade stood in front of us as two officers attached hand cuffs to our left wrists.

"Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna, I'm arresting you two on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping," Lestrade said and I eyed him darkly. It was the first time he had ever called me Alexandria. John gestured towards Sherlock and I while looking at Lestrade as the officers pulled our left hands behind our backs in order to cuff our other wrists.

"They're not resisting," John told Lestrade angrily.

"It's all right, John," Sherlock told him as I turned to look at our army doctor and nodded once.

"They're not resisting. No, it's not all right. This is ridiculous," John said in exasperation and anger and I sighed heavily.

"Get them downstairs now," Lestrade told the officers who had hand cuffed us and they spun us around and marched us towards the door.

"Be careful what you do Lestrade. You never know who might be watching," I told the D.I once over my shoulder and he looked at me in shock before I turned back and let the officer led me out the door after Sherlock. I looked at Mrs. Hudson who was standing nearby almost in tears and sent her a small smile. The fun was just about to begin or at least fun for me.

**John's POV**

"You know you don't have to do ...," John told Lestrade who got in his face and pointed at him sternly.

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too," Lestrade told John before he turned and left the room. John turned to Donovan who was standing near the door.

"You done?" John asked her angrily.

"Oh, I said it," Donovan told him smugly and John hummed questioningly at her. "First time we met."

"Don't bother," John told her darkly, not wanting to hear it from her now.

""Solving crimes won't be enough. One day they'll cross the line." Now, ask yourself, what sort of man and woman would kidnap those kids just so they can impress us all by finding them?" Donovan asked him and Mrs. Hudson gasped in shock as the Chief Superintendent walked in.

"Donovan," The Chief Superintendent said as he walked in.

"Sir," Donovan greeted him with a nod.

"Got our man and woman?" The Chief asked her as his and Donovan's mobiles went off at the same time. John frowned in confusion as he looked at both of the exasperated looks on their faces.

"Er, yes, sir," Donovan told him awkwardly.

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me, the both of them," The Chief said and John turned towards him. "Often are, these vigilante types," He continued as he looked around the living room but now he turned and saw that John was staring at him. "What are you looking at?" The Chief asked him and Donovan's eyes widened and she instantly lowered her head as if she knew what was coming and couldn't bear to look. First he insulted Sherlock, but one thing you never did in front of John Watson is insult Lexi MacKenna. He pulled his arm back and let the full force of his anger out on the Chief Superintendent's face.

**Lexi's POV**

A few minutes after Sherlock and I had been brought outside, the Chief Superintendent walked out onto the street holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose.

"Are you all right, sir?" A police officer asked him as he walked by. Nearby, Sherlock and I had been leaned against the side of a police car, facing it. You know, I had never been arrested before. Something new happens all the time to us. John was slammed up against the car next to us on my right. Sherlock looked across to him with an amused expression on his face.

"Joining us?" Sherlock asked him as I smirked at John in amusement.

"Yeah. Apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent," John told us and I laughed as behind us a couple of armed officers unlocked Sherlock and my hand cuffs. They transferred the cuff on Sherlock's right hand onto my right and the cuff on my left hand onto John's right hand, linking us all together.

"Anything fun generally is illegal, just for future reference John." I told him as they were doing this. Sherlock looked over his shoulder, watching what the officers were doing and where they were standing.

"Hmm. Bit awkward, this," Sherlock remarked and I nodded once at him.

"We'll manage," I assured Sherlock, calculating out what my moves would be since I was handcuffed to both John and Sherlock. Of course, they handicapped me the most by linking me between the boys.

"Huh. No-one to bail us," John said, not yet catching on to our plan yet.

"I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape," Sherlock told John as we looked down at the radio lying on the dashboard of the car we were leaning against. The radio squealed as the dispatcher spoke.

"My way or yours?" I asked Sherlock as the radio dispatcher said, "All units to two-seven."

"Mine, yours is far too elaborate," Sherlock told me and I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him, smirking.

"Hardly, you just haven't seen it done yet," I told Sherlock as John looked round at us in confusion about what we were talking about.

"What?" John asked us as the radio dispatcher continued. "All units to two ..." I nodded once at Sherlock and he rapidly reached through the open window of the car with his free hand and pressed down on the Talk button. Instantly the two officers behind us doubled over in pain and grabbed at their earpieces when a high-pitched squeal of feedback ripped through them. Sherlock and I reached behind us and pulled the officers' pistols free, instantly raising them. This meant that my right hand got yanked upwards as well as John's right hand and he gasped in surprise at the rapid turn of events. Sherlock called out as we aimed our pistols towards the nearest officers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, will you all please get on your knees?" Sherlock shouted at them and Lestrade was standing nearby us, his whole body language saying, 'Oh, FFS ...' When nobody reacted very quickly, Sherlock raised the gun and my hand skywards and fired his gun twice. "NOW would be good!" Sherlock shouted as he lowered his gun and pointed it at the police again like I was doing.

"And I would listen because I'm an excellent shot and my morals are currently handcuffed to me and also holding a gun," I shouted across to all of them and I locked eyes with Lestrade who looked at me in surprise. "NOW!" I shouted with a commanding tone.

"Do as they say!" Lestrade called to his officers and he gestured everybody downwards and all the police started to kneel. We started to back away, keeping our guns trained on them still.

"Just-just so you're aware, the guns were their idea. I'm just a ... you know ...," John said loudly as Sherlock transferred the pistol to his right hand as I also transferred my gun to my right hand.

"He's our hostage!" I shouted as I promptly pointed my gun at John's head, Sherlock doing the same. John gasped in surprise as he looked at the both of us in shock. "Sorry John, don't listen to anything I might say next," I told the army doctor quietly, knowing that Lestrade would never buy Sherlock and I shooting John.

"Hostage! Yes, that works – that works!" John told us as we continued to back away from the kneeling police.

"And right now, I'm not against shooting someone. You could say I'm mentally unstable, but the truth is, I'm just really pissed off!" I shouted, looking at Lestrade and I could see that he believed that. We backed down the street and I noticed that a piece of artistic graffiti had been sprayed on the wall of the house on the street corner. In red paint, huge letters spelt out "iou" and were at least three feet high and were surrounded by an elaborate dark set of angel's wings. We began to back carefully around the corner, the boy having not noticed the graffiti like I had.

"So what now?" John asked us as we backed up. Well that was very simple and we were about to be very much like the Doctor and his companions.

"Doing what Moriarty wants – we're becoming fugitives. Run," Sherlock told John before he and I turned and began to race off down the road together, dragging John with is. Back at the police cars, Lestrade buried his head in his hands. The Chief Superintendent got to his feet and turned to him.

"Get after him, Lestrade!" The Chief Superintendent shouted at Lestrade as there was feedback from the dispatcher radio.

"Tick Toc goes the clock and Lexi is all the faster. Better get running boys," A women said through the dispatcher radio with a distinctive American accent, New York by the sound of it. Everyone looked up startled as they listened to the woman who had hijacked their dispatch radio. "Hope you had your Wheaties this morning!" The voice yelled gleefully before the radio cut off. Lestrade glared furiously at Donovan as she began to head in the direction the trio had gone. Lestrade was a lot slower to get moving, smirking slightly before he realized that the voice was a woman with the same cadence as JR's text messages. The most powerful person in all of Britain was a woman who wasn't even British! Oh, everything was going mad now. Around the corner as trio ran along side by side, Sherlock looped the loose chain between his and Lexi's handcuffs around his wrist and took her hand in his before Lexi did the same with hers and John's.

"Take my hand John," I told John and he grabbed my hand in his as we raced onwards.

"Now people will definitely talk," John told us and I laughed, throwing back my head in delight. Oh, running from the police, this was the most fun I had in a while.

"They were already talking John!" I shouted to him with a laugh, sirens approaching the junction ahead of us. Sherlock and I swerved to our left and dropped the pistols in the process. They clattered to the ground and we left them there.

"The guns!" John shouted and I shook my head.

"Leave them!" Sherlock shouted back as I shoved John down a side alley as the police car raced straight across the junction. We ran down the alleyway and reached high railings blocking our way. Sherlock and I quickly coordinated and leapt up onto the top of a dustbin and vaulted straight over the top of the railings one right after the other so that we were moving together. John, being an adorable short-arse and also not as close to the dustbin as we were though I would never tell John what I called him in my head, was left behind; his right hand was dragged upwards and his face almost smashed against the railings as Sherlock and I dropped to the other side.

"Sherlock, Lexi wait!" John shouted as he reached through the railings with his free hand and grabbed Sherlock's coat, dragging him closer and glaring into his face. I let out a sound of surprise when I was dragged forward as well and I had to stand on tiptoes as my arm was dragged over the top of the railing.

"We're going to need to coordinate," John told us sternly and I huffed as I breathed out. Sherlock quickly scanned around us, but I was the one to come up with a plan.

"Oi, Sherlock, bend down, John you find a way to get on the dust bin," I told the boys who both looked at me in surprise.

"What?" Sherlock asked me and I huffed in frustration as John listened to me and got on the dustbin, kneeling on it to give him some height. He couldn't exactly climb over yet though because our handcuffs were tangled up.

"Bend down," I told Sherlock and he did as I said. "And don't get any ideas," I told him as I did the only thing I could think of. I threw my legs over Sherlock's shoulders so that I was sitting on them. "Now stand up," I told Sherlock as he grabbed my leg to steady me with his hand and did as I asked. This allowed me to be a bit higher and give John more slack with the handcuffs over the top of the spikes in the railing so we weren't pulling on each other's wrists now. "Now you climb over," I directed John and he nodded and did as I asked he dropped down on the other side and I coordinated the both of them again. "Now both of you bend down," I told them and they did as I asked and I hopped off of Sherlock's shoulders, my arms getting tangled up. I turned Sherlock around so that we were all in a perfect chain again. "And that is the way we do it boys," I told them, nodding my head as I took both of their hands again and we started running down the alley again. Reaching a T-junction Sherlock and I turned to the right, then immediately broke and ducked back again as a sirening police car raced past the end of the alley. The three of us leaned side by side against the wall catching our breath for a moment.

"Everybody wants to believe it – that's what makes it so clever," Sherlock said, looking at John. "A lie that's preferable to the truth," Sherlock continued, looking away from John, his voice bitter. "All our brilliant deductions were just a sham. No-one feels inadequate – Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna are just ordinary people."

"What about Mycroft? He could help us," John told us and he grunted as Sherlock and I dragged him across to the other side of the alley and peered down the left arm of the T-junction.

"A big family reconciliation? Now's not really the moment," Sherlock told him as he spun around dragging John and I in a circle behind him, looking back the way we came.

"Joanna is helping us though. She's redirect them for a while. I know her. Once we lose them they'll have a hard time finding us," I told John as the army doctor spotted something at the end of the right arm of the T-junction.

"Sher... Sherlock, Lexi," John told us and he elbowed me with his cuffed arms to turn me in that direction. I grumbled but then saw a face peering around the corner at the end of the alley and I elbowed Sherlock so he turned and looked into the alley as well. "We're being followed. I knew we couldn't outrun the police."

"That's not the police. It's one of our new neighbours from Baker Street. Let's see if he can give us some answers," Sherlock told us before he broke in the opposite direction from where the man was watching us. Running to the next corner, we flattened ourselves against the wall as we reached it and Sherlock and I looked around the corner. There was no sign of any police in the street but a double decker bus, the number 74 to Baker Street Station, was approaching. Sherlock and I pressed ourselves back against the wall again.

"Where are we going?" John asked us as I saw the plan forming in Sherlock's mind. It was mad and I loved it.

"We're going to jump in front of that bus," Sherlock told us and I laughed, throwing my head back and resting it up against the wall behind us.

"What?!" John asked us in shock but Sherlock and I were already on the move and we dragged John with us out into the street. The assassin raced after us. Halfway across the road, Sherlock and I screeched to a halt directly in front of the approaching bus. John's impetus carried him past Sherlock and I before he was able to stop and turn and now we were all facing the bus and not moving. The assassin charged into the road, threw himself at us, and shoved us out of the way and all four of us tumbled to the ground as the bus drove past, its horn blaring. Before the assassin could recover, Sherlock sat up and dragged the man's own gun from his jeans, then cocked, and pointed it at him.

"Tell me what you want from us," Sherlock demand and the man stared at him and I wide-eyed but didn't speak. Sherlock moved the gun's muzzle closer to him "Tell me," He demanded again.

"He left it at your flat," The assassin told us, looking between Sherlock and I.

"Who?" Sherlock asked the assassin.

"Moriarty," The assassin and I said in unison and the assassin nodded at me as I raised my eyebrows while spitting my hair out of my face. I was going to kill Lestrade later.

"What?" Sherlock asked the assassin as the four of us started to get to our feet, Sherlock still holding the gun on him.

"The computer keycode," The assassin told us and I made a sound of agreement.

"Of course. He's selling it – the programme he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around," Sherlock said right before the gunshots rang out and the assassin reeled and dropped to the ground. Sherlock and I stared up in the direction the bullets came from, then we swung around and the three of us raced off. As police sirens approached again we ducked into an open doorway and yet another police car drove past the end of the road. We took a moment to catch our breath again, John still looking a bit shocked after the assassin got shot in front of us. "It's a game-changer. It's a key – it can break into any system and it's sitting in our flat right now. That's why he left that message telling everyone where to come. "Get Sherlock and Lexi." We need to get back into the flat and search."

"CID'll be camped out. Why plant it on you two?" John asked us and I frowned thoughtfully. Why plant it on us, what was the point of that. Yeah, it could all be part of his plan to make us out a frauds, but it had to have a deeper purpose as well.

"It's another subtle way of smearing our names. Now we're best pals with all those criminals," Sherlock said as John spotted a pile of newspapers nearby and picked up the top copy.

"Yeah, well, have you seen this?" John asked us. It was a copy of "The Sun" telling of the upcoming exposé by Kitty Riley. "A kiss and tell. Some bloke called Rich Brook," John told us as I read the paper and Sherlock slowly turned his head as I looked up at John, the name translating to something. Richard Brook in German was Reichenbach. Moriarty thought he was being funny. "Who is he?" John asked us and I raised my eyebrow at that.

"No idea, but I'd like to know who this "close" friend I apparently seem to have is," I told John before I turned to Sherlock. "Can you get my mobile out for me, inner coat pocket," I asked him and he cleared his throat awkwardly before he did as I asked. Once I had my mobile out I had Sherlock ring Joanna for me and hold the phone to my ear since he had the free hand. "Joanna, can you get me an address for a Kitty Riley. I think it's time we paid her a visit," I told Joanna as I threw a look at the boys. Oh, things were about to get really interesting.

**Third Person POV**

Kitty Riley parked her car outside her home, got out, and locked the car before walking to the front door. Opening it, she walked along the hall to the door of her flat, then paused and looked at the door nervously when she realized that it was slightly ajar. Hesitantly she pushed the door open and reached for the light switch on the wall. The lights came on and she was greeted with the sight of Sherlock and John sitting side by side on her sofa, Lexi sitting half on Sherlock's lap and half on John's, each of them drumming the fingers of their handcuffed hands on their respective knees.

"Too late to go on the record?" Sherlock asked Kitty as Lexi glared at her and raised her eyebrow.

"Hello Ms. Riley," Lexi said in the most ominous way imaginable and Sherlock and John both turned to look at her at the same time. "I think it's time we had a nice little chat," Lexi said pleasantly as she smiled. "Sit!" Lexi ordered and Kitty raced to do as she was told. There was something about Lexi MacKenna that the blog didn't mention. She was rather terrifying when she wanted to be.


	82. You Repel Me

**And the Fall happens on Tuesday. I know I end this on a cliffy. But you get Many Happy Returns on Wednesday, my birthday, and the start of the new case on Thursday. I am working on the next chapter for Goldfish but it shan't be finished until I get the Cabin Pressure one shot finished which I am hoping to finish tomorrow so maybe Monday? Maybe? And then another few prompts this week to make up for the lack of them alright.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty- You Repel Me<strong>

**Third Person POV**

Not long afterwards, Kitty was sitting in an armchair while the boys and Lexi stood in the middle of the room. Sherlock was using a hairpin to pick the lock on his handcuff as Lexi stared Kitty down, the woman shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. Since Kitty had entered her flat, Sherlock noticed that Lexi had become rather tense and he knew that once he managed to get this blasted handcuff off he could comfort her. She seemed rather fine to all who didn't know that she didn't like feeling so helpless which she currently was with both her hands joined to him and John.

"Congratulations. The truth about Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna," Sherlock said as he freed his hand and gave the hairpin to Lexi, knowing she could get herself out faster than he could. He started to pace back and forth in front of Kitty as Lexi made quick work of the handcuff that linked her to John. "The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo!" Sherlock told her sarcastically as Lexi got free and stowed the handcuffs in her pocket. She moved closer to Sherlock then and he saw her relax slight as she stood nearer to him.

"Doesn't matter if none of it is true so long as it sells right?" Lexi asked Kitty, raising her eyebrow at the woman who looked back at her looking unfazed by Lexi's dangerous tone of voice.

"I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so ...," Kitty told him as she turned her head, watching Sherlock warily as he paced in front of her though Sherlock noted that her gaze flicked to Lexi more often than it followed him. Clever girl.

"And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" Sherlock demanded of her and Kitty shook her head, her earrings clanking as she did so, refusing to tell them any more about the man. "Oh, come on, Kitty. No-one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone," Sherlock said as Lexi crossed her arms in front of her self.

"Besides, he is supposed to be our closest friend. Are you actually that stupid? We tell you we have no idea who he is and you don't even find that a bit odd?" Lexi asked the woman angrily and Sherlock looked to her, realizing exactly what she was getting at. Lexi always was one step ahead, asking all the right questions. "Because I can get you definitive proof that we've never met him before and it wouldn't be that hard to get. Actually it would just be a phone call away," Lexi told Kitty as she took out her mobile, the woman losing her calm composure for only a second before she regained it. She shook her head again, but refused to answer Lexi's questions.

"There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés; those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets," Sherlock said before he looked at her sternly. "What were his credentials?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi raised her eyebrow again. Lexi had seen it immediately and pointed it out. They could find proof that they had no clue who he was and why would she listen to him unless he had spun some rather marvellous story. All stories had holes to them though. You just had to be smart enough to find them yourself.

Outside in the hallway there were sounds of someone coming in through the main front door. Now Kitty looked towards the door of the flat and rose to her feet with a concerned look on her face when someone pushes her door open. Sherlock turned to follow her gaze as Jim Moriarty, unshaven and with his hair messy and wearing casual clothes including a cardigan, walked in with a shopping bag. Along with his unshaven face and messy hair he had a faint bruise forming on his cheek. Lexi immediately reacted beside Sherlock, growing tense and going on the defensive, her eyes quickly scanning to flat for anything that could be used as a weapon.

"Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal ...," Moriarty said and he raised his eyes and stared in terror at the sight of Sherlock and Lexi, whose own eyes widened in surprise. Moriarty dropped the shopping bag and backed away until he bumped into the wall behind him, holding his hands up protectively in front of him. "You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here," Moriarty said, his voice trembling as he acted perfectly.

"You are safe, Richard. I'm a witness. They wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses," Kitty said, sounding completely sure of herself and Lexi let out a loud chuckle that had Moriarty and Kitty both looking at her instantly as Sherlock and John flicked their gazes to her as well. The laugh had been cold and very chilling.

"Do you really want to bet on that? Because homicide is sort of my specialty and witnesses are easily taken care of," Lexi said and Kitty looked properly scared like she should be, Moriarty taking an extra step back and looking at Lexi in a terrified manner. John pointed at Moriarty, his face full of shock.

"So that's your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?!" John asked kitty, his teeth bared as he glared at Moriarty, breathing heavily in pure fury.

"Of course he's Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been," Kitty told him, shaking her head and Lexi laughed again, sounding slightly amused instead of cold this time.

"Oh God you are actually that stupid," Lexi remarked as John quickly turned his head slightly to throw a look at Kitty.

"What are you talking about?" John asked her angrily.

"Look him up. Rich Brook – an actor Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna hired to be Moriarty," Kitty answered John as Sherlock and Lexi stared at Moriarty who was still holding his hands up and looking at everyone nervously.

"Doctor Watson, I know you're a good man," Moriarty said, his voice shaking as he backed into the corner of the room, appearing terrified under John's ferocious glare and Lexi's murderous gaze. "Don't ... don't h... Don't hurt me," Moriarty pleaded and Lexi snorted loudly.

"No, you are Moriarty!" John screamed at him, pointing at him furiously before he turned his head briefly and yelled at Kitty. "He's Moriarty!" John shouted and he turned back to Jim. "We've met, remember? You were gonna blow me up!" John shouted at him and Moriarty put his hands briefly over his face, then held them up in front of himself again, sounding as if he was almost crying in fear when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Moriarty said as he gestured towards Sherlock and Lexi. "They paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, okay?" Moriarty asked him and breathing heavily, John turned to Sherlock and Lexi.

"Sherlock, Lexi you'd better ... explain ... because I am not getting this," John told them and Lexi went to speak but Kitty started before she could.

"Oh I'll ... I'll be doing the explaining – in print," Kitty said, her voice faltering a bit under Lexi's hard gaze before she seemed to gain her confidence back and handed John a folder.  
>"It's all here – conclusive proof," Kitty continued as John looked at an early typed sheet of her upcoming article, then turned to the proof copy showing the layout of how it would appear in the newspaper, with spaces left for photographs. The headline read, "Sherlock and Lexi are fakes!" with the strapline, "They invented all the crimes". "You two invented James Moriarty, your nemesis," Kitty told Sherlock and Lexi as she turned to look at them.<p>

"Invented him?" John asked her, upset, and she hummed in agreement,

"Mmm-hmm. Invented all the crimes, actually – and to cap it all, you two made up a master villain," Kitty said and Lexi chuckled again in that cold manner.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" John shouted at Kitty who turned and pointed towards Moriarty.

"Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard," Kitty said and Lexi narrowed her eyes dangerously at the woman. She still hadn't moved towards Moriarty once, but John could see that she was planning to at some point in this conversation.

"Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!" John shouted furiously at Kitty.

"Yes ...," Kitty said and she pointed at Sherlock and Lexi. "...and you two paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury," Kitty accused them as Sherlock and Lexi stared at her silently. "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good," Kitty said and she walked over to Jim and put her arm around his shoulders while he stood with his hands still held out in front of himself. "But not so good he didn't want to sell his story," Kitty said and Jim looked plaintively at John, putting his hands together pleadingly.

"I am sorry. I am. I am sorry," Moriarty told him and Lexi snorted loudly and rolled her eyes.

"So-so this is the story that you're gonna publish. The big conclusion of it all, Moriarty's an actor?!" John asked Kitty in exasperation before he shook his head in disbelief.

"They know I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty! Show him something!" Jim pleaded with Kitty and John nodded once.

"Yeah, show me something," John demanded and Kitty walked across the room. John turned to watch her as she reached into a bag for more information.

Behind them, Moriarty had put his hands over his face but now he pulled his hands away from his eyes a little and looked towards Sherlock and Lexi, whose own gazes had barely left him since he arrived. For a brief moment, Moriarty revealed his true self and he smiled triumphantly at his enemies. Sherlock half-smiled back at him but there was no humour in his eyes. Lexi on the other had narrowed her eyes and sent a dangerous smirk at Moriarty which actually made his smile falter ever so slightly. Sherlock had noticed her entire change in posture as soon as Moriarty stepped into the room. She was no longer tense, she was defensive and standing with her feet firmly planted as if she was ready to spring at any moment. The way she watched Moriarty was in an almost predatory manner and she never once took her eyes off of him as she watched him closely. This was the side of Lexi who had training and Sherlock was sure that if she really wanted to she could hurt him and Moriarty knew that too. Kitty took out a folder, walked over to John, and gave it to him as all of this was occurring at once.

"I'm on TV. I'm on kids' TV. I'm The Storyteller," Moriarty said, slipping back into his Richard persona and sounding plaintive and panicked. John looked at copies of Richard Brook's contact details apparently taken from an agency website, then a newspaper article showing a picture of Richard in glasses wearing medical scrubs and with a stethoscope around his neck. The article was headlined, "Award Winning Actor Joins the Cast of Top Medical Drama". "I'm ... I'm The Storyteller. It's on DVD," Moriarty said, looking across at Sherlock and Lexi again, this time keeping his Richard face on. John continued looking through the folder at other publicity stills of Rich together with his CV. That was when Lexi started laughing uncontrollably and everyone snapped their heads around to her quickly as she stared Moriarty down.

"Do tell me Jim, was this before or after I got started in Dublin or did you not go that far back?" Lexi asked him her Irish accent extremely thick now and Sherlock realized that very little of this plan did make sense when it came to Lexi being involved as if they were stretching to include her. Lexi turned to look at Kitty with a glare. "Did I hire him then too, when I met Moriarty for the first time when I had him arrested on petty theft charges?" Lexi asked Kitty whose confident expression faltered and she looked slightly worried. "Ah forgot that part have you or were you just not told? Slipped your mind did it Jim? Did I create all those crimes too? There are large holes in your story Ms. Riley. Like how did Sherlock and I both know Richard and hire him before we ever met. The first time I met Sherlock Holmes was on a plane from Dublin to London when I moved here eight years ago, a fact only he and I know about. I didn't officially meet him until about eighteen months ago so during which point in time did we both meet and seemingly decide to hire an out of work actor to act as our nemesis? And why would I have him also strap Semtex to me and break my ribs. 'Cos I don't think that part was acting. Those were real injuries. If I was smart, really smart and I am really smart, brilliant in fact, my plans would make out so I'm not the one getting hurt. See that's the problem Ms. Riley. You know an awful lot about Sherlock but hardly anything about me which means you've had to fabricate far too much and anyone with a bit of a brain could see the inconsistencies in your story," Lexi finished, her eyes dangerous. Sherlock wished to reach out and touch her to comfort her but he knew that he should not with Moriarty in their presence. They had to keep their affections far from his sight.

Moriarty gestured towards John, looking at Sherlock and Lexi pleadingly as the army doctor digested everything Lexi had just said. "Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over," Moriarty said his voice becoming more frantic as he tried to carry on the ruse further. Sherlock noted just a slight bit of urgency in the way he spoke. Lexi was right and that was the problem for him. "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell them!" Moriarty shouted and baring his teeth, Sherlock started to walk towards him, Lexi stalking dangerously after him and glaring at Moriarty in a way that was promising bodily harm. "It's all over now ... NO!" Moriarty shouted as he backed away from Sherlock and Lexi and up a short flight of stairs towards the bedroom on the upper level of the flat. His eyes were wide and terrified. "Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!" Moriarty shouted at them and Lexi laughed coldly.

"I'll lay more than just a finger on you. You have a lovely bruise already in the shape of my fist. Would you care for a matching set Jim?" Lexi asked Moriarty who let out a terrified shriek as he cowered away from her and Lexi noticed that his eyes flashed with amusement. "You wanted a game, well I'm not playing anymore," Lexi said low enough that only Moriarty and Sherlock could hear her.

"Good, I quite enjoy playing with you. Care for more fun?" Moriarty asked her, his face slipping into a smirk as he said it only loud enough for them to hear, his face blocked from the others by Sherlock and Lexi's bodies. Lexi glared at him and Sherlock grew furious. Moriarty was never going to touch her again.

"Stop it. Stop it NOW!" Sherlock shouted at Moriarty furiously.

"Jesus, look at you two. It's like you think it's all actually real. Just how mad are you?" Moriarty asked them, trying to make John doubt them more.

"Mad enough to invent their own super villain so they could look good," Kitty said before she turned and looked over at John. "Dr. Watson, please just think about it. An arch-enemy? A master criminal? How real does any of this seem to you? Who are the only people that could make all this stuff up? Kitty asked John who turned and looked over at the detective's, looking bought for one second before he smiled humorously and shook his head.

"Nice try," He told Kitty before Moriarty turned and bolted up the stairs. **_(A/N Actually deleted scene from the script)_**

"Don't hurt me!" Moriarty pleaded and Sherlock, John, and Lexi chased after him.

"Don't let him get away!" John shouted at Lexi and Sherlock and Lexi snorted as she raced after the consulting criminal.

"Leave him alone!" Kitty shouted behind them as Moriarty ran into the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. With Kitty still at the bottom of the stairs and therefore unsighted, and John halfway up the stairs with his vision blocked by Sherlock and Lexi ahead of him, Jim turned and grinned manically at Sherlock and Lexi for a brief second before slamming the door shut. Sherlock and Lexi ran to the door and Sherlock struggled momentarily to open it before he moved out of the way, Lexi kicking the door open with so much forced that it slammed into the opposite wall and left a sizeable dent in it. With the door opened they discovered that Moriarty had already disappeared through the open window opposite. There was a crash outside as if Moriarty had landed on top of a dustbin. Sherlock looked out of the window, then turned to stop John as he grabbed Lexi about the waist just as she was about to head out of the window after him. He drew her tightly to his chest and her hands rested upon his chest as she breathed in heavily.

"No, no, no. He'll have back-up," Sherlock told her and she looked up at him and nodded before he let her go slightly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him as he headed towards the stairs. Kitty backed down to get out of their way but didn't move quickly, slowing them down.

"D'you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you," Kitty said as Sherlock and Lexi stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Sherlock keeping Lexi slightly behind him as Kitty got in his face. "And you ... repel ... me," Kitty said slowly with a smug look on her face before it was wiped off by Lexi's hand which shot out with enough force that they all heard a loud crack as Kitty's nose broke. The woman cried out in pain and surprised as she reached desperately for her broken nose as blood began to drip down her face.

"And you repel me. Have a nice life Ms. Riley. Don't let the road come up to kick you in the arse," Lexi told her, leaning in so that she was inches from her face before she dragged Sherlock out of the door with her. John, still holding the folder of the articles about Rich, shoved Kitty aside and followed them as Kitty held her nose, tears streaming down her face at the pain. Sherlock held Lexi closely to him as the three of them walked out onto the street and John stopped while Sherlock disentangled himself from Lexi as soon as he was sure she would not return to cause Ms. Riley anymore harm. He began to pace rapidly back and forth in the middle of the road as Lexi flexed her fingers painfully, having now punched two people rather forcefully with the same hand in one night.

"Can he do that? Completely change his identity; make you two the criminals?" John asked the two of them while Lexi crossed her arms over her chest. Sherlock flicked his gaze to her and noticed that her posture was more relaxed now. She was calmer after she punched Ms. Riley, something he was quite sure she had wanted to do since the woman entered her flat.

"He's got our whole life story. That's what you do when you sell a big lie; you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable," Sherlock said, recalling what Lexi had said previously about the matter. That was how he planned to do it, give them a lie that was based in truth so it was believable and everyone would buy it.

"Your word against his," John said and Lexi nodded as she looked rather thoughtful.

"But he doesn't know everything," Lexi said and John turned to look at her as Sherlock flicked his gaze over to her. "He knows Sherlock's entire life story but not mine. He couldn't. You two and Joanna are the only two that know more than any one. You two are the only two that know the entirety of it, well Sherlock slightly more than you John, but that's why Kitty's story has holes in it. However way he found the information out, he couldn't get all of it," Lexi said and Sherlock nodded at her in agreement with her assumption.

"He's been sowing doubt into people's minds for the last twenty-four hours. There's only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that's to ...," Sherlock said, trailing off as he stopped dead. John, who had still been rifling through the folder, looked up at Sherlock, who was turned away from him, his eyes locked with Lexi's. Her eyes widened in surprise as he told her what he concluded with his gaze.

"Sherlock?" John asked him in concern as he looked to Lexi who uncrossed her arms, seemingly looking entirely calm all of a sudden.

"Something we need to do," Sherlock told the army doctor as Lexi walked over to him and grabbed his proffered hand, linking her fingers with his as she gazed back at him, her face not betraying anything she was feeling.

"What? Can I help?" John asked them in confusion and Lexi's gaze flicked over to him for a quick second before her gaze returned to Sherlock.

"No – on our own," Sherlock told him before he briskly walked away with Lexi close to his side and walking in step with him. John watched them, sighing, then looked down at the papers again. He looked up and down the road and then decided exactly where he needed to go and headed off in the opposite direction.

**Molly's POV**

Molly walked out of a small side room in the lab, switched off the lights, and walked across the darkened lab, sighing tiredly. As she reached the door to the corridor, Sherlock and Lexi were standing in the darkness behind her with their faces turned away from her. She didn't see them and reached for the door handle.

"You're wrong, you know," Sherlock said and Molly gasped and jumped, spinning around towards them. Sherlock was standing just next to Lexi, his arm wrapped around her waist and Lexi had one hand on his chest as she leaned in towards him. "You do count. You've always counted and we've always trusted you," Sherlock said, lifting his head and turning it towards her as he and Lexi broke their gaze, Lexi looking to the pathologist too. "But you were right. We're not okay," Sherlock told her as Lexi's eyes watered slightly, something that made Molly realize the seriousness of the situation.

"Tell me what's wrong," Molly told them as she looked at Lexi, wishing she could comfort her.

"Molly, we think we're going to die," Sherlock told the pathologist as they walked towards her slowly.

"What do you need?" Molly asked them immediately.

"If we weren't everything that you think we are – everything that we think we are– would you still want to help us?" Sherlock asked her as he and Lexi continued to slowly approach her. Molly gazed up at them as they stopped close to her.

"What do you need?" Molly asked them again with conviction and Sherlock and Lexi stepped even closer to her, Sherlock's gaze intense while Lexi's was still soft.

"You," The two consulting detectives said in unison and Molly nodded once before she went to flick the lights on in the lab. Nothing else mattered right now.

**Mycroft's POV**

Mycroft walked across one of the common rooms in the Diogenes Club, where an old man was fast asleep in an armchair, and walked into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stopped when he realized that John was sitting in one of the armchairs with his back to him and Joanna was leaning against the small desk in the room with her hands crossed over her chest not sitting on it like she normally would as she was wearing a black skirt and a black and white striped sweater blouse with a pair of high heels. The way she was glaring at him did not bode well for Mycroft and he immediately knew that as he was astutely aware of every look that Joanna would give him by now.

"Come in honey. We need to have a little chat," Joanna told him and her voice sounded rather dangerous. Mycroft met her gaze but did not back down under it. He noticed then that John was looking through a file.

"She has really done her homework, Miss Riley – things that only someone close to Sherlock and Lexi could know. I ran into Joanna on my way to see you and she agrees with me," John said and Mycroft closed the door.

"Ah," He exclaimed lightly as he cautiously gazed at Joanna who raised her eyebrow at him. From John's voice he could tell that he was just as angry as Joanna appeared to be.

"Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names, yours, Lexi's, and mine, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from me. Lexi said only Joanna, Sherlock, and I know the whole story about her. The only one who doesn't but knows enough is you. It wasn't that hard to figure out," John said and Mycroft walked across the room to face him.

"John ..." Mycroft started but the army doctor cut him off.

"So how does it work, then, your relationship? D'you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?" John asked him as Mycroft sat down in the chair opposite and opened his mouth but Joanna interrupted him before he could speak.

"I want to know this too. I'm really interested in what you think is possibly ever acceptable to do what you've done," Joanna said and John and Mycroft turned to look at her as she pushed off of the desk and walked closer to them. Mycroft swallowed thickly, knowing that her calm voice was masking her anger.

"Joanna…," Mycroft pleaded and she shook her head at him, her anger showing over her face in an instant as she dropped her calm outer look.

"Don't you dare Mycroft Holmes," Joanna started as she towered over Mycroft now that he was sitting as she normally would be a lot shorter than him. Mycroft saw the look of hurt in her eyes which was quickly hidden. "I thought…," Joanna said, he voice faltering slightly before she shook her head and looked back at him, her gaze intense. "I thought we were past the point of working against each other, but obviously I was wrong. Now, start talking before I make you and I guarantee that you will not like my methods," Joanna told him, her voice threatening before she gestured to John. "John, continue," Joanna told him and John did, his voice filled with controlled anger.

"Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac. And Lexi, you told everything you knew about her to a psychopath you knew she was afraid of," John said, as Joanna took the paper from him and read it over.

"I never inten... I never dreamt ...," Mycroft said, shaking his head as he searched for what he could possibly say.

"So this ...th-th-this ...," John said, interrupting again as Joanna handed him back the papers and John looked through them again. "...is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it, "Watch their backs, 'cause I've made a mistake."" John said, slapping the papers down on the table beside his chair and sitting back, clearing his throat as he tried to stay calm. "How did you meet him?" John asked him and Mycroft drew in a long breath before he flicked his gaze up to Joanna who still had her arms crossed in front of his chest and was still glaring down at him. Despite her height, Mycroft was more terrified about her reaction than John's.

"People like him, we know about them; we watch them like we did Lexi and Joanna. But James Moriarty ... the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket the ultimate weapon, a keycode. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door," Mycroft told them slowly and Joanna gritted her teeth as she looked down at him.

"And you abducted him to try and find the keycode?" John asked Mycroft who nodded ever so slightly.

"Interrogated him for weeks," Mycroft said, recalling how his men had tried to beat the information out of Moriarty.

"And?" John asked him.

"He wouldn't play along," Mycroft told him as he recalled how Moriarty had slowly turned his head towards the front after the blow and stared up at his interrogator, who struck him again. "He just sat there, staring into the darkness," Mycroft told them as he recalled how Moriarty was unfazed by the assault. "The only thing that made him open up ...," Mycroft told them as he ruefully gestured to himself. "I could get him to talk ... just a little, but ...," Mycroft said, trailing off and John grimly finished the sentence for him.

"...in return you had to offer him Sherlock and Lexi's life stories. So one big lie – Sherlock and Lexi are frauds – but people will swallow it because the rest of it's true," John said and he leaned forward, humming slightly as he raised his finger to his lips for a second. "Moriarty wanted Sherlock and Lexi destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition," John said, smiling bitterly at him. Mycroft lowered his eyes as Joanna lowered her arms to her sides, drawing their attention to her.

"You never asked for my help, not once. You knew I would have given it to you," Joanna told him and Mycroft was the only one to know that she sounded hurt as she met his gaze. "And why was I not informed of any of this? Anything that lands on your desk or that you get given goes directly to me and that is not negotiable," Joanna told him angrily. "What you did was inexcusable. Lexi is terrified of Moriarty and you knew that. He will destroy them in fact he's already started to," Joanna said and John pulled in a sharp breath and then got to his feet, turning towards the door.

"John ...," Mycroft said, turning to the army doctor and John turned back to him. "I'm sorry," Mycroft told him softly, pleading with him and with Joanna. He didn't have a choice. He had done what he thought was best, what he had to do.

"Oh, please ...," John said tightly and he shook his head in disbelief and turned away, laughing humourlessly as he walked to the door.

"Tell them, would you?" Mycroft called after him as John opened the door and walked away, leaving the door open behind him. Joanna moved and Mycroft looked up at her as she turned away from him. "Joanna, please…," Mycroft asked her and she turned around her eyes filled with tears.

"One word Mycroft. One word, that's all you needed to ask me and I would have helped you. I thought that we trusted each other after everything that has happened between us. How, how could you keep something like this from me?" Joanna asked him as she turned back to him hugging herself tightly as tears slid down her checks.

"I needed to protect you," Mycroft told her, getting to his feet. "James Moriarty also knew of you. He mentioned a Lady Liberty when we had him in custody. I've seen how he reacted to Alexandria. I could not allow him to get that close to you. I care for you too much," Mycroft told her as he reached out cautiously to her and felt very grateful as she allowed him to put a hand on her shoulder before he reached up and put his hand on her cheek. She turned into his touch which was always a good sign. In truth, he and Joanna were no longer fighting all the time and they actually had quite a loving and often physical relationship now. "Please know that I never dreamt for this to happen. That I didn't… Joanna I love you…," Mycroft said trailing off as Joanna moved towards him and pulled him into a hug. Mycroft slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly to him, feeling comfort in her entire warm body pressing up against him in an intimate way.

"I know mon amore. We'll figure something out. We'll fix this, but together. No more secrets between us though. I love you too. I'm not completely happy with you and this doesn't mean you are forgiven but we'll figure this out together," Joanna told him as she pulled back and Mycroft nodded at her. She reached up and touched his face, rubbing along his jawline with her thumb. "I love you and that won't change no matter how many mistakes we both make. I might be a bit short with you and cross and it will come out sometimes, but I'm not leaving you over this," Joanna told him before she pulled him down and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. "Don't worry amante. We'll… we'll figure out something to fix this," Joanna assured him and Mycroft nodded again before he and Joanna immersed themselves in trying to find a solution to their new problem, the way they always did now, together. Lexi had brought Joanna to Mycroft and for that he would always be grateful, she was so much different than any woman he ever expected to marry or fall in love with, but she was exactly what he needed. She was his and by some miracle, she had chosen him, just…no one knew about it yet. He could figure this out as long as he had her by his side and someday he might just make her his.

**Third Person POV**

The lights were on now in the lab and Sherlock and Lexi sat on the floor together, Sherlock's back against the bench behind him and Lexi's back resting up against the cabinet doors behind her. They sat across from one another so that they could look at each other and Sherlock was bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard in front of him, Lexi catching it and throwing it back to him before they repeated the movement constantly. John walked into the lab to find them in this exact way.

"Got your message," John said and Sherlock caught the ball that Lexi had just thrown back to him and held on to it.

"The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it – beat Moriarty at his own game," Sherlock said as Lexi looked to him, her hair falling down around her and slightly tangled from the night's activities.

"What d'you mean, "use it"?" John asked them and Lexi turned away from Sherlock to look at him.

"Moriarty used the keycode to create a false identity. Records of him that make his story believable, so if we can find the keycode I could use it to break into the records and Joanna and I can destroy any information about Richard Brook," Lexi told him as she flicked her gaze over to Sherlock, looking thoughtful for a moment.

"And bring back Jim Moriarty again,"' John said as Sherlock stood up and reached down, helping Lexi to her feet as well.

"Somewhere in 221B, somewhere – on the day of the verdict – he left it hidden," Sherlock said as he turned and faced the bench, putting both hands on the work surface. John walked to stand beside Lexi who had done the same, unconsciously mimicking their stances.

"Uh-huh," John said and both of them stared ahead of themselves, thinking as Lexi pushed off the bench and turned around. She pulled out her phone and started texting, throwing a look over her shoulder at Sherlock as she stowed her phone away again. John pursed his lips, then looked at Sherlock. "What did he touch?" John asked them, looking over his shoulder at Lexi who had her hands in a prayer position in front of her mouth, her eyes closed.

"An apple. Nothing else," Sherlock answered him and he briefly drummed his fingers on the bench.

"Did he write anything down?" John asked them as Lexi opened her eyes.

"No and I kept an eye on him while he was in the flat. He only moved from the door to Sherlock's chair and he was never out of our sight," Lexi told him as she turned back to them. John hissed in a breath and looked away, racking his brains and again unconsciously mimicking Sherlock by drumming his own fingers on the bench.

After a moment, John turned and walked across the lab, blowing the breath out again. Sherlock lifted the fingers of his right hand, and hesitated for a moment before he began to drum them again but now he was beating out a specific rhythm and, in his mind, binary code began to stream out from his fingers. Lexi moved over to his side and Sherlock repeated it for her as her eyes widened and then she frowned at him.

"Binary code?" Sherlock asked her in a whisper with a raise of his eyebrow and she nodded.

"Yes. The keycode. He gave it to us this way. That's why they all need us. Only we know it and only we could remember that," Lexi told him quickly under her breath and Sherlock lifted his head as John sighed heavily.

"Can you use it?" Sherlock asked her in an undertone and Lexi shrugged.

"Maybe, but not likely. Joanna possibly, but binary code, I would have to understand how the keycode was supposed to work before I could use it," Lexi whispered back to him quickly. He straightened up and turned his back to John as Lexi also turned and Sherlock took out his phone out of his pocket and began to type a text message.

**_Come and play._**

**_Bart's Hospital rooftop._**

**_SH & LM_**

He paused for a moment, then added:

**_PS. Got something of yours you might want back._**

Sending the message, Sherlock tucked his phone away into his jacket and then turned back towards the bench, his eyes full of thought as Lexi hopped up on the bench beside him and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing down. Sherlock looked to her and saw her eye lids fluttering ever so slightly as she walked around her Mind Palace she was calculating, every possibly that now lay before them.

Some hours later, dawn was finally breaking as night came to an end. Sherlock was still in the same place in the lab, although he was now sitting on a stool with his feet up on the bench. He was rapidly rolling the rubber ball from side to side across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. He had pulled Lexi onto his lap some hours ago and she had curled up on his chest, her feet dangling over the side of his lap as he held onto her. He had suggested that she get some sleep but she had shook her head and informed him that there was no way she could possibly sleep now. She traced circles onto his chest as she breathed in calmly, her eyes open as she stared at nothing. At one point she slid her phone from her jacket and shot out a quick text but then she had settled back against Sherlock's chest and hadn't moved since. John had sat on a stool at a nearby bench and he had his head down on his folded arms, asleep. While John was asleep, Sherlock and Lexi had taken a small moment to themselves and Sherlock had leaned down to kiss her tenderly. He held her to him tightly, familiarizing himself with her scent and the curve of her body, how she felt when resting up against him. John's phone rang suddenly, breaking the silence. Lifting his head tiredly, John groaned and answered his phone.

"Yeah, speaking," John said and he listened for a moment. "Er, what?" John asked, sounding shocked and he got to his feet. "What happened? Is she okay?" John asked quickly before he listened intently. "Oh my God. Right, yes, I'm coming," John said before he switched the phone off.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked up at him, her head still on Sherlock's chest as she breathed in deeply and then let the breath out.

"Paramedics. Mrs Hudson – she's been shot," John said, his voice weak and Lexi lifted her head, her hair that was covering Sherlock's arm and most of his lap moving with her.

"What? How?" Sherlock asked him calmly and Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly.

"Well, probably one of the killers you two managed to attract ... Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock, Lexi. Let's go," John said frantically before he turned towards the door.

"You go. We're busy," Sherlock told him disinterestedly and John turned back towards them, his face appalled as he saw that Lexi hadn't even moved an inch.

"Busy?" John asked them both as he flicked his gaze to Lexi angrily.

"Thinking. We need to think," Sherlock told him as Lexi remained silent, meeting John's gaze.

"You need to ...? Doesn't she mean anything to you two? You two once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her," John said quickly in disbelief.

"She's our landlady," Sherlock said, shrugging as Lexi looked to Sherlock before she slid off his lap and stood next to him. The consulting detective wrapped his arm around her waist tightly as she leaned her back against his shoulder.

"She's dying ...," John said furiously, flailing a hand in front of himself in utter disbelief at Sherlock's attitude and Lexi's apparent indifference. Of all people he never expected it from her. He would have expected her to have raced ahead of him and already be half way to Baker Street by now. Apparently he had been wrong in ever thing that she was not like Sherlock. She was exactly like him. "You machines," John finished, looking down and shaking his head and he missed the hurt expression on Lexi's face which was gone as soon as he looked up again. "Sod this. Sod this," John said before he turned and head to the door. "You two stay here if you want, on your own."

"Alone is what we have. Alone protects us," Sherlock told him as John opened the door and looked back at them angrily.

"No. Friends protect people," John said before he turned his gaze to Lexi. "Are you honestly going to stay here with him while Mrs. Hudson is dying?" John asked Lexi angrily and she nodded once, flicking her gaze to Sherlock before she turned back to him.

"I'm staying here John. Isn't the line for better or for worse?" Lexi asked him as she reached up and pulled her chain out of her shirt, revealing a beautiful diamond ring on it.

"What?" John asked her in disbelief as he lost his anger for a second. "Is there something you haven't told me?" John asked them in shock as he looked between Sherlock and Lexi.

"There was never a good time to tell you," Lexi told him as she took the chain off and took the ring off of it before she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger.

"You're engaged?" John asked them in shock and Lexi nodded once. John looked down and shook his head, before he realized that he should have seen it all along. "And you're not coming?" John asked as he looked back up to her and she nodded at him again.

"I promised John. Never again. I'm staying here where I belong," Lexi told him and John nodded slightly and then again with more conviction as his anger returned.

"Right then…enjoy this…," John told them, gesturing at them before he stormed out of the room. Sherlock lifted his gaze towards the door as Lexi finally let the tears well up in her eyes. A moment later Sherlock's phone trilled a text alert. He reached into his pocket and looked at the message:

**_I'm waiting..._**

**_JM_**

Taking his feet off the bench, Sherlock stood and drew Lexi to him. She wrapped her arms around his next as he slipped his hands around her waist.

"Shhh, it's alright," Sherlock told her, stroking her hair to comfort her as she sniffled slightly, a few tears escaping her eyes and rolling down her cheeks onto his shoulder. "Stay here," Sherlock told her as he pulled back and Lexi looked to him, her expression going from upset to angry in all of one second.

"No. And don't you dare say what you are going to Sherlock Holmes!" Lexi told him, poking him in the chest roughly as she glared up at him, her eyes still slightly watery.

"Lexi…," Sherlock started, but she shook her head quickly. Her hair bounced around her mesmerizingly.

"No. When we started this we started this together. Our first case we decided to work together. I thought I lost you once. You are not going to meet Moriarty alone. I made a promise to you, one I intend to keep," Lexi shouted at him and Sherlock glared down at her.

"And I promised myself I would keep you safe!" Sherlock shouted at her and Lexi looked up at him, her face losing its anger as she sighed heavily and looked away from him.

"If you think I could live with myself…if I could live without you then you're wrong," Lexi said as she looked back at him. "Moriarty wants us both dead. If he kills you first he will come after me next and I would let him," Lexi said lifting her hand and putting it over Sherlock's lips as he went to interrupt her. "I don't want to live in a world that you're not in. I made a promise to you, never again. Being apart from you for even three days nearly killed me. You dying would kill me. I love you, more than I've ever allowed myself to love someone else. And a second or even a day will never be enough for me. When you asked me to marry you that was the day that I promised you forever. I love you Sherlock Holmes so you have to make a decision. Together or not at all?" Lexi asked Sherlock and he stared down at her for a long moment before he bent down and crashed his lips against hers.

Lexi raised herself on her tiptoes as Sherlock lifted her slightly off the ground, Lexi's hands coming to wrap around his neck and play with his curls. He lifted her completely off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked them backward so that she was sitting on the bench in front of them. Her legs remained wrapped around his waist as he tangled his hands into her hair and he asked for entrance into her mouth which she granted. They tongues tangled together and Lexi pressed herself closer to him as Sherlock tried to hold her closer to him. Nothing was ever close enough though. Sherlock moaned into her mouth, his hands roaming over her sides lightly and slipped under her jumper to feel her warm skin underneath as she did the same to him, feeling the muscular skin of his stomach, just needing to feel his warmth which proved he was real and alive. They kissed desperately for several long minutes and Lexi moaned into the kiss as their tongues tangled together, her fingers tangled up in Sherlock's hair. When the broke apart, breathing heavily, Sherlock rested his forehead against Lexi's pulling back slightly to press a kiss to it before they allowed themselves that moment in time. No noise, no people, just the two of them, clinging to that tiny part of the universe. Sherlock pulled back and cupped Lexi's face in her hands as he looked at her intensely.

"Together," Sherlock whispered to her and Lexi nodded before Sherlock took a step back and helped her off of the bench.

"Whatever happens, we always have each other," Lexi told him as she raised her left hand and showed him her ring. "And I am proud to wear this. You are the only man I have ever loved and could ever love and I want you to never forget that. Whatever happens we do this together and we will get out of it together," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded at her before they walked across the lab, Sherlock holding her left hand and bushing his thumb over her engagement ring as he buttoned his jacket. He picked up their coats and opened the door. Just outside the room he helped her into her coat and tugged her scarf into place before she reached up and tied his scarf for him, smirking slightly as she popped the collar of his coat.

"I love you," Sherlock told Lexi with the utmost conviction, saying those three words for the first time and meaning every single one of them. "I know I haven't said it before…," Sherlock said as Lexi reached up and put her finger over his lips.

"And you never have to. I know," Lexi told him, drawing him down by the lapels of his coat and kissing him soundly before she slipped her left hand into his. "Once more onto the breach," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded at her before they started off to the stairs together. And they would not go gentle into that good night for rage, rage against the dying of the light.


	83. The Final Problem

**Without further ado I give you the Fall. Tomorrow we have Many Happy Returns and yes, I am working on Goldfish, I promise. Two tests to study for and two papers to write so college is getting in the way this week plus my birthday but I'm working on it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty One- The Final Problem<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I walked out onto the roof of the hospital together. Daylight had finally come and this was us, facing Moriarty for possibly the last time. He was waiting for us too, back in his typical smart suit and overcoat with his hair slicked back. He was calmly sitting on the raised ledge at the edge of the building with his phone in his hand while The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" played from it. He didn't look at Sherlock or me as we came up onto the roof and walked towards him. He was casual, even now. That was Moriarty and something I had come to learn. He didn't feel fear. It was a completely foreign concept to him. No matter what Sherlock or I ever did, he would never feel fear even if I were to kill him myself on this rooftop. And that was what made him so dangerous. I didn't fear him anymore though. He was just a man. Fear of the name, well, I wouldn't call him Moriarty anymore. He was simply Jim in my eyes. I still feared what he could do because I knew that like us he was prepared to do anything but I could never be afraid of him anymore. There were many more things I feared these days.

"Ah. Here we are at last – you two and me, Sherlock, Lexi, and our problem – the final problem," Moriarty said and he held his phone up higher. Well he had officially ruined that song for me forever. "Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Moriarty continued in a bit of a singsong voice before he angrily switched off his phone. "It's just ...," Moriarty said as he held his hand out flat with the palm down and skimmed it slowly through the air level to the roof "... staying," Moriarty said and he pulled his hand back and briefly sunk his head into it while Sherlock paced around the roof just in front of me. I knew that he was keeping himself between me and Moriarty and his gaze, while staying trained on Moriarty, also flicked to me as I watched the consulting criminal wearily. "All my life I've been searching for distractions. You two were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you two," Moriarty said and Sherlock's head turned sharply to him as he continued to pace. "And you know what? In the end it was easy," Moriarty told us and Sherlock stopped beside me and folded his hands behind his back. I kept my hands loosely at my sides, seemingly relaxed but Sherlock looked to my shoulders and I knew that he knew I was very tense right now. "It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people," Moriarty said, his face pulling an expression as if this would physically pain him. "And it turns out you two are ordinary just like all of them," Moriarty said quietly in disappointment. He lowered his head again and rubbed his face before looking up at Sherlock and me. "Ah well," Moriarty said in a singsong voice as he stood up and walked closer to us before he started to slowly pace around us. I moved my hands behind my back, mimicking Sherlock's posture as I watched Moriarty, not turning my head to look at him, but waiting and listening. "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?" Moriarty asked us, pausing to look at Sherlock as he said real and pausing before me as he said get you.

"No the bruise on your face was proof enough for me. Though lovely job with the acting," I told Moriarty and he smirked at me and nodded at my sarcastic compliment.

"Richard Brook," Sherlock said, giving me a side long look before he turned and gazed out over London again.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you two do," Moriarty told us and I nodded once at him as I met his gaze.

"Of course," Sherlock answered him as I said, "Elementary."

"Attaboy," Moriarty told Sherlock while he just smirked at me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made our name," Sherlock told Moriarty as the consulting criminal continued to circle us in an almost predatory way.

"Just tryin' to have some fun," Moriarty told us in a fake American accent and I laughed at that, drawing Moriarty's attention as Sherlock flicked his gaze to me again.

"All you had to do was ask. I think you'd like my kind of fun," I told Moriarty threateningly and he giggled as he stopped and looked at me dead in the eye. My kind of fun would have left him dead and maimed. I would find a way to murder him if nothing but for the satisfaction of it.

"Oooh when did you get to be so violent?" Moriarty asked me in amusement, flicking his gaze over to Sherlock and raising his eyebrow before he looked back at me. I narrowed my eyes at Moriarty, sizing him up and I knew that if it was him and me alone, I could take him. We were both Irish. Most likely he knew some of the same tricks I did. He had strength to his advantage but I had my size. I was quick and nimble. He was too, but I could probably take him down if I bided my time and played it smart instead of letting my anger get the better of me.

"Hmmm, let me think was it at the pool or when you thought you could use Ms. Adler against us?" I asked Moriarty, tilting my head to side as if I was thinking. "No, it most certainly was the pool. I told you. I'm not playing games anymore," I told Moriarty dangerously and he leaned in towards me with a smirk on his face.

"I can see that," Moriarty told me in amusement before he started to pace around us again. He looked down to Sherlock's hands and saw that he was tapping out a rhythm with his fingers. I frowned for a moment when I watched the pattern again and started taping the rhythm out on my leg. Something was off about it, something I didn't notice before. Something that I should have noticed before.

"Good. You got that too," Moriarty told us as my frown deepened.

"Beats like digits," Sherlock told Moriarty as I went through the pattern again. Not digits, finger movements. Keys, finger spacing, piano. "Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save our lives. It was hidden on us; hidden inside our heads – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system," Sherlock continued as I closed my eyes and tried to figure this out.

"I told all my clients, last one to Sherlock and Lexi is a sissy," Moriarty said and his tone of voice was slightly off, not taunting like I would have suspected, now he sounded slightly disappointed almost bored.

"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. We can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty," Sherlock said, gesturing to his own head and smiling ever so slightly. Moriarty gazed at him for a moment, then turned away with a disappointed look on his face. I was right, we had gotten something wrong.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," Moriarty said, closing his eyes as he buried his head in his hands. "This is too easy," Moriarty repeated in despair as he lowered his hands and turned back to Sherlock. "There is no key, DOOFUS!" Moriarty said, screaming the last word into Sherlock's face and I fought against flinching. "Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. She's figured it out already though, didn't you Lexi?" Moriarty asked me and I nodded once as Sherlock couldn't hide the confused look on his face. "You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed," Moriarty told Sherlock and he turned away from us and lumbered across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continued speaking. "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm ...," Sherlock said in confusion, trailing off as I put a hand on his arm and looked at Moriarty.

""Partita number one." I should have realized it sooner. You are a fan of his work though I prefer Brahms," I told Moriarty and he raised his hands in the air. I should have realized it sooner. It was my fault and this little slip up could have cost us something.

"Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach," Moriarty cried skyward before he turned around and lowered his arms angrily.

"But then how did ...," Sherlock asked Moriarty, still sounding confused but Moriarty spoke over him. I was just putting the pieces together myself, thing I should have realized before but we had taken what we saw, what we had been told so literally, never once thinking about another alternative.

"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" Moriarty asked us as he turned and spread his arms wide before looking at me. "Care to explain Lexi, my dear? I'm dying to hear your thoughts, quite literally dying. I thought you were ordinary, but you aren't, you know. When did you begin to guess?" Moriarty asked me and I looked over at him, squeezing Sherlock's arm slightly before I answered the consulting criminal.

"From the beginning I always wondered if something was off about the keycode. A keycode that can unlock any door? I would have found one if it was possible, but it isn't. There's always some system you can't bypass and some back door you can't find. Then there was the fact that there wasn't even a trace of it, not even a whisper. There were two possibilities for that, either the code was so advanced that I couldn't find it or there never was a code to begin with. You said in our flat that you had already told us, asked us if we were listening and you had, but it wasn't about the keycode. "Every person has a pressure point; someone they want to protect from harm."" I told Moriarty, reciting the last part from memory as I finally connected the dots and saw all of the patterns. "Daylight robbery, you convinced people to help you and they were all too willing because you threatened them just like you did the jury," I finished and Moriarty raised his hands and started to clap slowly as I eyed him wearily.

"You're clever," Moriarty said, pointing at me accusingly before he looked at Sherlock with a smirk on his face. "Isn't she Sherlock, more clever than you at least. "I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you two chose a tall building – nice way to do it," Moriarty told us sounding slightly upset which was hard for me to comprehend and I gritted my teeth. Sherlock had been staring blankly into the distance as I explained everything to him and Moriarty, but now he looked back at the consulting criminal in bewilderment.

"Do it? Do – do what?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I looked to Sherlock. He blinked as it became clearer to him, his eyebrows raising as he and I turned towards Moriarty. "Yes, of course. Our suicides," Sherlock said, answering his own question.

""Genius detectives proved to be frauds." I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales," Moriarty said as Sherlock reached for my left hand and held it in his own as we walked to the edge of the room together and leaned forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Moriarty waked to stand beside Sherlock and looked over the side as well. "And pretty Grimm ones too," Moriarty finished as he turned his head and looked at Sherlock and I ominously.

**John's POV**

A cab pulled up outside of 221B and John jumped out and hurried towards the door, scrabbling for his keys. Hurrying inside, he saw the tattooed bald workman standing at the top of his stepladder just in front of the stairs, drilling a hole into the wall. Mrs. Hudson was standing nearby watching him. As John ran towards her, she jolted in startlement, having not heard his approach over the sound of the drill.

"Oh, God, John! You made me jump!" Mrs. Hudson told him as she turned round to look at him.

"But ...," John said, staring at her in confusion.

"Is everything okay now with the police? Has, um, Sherlock and Lexi sorted it all out?" Mrs. Hudson asked him and John stared at her for a moment longer before it finally sank in. They wanted him away from Sherlock and Lexi. Something was going to happen to them.

"Oh my God," John said softly, his voice filled with horror. He turned around and ran outside looking up and down the street frantically. Luckily he immediately saw what he needed. "Taxi!" John shouted frantically and a cab began to pull over on the other side of the road. John chased across the road towards it. "Taxi!" John shouted again. A man was standing at the side of the road having also just hailed the cab. As he leaned into the front window to tell the driver his destination, John ran around the cab and pulled open the rear door, talking as he scrambled inside. "No, no, no, no, police! ... Sort of," John told the cabbie and the man.

"Oh, thanks, mate – thanks a lot!" The man shouted at him, walking away angrily. All he could think about was getting to Sherlock and Lexi. Something was seriously wrong.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock, Moriarty and I turned towards each other at the edge of the roof, just staring at each other. "We can still prove that you created an entirely false identity," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone dangerous, as I looked back at the consulting criminal.

"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," Moriarty told us wearily, sounding exasperated. Sherlock turned and I turned away and Sherlock began to pace distractedly. "Go on. For me," Moriarty pleaded with us and he made his voice into a high-pitched squeal for the next word. "Pleeeeeease?" Moriarty asked us and in a sudden movement, Sherlock grabbed him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spun him around so that Moriarty's back was to the drop. I took a step towards them and put a hand on the one of the arms Sherlock was holding Moriarty with, stopping him for the most part, but also wanting to be right next to him. Sherlock stared into Moriarty's face as I also looked at the consulting criminal. Sherlock shoved him back one step nearer to the edge and Moriarty looked at us with interest as Sherlock's breathing became shorter.

"You're insane," Sherlock told Moriarty as my grip on his arm tightened, Moriarty just blinked back at us, seemingly unfazed as he raised his arms to his sides slightly.

"You're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked us and I shook my head at him, my hair bouncing around me.

"Oh no, I've always known you were mental," I told Moriarty and Sherlock shoved him further back, now holding him over the edge. Moriarty whooped almost triumphantly and gazed back at us with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp.

"Okay, let me give you two a little extra incentive," Moriarty told us and Sherlock frowned at him as Moriarty's voice became more savage. "Your friends will die if you two don't," Moriarty told us and fear began to creep into Sherlock's eyes as I narrowed my eyes at Moriarty, my heart beating just a bit faster.

"John," Sherlock said in a quiet voice.

"Not just John," Moriarty told us before continuing in a savage whisper. "Everyone."

"Mrs Hudson," Sherlock continued as I shifted closer to Moriarty.

"Everyone" Moriarty told us again in a whisper with a delighted smile on his face as I clenched my free hand into a fist, shaking slightly in anger.

"Lestrade," Sherlock said and Moriarty looked away from him and towards me.

"Everyone," Moriarty hissed dangerously at me.

"Mycroft," I said and Moriarty raised an eyebrow at me and I clenched my teeth and continued. "And Joanna," I added, knowing that he was expecting more from me.

"Five bullets; five gunmen; five victims. There's no stopping them now," Moriarty told us, shaking his head and Sherlock furiously pulled him back upwards to safety. Moriarty stared into his face as I slid my hand into Sherlock's free one now that he only held onto Moriarty with one hand. "Unless my people see you two jump," Moriarty told us and Sherlock gazed past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Moriarty shook himself free of Sherlock's grasp and smiled triumphantly. I glared at Moriarty, gritting my teeth angrily. This was his plan all along. "You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me…," Moriarty said, flashing his smirk at me at that. "…but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only five friends in the world will die ... unless ..." Moriarty said getting in our faces and adding bite to the word unless. He trailed off as he watched us closely.

"...unless we kill ourselves – complete your story," Sherlock finished for him, looking beyond him as I looked out over London as well. Moriarty nodded, smiling ecstatically at us.

"You've gotta admit that's sexier," Moriarty told us, making a face as he did a wild arm gesture and I looked up at Sherlock, biting my lip slightly as I shuddered, remembering when he had used that line before when I was handcuffed to a chair and he was trying to get me to join his side.

"And we die in disgrace," Sherlock said, his gaze distant and lost.

"Of course. That's the point of this," Moriarty told us in a matter of fact tone. He looked over the side and I leaned just a bit and saw that someone had stopped at the benches near the bus stop below us, and several other people were in the vicinity. "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," Moriarty told us and he rolled his head from side to side on his neck. "Go on," Moriarty told us and we slowly stepped past him and up onto the ledge together. Sherlock's hold on my hand tightened as we stepped up together. "I told you how this ends," Moriarty told us as Sherlock's breathing became shakier as we looked down. I inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering my fear of heights. It never got to me before when I was moving quickly over roof tops. When I was chasing a criminal I had purpose but now I was just staring down at the pavement. "Your deaths are the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it," Moriarty told us, and he turned his head to look up at Sherlock and I expectantly. Sherlock blinked anxiously as I brought by other hand up and clutched his arm tightly.

"Would you give us ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" Sherlock asked Moriarty before he glanced down at him. "Please?" Sherlock asked Moriarty who looked disappointed that Sherlock should be so ordinary and ask for something like that.

"Of course. Anything for the happy couple," Moriarty told us as his eyes slid down to my left hand and the ring that rested on my ring finger. "You know, I never did get to tell you congratulations," Moriarty told us with a smirk before he moved away from us across the room. Sherlock took several shallow anxious breaths to calm himself, then he stopped breathing for a moment as he turned slightly and looked at me. I frowned thoughtfully as I saw what he was getting at and our brains kicked into gear again. Sherlock lifted his gaze and his expression became more thoughtful as he looked back at me and I saw my Sherlock. Always thinking of a way out and always brilliant. Slowly a smile spread across his face and he started to chuckle. Behind us, Moriarty was slowly walking across the roof but he stopped, his expression livid, when Sherlock laughed with delight. "What?" Moriarty demanded, spinning around to us furiously and Sherlock continued to laugh. "What is it?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock and I half turned on the ledge, Sherlock smiling towards him as he glared back. I wasn't laughing though. I saw what Sherlock did, but knowing Moriarty he would have expected for some error to occur in his plans. He knew me, he knew I was unpredictable. "What did I miss?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock hopped down off the ledge before lifting me off of it by the waist and setting me carefully down beside him before we walked closer to Moriarty together.

""You're not going to do it." So the killers can be called off, then – there's a recall code or a word or a number," Sherlock said as we dropped hands and circled Moriarty in opposite directions. "We don't have to die ...," Sherlock told Moriarty before his voice became sing-song. "...if we've got you.

"Oh!" Jim said and he laughed in relieved delight. I eyed him and Sherlock wearily. There was something her that was too easy about it and Moriarty wouldn't let it be easy for us. Sherlock was lowering his guard slightly because he thought he was cleverer than Moriarty. Ego and pride was one of the Holmes' downfalls, but I was on my guard. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you two can make me do that?" Moriarty asked us, pointing at Sherlock as he past Moriarty and he eyed me as I circled him, calculating several possibilities all at once. My brain worked into high gear as I calculated, recalculated and thought of every move Moriarty could make now.

"Yes. So do you or at least you know Lexi can," Sherlock told Moriarty, flicking his gaze up to me as he continued to circle around the consulting criminal. "You know that she has her methods and as she said, she isn't playing your game anymore," Sherlock added and Moriarty shook his head slightly at that.

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to," Moriarty told us as he tightened his lips and Sherlock stopped, getting into Moriarty's face. I paused as well beside Sherlock, but stayed as far back as I could in my position from Moriarty.

"Yes, but we're not my brother, remember? We are you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want us to shake hands with you in hell? We shall not disappoint you," Sherlock told Moriarty, folding his hands behind his back as I hardened my gaze at the consulting criminal who just shook his head at us slowly.

"You've never seen what I can do, what I am prepared to do," I told Moriarty and he flicked his gaze over to me as my voice took on a dark threatening tone. "You've gone and threatened everyone I love. There is not a safe place for you to stand," I threatened Moriarty, my tone biting and clipped as I leaned in towards him, my eyes dark and dangerous. I was willing to shoot Henry in the hollow if he so much as made one move to harm Sherlock or John. Now Moriarty threatened the five people I cared most about and he was threatening Sherlock. I was prepared to do anything now.

"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're both ordinary – you're on the side of the angels," Moriarty told us and I laughed darkly at that

"Oh, we may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that we are one of them," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone becoming more ominous. We locked eyes for a long moment while Moriarty tried to deduce just how far Sherlock and I would go. When he locked eyes with me my eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, you're not," Moriarty said and he blinked, then closed his eyes briefly. Sherlock did likewise in an unintentional mirror movement. Moriarty smiled and opened his eyes again as I eyed him darkly. "I see. You two aren't ordinary. No. You're me," Moriarty told us softly, sounding insane. He hissed out a delighted laugh and his voice became more high-pitched. "You're me! Thank you!" Moriarty told us and he lifted his hands as if to embrace Sherlock and me, but then he lowered them and offered a hand for the each of us to shake. "Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna," Moriarty said as the three of us looked down at his offered hands. Sherlock slowly raised his own right hand while I slowly raised my left hand and took one of Moriarty's proffered hands. "Thank you. Bless you," Moriarty told us, nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stayed soft. He blinked and lowered his gaze as if blinking back tears. "As long as I'm alive, you two can save your friends; you've got a way out," Moriarty said and he continued the blink with his gaze lowered. "Well, good luck with that," Moriarty told us and in rapid succession he raised his eyes to Sherlock and I, grinned manically, opened his mouth wide and dropped my hand before pulling Sherlock closer to him as he reached into his waistband with his other hand and pulled a pistol out, raising it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulled back, the both of us crying out in alarm, Moriarty stuck the muzzle into his own mouth and pulled the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. I let out a sound of shock as Sherlock and I stared in horror as blood began to trickle across the roof underneath Moriarty's head. His eyes were fixed and open and there was a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spun away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raised his hands to his head in horror. I opened and closed my mouth in shock and I must have let out some noise as Sherlock turned back to me instantly and spun my around by my shoulders to face him.

"Don't look," Sherlock told me as I stared at him in horror and he pulled me tightly to him. I buried my face into his chest. Letting out a small sob. That was it, we had no choice. "Lexi…," Sherlock whispered quietly as he pulled back and looked down at me as tears streamed down my face, his own eyes watering. I flung myself at him and held him tightly. Together, it would always be together.

**Third Person POV**

Not far away and unseen by Sherlock and Lexi, a man trotted up a staircase and then sat down on the stairs and began to assemble a high-powered rifle. Meanwhile John sat anxiously in the taxi on his way back to Bart's. At 221, Mrs Hudson gave a mug of tea to the workman who was squatting in the hallway. He took it and smiled gratefully, and once she had moved away he picked up one of his tools and put it into his toolbox. Lying on top of all the other tools was a pistol with a small silencer attached to it. He raised his eyes ominously in the direction of Mrs. Hudson as she walked back into 221A. As the assassin on the staircase continued to assemble his rifle, at Scotland Yard a plain clothed police officer in the general office looked round to Greg's office with his eyes narrowed as the D.I. spoke on the phone.

"Yes, sir, thank you. 'Bye," Lestrade said before he hung up the phone and sighed heavily.

Across London, a sniper set up across the way from the office which Joanna and Mycroft were now in, watching the two of them as Mycroft stood behind Joanna who was working quickly on her computer just in front of him. On the stairwell, the assassin finished his assembly, opened the nearby window and aimed his gun out of it as John's taxi got closer to Bart's. On the rooftop, Sherlock breathed shallowly and rapidly as tears streamed down Lexi's face and Sherlock held his sleeve up over his mouth in horror as he turned to look again at Moriarty's fixed grin. He thought frantically for a while, before he and Lexi slowly turned towards the edge of the building. Their breathing began to slow as they stepped up onto the ledge, Sherlock's arm around Lexi's waist, both blowing out another breath before looking down towards the ground. They were prepared to do anything. In the street below, John's taxi pulled up. Sherlock took out his phone and selected a speed dial. The answering phone began to ring below him as John got out of the taxi and raised his phone to his ear as he trotted towards the hospital.

"Hello?" John answered.

"John," Sherlock said calmly into the phone which Sherlock had on speaker.

"Hey, Sherlock, you and Lexi okay?" John asked him quickly, feeling relieved to be hearing from one of them

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," Sherlock ordered him and John frowned slightly.

"No, I'm coming in," John told him and Lexi took in a deep breath beside Sherlock.

"Just do as I ask. Please," Sherlock told John frantically, his voice taking on an emotion that John had never heard before and that scared him slightly.

"Please John," Lexi said, her voice slightly thick and John took in a deep breath as he heard her voice come through the phone too.

"Where?" John asked them, turning back and looking around bewildered. Something wasn't right. Sherlock and Lexi paused for a moment while John walked back along the road, then Sherlock spoke urgently.

"Stop there," Sherlock ordered him and the army doctor did as he was told.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he heard only quiet breathing coming from the Irish girl over the phone.

"Okay, look up. We're on the rooftop," Sherlock told him and John turned and looked up, his face filling with horror as he saw the unmistakeable forms of Sherlock and Lexi, standing on the ledge of the roof. It was hard not to recognize that distinctive shade of red hair.

"Oh God," John breathed in horror as he saw their coats blowing slightly in the wind, along with Lexi's hair. Sherlock's arm was around Lexi's waist and she had one of her hands on his chest.

"We ... we ... we can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this," Sherlock told him, the phone between the two of them.

"What's going on?" John asked them anxiously as they stared at each other, John from the ground and Sherlock and Lexi from the rooftop.

"An apology. It's all true," Sherlock told him calmly.

"Every word of it was true John,' Lexi said, her voice not as thick as before, but John could still hear the emotion in it.

"Wh-what?" John stammered in confusion.

"Everything they said about us. We invented Moriarty," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi looked around briefly to their enemy's grinning body lying behind them. On the ground, John stared up at his friends in disbelief.

"It was all game John, us meeting you. Sherlock and I had already knew each other and we kept it from Mycroft," Lexi told him, her voice light and sounding normal again.

"Why are you saying this?" John asked them brokenly as Sherlock and Lexi turned back to look down at him.

"We're fakes," Sherlock told him, his voice breaking.

"Lexi, Sherlock ...," John said, trailing off as he didn't know what else to say.

"The newspapers were right all along. We want you to tell Lestrade; we want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that we created Moriarty for our own purposes," Sherlock told him, his voice sounding tearful.

"We just wanted to be important, the great detectives, but it got out of hand. The lie got to be too much for us to be able to continue," Lexi told him, her voice thick again and John could tell that she was crying now.

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, Lexi, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you two knew all about my sister, right?" John asked them getting angrily that they would even be saying this to him.

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock told him and John shook his head slightly as he stared up at them.

"You two could," John told them and Sherlock and Lexi laughed as they gazed down at their friend, a tear dripping from each of their chins.

"We researched you. Before we met we discovered everything that we could to impress you," Sherlock said and he sniffed quietly.

"We wanted to impress you because we knew that if you believed everyone else would too," Lexi told him, shaking her head as she spoke thickly, her voice catching slightly.

"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," Sherlock told John who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head repeatedly.

"No. All right, stop it now," John told them as he started to walk towards the hospital entrance, determined to go and stop them before they did anything drastic.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock told John urgently and John stopped and backed up, holding his hand up to Sherlock and Lexi in capitulation.

"All right," John told them, doing whatever he could to keep them from moving. Breathing rapidly, Sherlock had his own hand stretched out towards his friend, Lexi taking the phone from him in her free hand.

"Keep your eyes fixed on us," Sherlock told him, his voice becoming frantic. "Please, will you do this for us?" Sherlock asked him.

"John please," Lexi pleaded with him. "For us, just keep your eyes on us," Lexi said quickly, her voice trembling.

"Do what?" John asked them in confusion as he stared up at them with his mouth open.

"This phone call – it's, er ... it's our note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked him and John shook his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he was beginning to understand hit him, then he raised it again, his voice shaky.

"Leave a note when?" John asked them his voice broken.

"Goodbye, John," Sherlock and Lexi told him in unison their voices both calm.

"No. Don't," John told them urgently, shaking his head. Sherlock and Lexi gazed down at John for several seconds before Lexi lowered her arm and dropped the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of themselves. John lowered his own phone and screamed upwards. "No. SHERLOCK! LEXI!" John screamed as he watched Sherlock and Lexi turn towards each other. They wrapped their arms around each other before they pitched sideways off of the roof together, and plummeted towards the ground, clinging to each other. John stared in utter horror. "Lexi…Sher...," John said as a couple of seconds later their bodies impacted with the ground.

John's hearing whited out as his entire body focused on getting to Sherlock and Lexi as soon as he could. They couldn't be…there was still a chance they weren't…. Sherlock and Lexi had disappeared from view towards the end of their fall because a building was in the way of John's view of them, and John now ran to the corner of the building, then slowed down and stopped in the middle of the road when he got his first glimpse of the still figures lying on the wet pavement, the lower part of their bodies obscured by a lorry parked at the roadside. Behind John, a young man on a fast pedal cycle slammed into him and sent him crashing to the ground, his head hitting the asphalt hard. Groaning, he struggled to stay conscious while, nearby, people began to run towards the bodies on the pavement. The lorry pulled away and a couple of medics from the hospital hurried out and started trying to prevent the onlookers from getting too close. Grimacing with pain, John rolled onto his side and looked across to the pavement where Sherlock and Lexi were lying on their sides, their limbs tangled together. They were still holding hands and they had a lot of blood under their heads which had fallen next to each other. Lexi's red hair was soaking up the blood as it fanned out around her hair like a halo, covering Sherlock's chest slightly. Slowly John hauled himself to his feet and stumbled towards them as more onlookers gathered, talking excitedly about what they saw. John forced himself onwards his only thoughts about getting to them.

"Sherlock, Lexi, Sherlock, Lexi...," John repeated in a whisper as he reached the crowd. "I'm a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please," John said, his voice unsteady as some of the crowd tried to hold him back but he pushed through them. "No, they're my friends. They're my friends. Please," John told them as he reached down to their joined hands, Lexi's left hand into that of Sherlock's her ring shining even in the low lighting. He took a hold of their wrists, searching for a pulse. A woman peeled his fingers off and she and another person pulled him away. As he reached towards his friends again, more medics arrives with two wheeled stretchers. "Please, let me just ..." John said frantically but the impact of the shock and the bang on his head began to take effect and his knees gave out. As he slumped to the floor supported by a couple of onlookers, four people gently rolled Sherlock and Lexi onto their backs revealing their blood stained faces and wide staring eyes. John groaned in utter despair. "Nggh, Jesus, no," John said as he tried to stand but sank back again. "God, no," John said and as the onlookers supported him a team of eight people lifted Sherlock and Lexi's bodies onto the stretchers and then rapidly wheeled them away into the hospital. John stared after it, his face blank and uncomprehending. He finally managed to get to his feet and shake off his helpers, staring blindly in the direction that his friends' bodies were taken.

In a nearby building, a rifle sight was aimed directly at John's head. As John continued to stand in profile to the sniper, a perfect target, the assassin lifted his gun back inside the window and began to disassemble the weapon. Packing it into his bag, he stood up and walked away. The deed had been done.

The day after the Fall in the Diogenes Club, Mycroft was sitting in one of the chairs in the common room, Joanna sitting on the floor at his feet, her back resting up against his legs as she hugged her own to her chest. The other men of the club had come to realize that she wasn't leaving and now they didn't question her presence there. Mycroft held a copy of "The Sun" in his hands and its headline screamed "SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUSES" and the straplines stated "SUPER-SLEUTHS ARE DEAD" and "Fraudulent detectives take their own lives". Folding the paper and putting it down on the table beside him, he stared blankly into the distance and then folded his hands in front of his face in the prayer position. Joanna looked back at him before standing and reaching for his hands. She looked down at him and took them into her own before he allowed her to pull him to standing. She pulled him back to their office together and shut the door before wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. Mycroft sighed heavily and stroked her hair allowing himself to let her comfort him.

The day after the Fall, John sat in his armchair, dressed but with his feet bare and tucked together in front of him. One hand was propping up his head and he gazed into the distance, lost and alone. Both of his friends were dead and no one even knew that they had been engaged. Only him and now they were gone, Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna were dead exactly as Moriarty wanted.

**John's POV**

**The Present. Ella's office. **

As the rain continues to pour down, John gazed blankly at his therapist.

"There's stuff that you wanted to say ...," Ella said as John opened his mouth briefly but then closed it. "...but didn't say it."

"Yeah," John told her, his voice breaking.

"Say it now," Ella told him calmly.

"No," John told her and he shook his head. "Sorry. I can't," He told her not ready to say it, at least not to her.

John and Mrs. Hudson were sitting in the back of a cab, Mrs. Hudson holding a bunch of flowers, as it drove into a graveyard in the village that Sherlock grew up in, a place where Sherlock and Lexi had both been buried at Mycroft's behest as it was what he knew they would have wanted. John knew Lexi would want to be buried with Sherlock and not in Ireland as there was no one there anymore for her. Not long afterwards, they stood beside each other in front of a black marble headstone and the white marble headstone that was right next to it. The flowers were now resting at the base of each of headstones.

"There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school," Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at John. "Would you ...?" Mrs. Hudson asked him, trailing off when she saw his expression.

"I can't go back to the flat again – not at the moment," John told her and she took his arm sympathetically. "I'm angry," John told her and he took a deep breath through his nose, trying not to break down. She gently patted his arm.

"It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel and only she could ever manage him when he was in one of his moods," Mrs. Hudson told him as she gazed at the smooth black and white headstones which simply bared the words SHERLOCK HOLMES and ALEXANDRIA MACKENNA. "All the marks on my table; and the noise – firing guns at half past one in the morning!" Mrs. Hudson said and John nodded once and said, "Yeah" before she continued. "Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine – keeping bodies where there's food!" Mrs. Hudson said and John said, "Yes" and then closed his eyes as she continued, her own voice breaking. "And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on. And she was the only one that could manage to get him to listen," Mrs. Hudson said and John turned to her.

"Yeah, listen, I-I'm not actually that angry, okay?" John told her as he put his hand on her arm comfortingly.

"Okay," Mrs. Hudson said and she turned away from him, pulling her arm free of his. "I'll leave you alone to, erm ..." Mrs. Hudson said and her voice broke again. "...you know," She said and crying, she walked away, fishing out a tissue to blow her nose. John looked down at the graves, drawing in a deep breath. He looked back over his shoulder to see that Mrs. Hudson was now out of earshot, then turned back to the graves again.

"Um ... mmm," John hummed thoughtfully before he pulled himself together a little. "You ... you told me once that you weren't a hero and Lexi, she corrected you. Umm ... there were times I didn't even think you two were human, but let me tell you this, you were the best man and woman, and the most human ... human beings that I've ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you two told me a lie, and so ... There," John said, finally saying what he wanted to say but couldn't at the time. He blew out a breath, whimpering slightly. Looking over his shoulder again, he walked over to the headstones and put his fingertips onto the top of each one. "I was so alone, and I owe you two so much," John said, taking a tearful breath. "Okay," John said and he turned and started to walk away but only reached the foot of their graves before he turned back again. "No, please, there's just one more thing, mates, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, Lexi, for me. Don't ... be ...," John said his voice breaking and filling with tears "…dead. Would you do...? Just for me, just stop it," John said and he gestured down at their graves. "Stop this," John said and he sighed and lowered his head and stood there, broken. He lowered his head further, covered his eyes with one hand, and wept. Finally he wiped his eyes, sniffed deeply, and raised his head, coming to attention in front of his best friends. Nodding in salute to them and giving himself permission to dismiss, he turned smartly on one heel and then walked away.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I stood some distance away under a tree together obscured from view by the other headstones. Sherlock had an arm around my waist and I leaned back into him, tearful as we watched our best friend walk across the graveyard until he disappeared from view.

"Are you ready?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded as I brought my hand up and wiped my eyes as a few tears escaped.

"Always," I told him, smiling through my tears and sniffling slightly. "Where will we start first?" I asked him as I looked up at him.

"I was thinking China," Sherlock told me and I nodded as I hugged him tightly.

"Alright then," I told him before I looked over my shoulder in the direction John had walked off in.

"Do you think he'll ever forgive us?" Sherlock asked me and I could hear the note of nervousness in his voice.

"Of course he will. He is John after all," I told him, smiling sadly before I sighed and looked back up at Sherlock. "Our blogger. Come on then, we best get going," I told Sherlock, taking his hand in mine as I pulled back from him. He nodded at me once before we took one look back at where John had walked off looking reflective for a long moment. We turned then and headed off in the opposite direction. We didn't know what was going to happen and we didn't know where this would take us but we were together and as long as we were together we would be fine. We would make it out of this and we would return to London, but first we had some work to do. It was Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna against the rest of the world, but we would come back for our John Watson and London had best be ready for us when we did.


	84. Many Happy Returns

**So as a little gift for my birthday you all get Many Happy Returns which I wrote before I even started season two or Reichenbach and you also get the oneshot Good Morning Mrs. Holmes. Today I turn 17 and it has been 10 fantastic months of Lock and Lexi and 300 favourites later and I couldn't be you see what I did there, posting Many Happy Returns on my Birthday. That's luck right there, almost as if I planned it to happen. I didn't but hey maybe I am Moffat or Mycroft or both. Thank you sweeties though for making it a smashing ten months! Have some more Reichenbach feels while I go and be one with my Moffat self and dance with my umbrella as I eat cake. I have to get up and go to school though so...not really a day but I digress. Thank you John and Matt for your gifts. That hat is lovely. It's a death frisbee how could it not be? And thank you to my many well wishers. - Melody  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 82- Many Happy Returns<strong>

**Warning: This chapter is the most brutal and emotional chapter I have ever written and if I make you cry I am terribly sorry as I cried myself writing it. The POV changes around a lot as does the time span. I do however mark any flashbacks and the time switches so it should be easy enough to follow. Most is from Anderson's POV then switching to Lexi's as she narrates what happened to them and then to John's POV at the end of the chapter. Anderson has a few flash backs to things too. Should be straight forward. I'm sorry for any tears this might cause you, but it had to be done, you needed to know, just how important Sherlock and Lexi are to me. Characters have a life of their own and Lexi and her Baker Street boys will forever have a place in my heart. I fell in love with Sherlock Holmes the first time I read A Study in Scarlett and he is a character that I keep coming back to. Without further ado, eliminate the impossible, do the improbable. –M.M.**

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub.**

Philip Anderson had finally convinced Lestrade to meet with him. The former Forensics' officer had, since Sherlock and Lexi's deaths, been combing through news stories from all over the globe after one little news story had caught his eye. It started off small and then the signs kept getting bigger and bigger. Soon, Anderson wasn't the only one thinking it and he had started the group called the Empty Hearse which overnight sprung up internationally. You see, Philip Anderson was convinced that Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna were still alive. No one was willing to listen to him, even if he had proof to show them. He had tried to go to John Watson but the former army doctor had thrown him out of Baker Street none to gently. Anderson had never seen one man more enraged before. He was told by both Mycroft Holmes and Joanna Reyer that under no circumstances was he to ever try to contact John Watson again. So Anderson bided his time. If he had one person he needed to convince it was Gregory Lestrade which was why he was currently sitting with him in the Auld Dubliner at a table by the window. Anderson had started frequenting Lexi's go to pub after the Fall, getting to know the owner and his sons who told him stories about Lexi when he asked. Anderson was starting to realize just how wrong he had been about the two detectives. It was partially his guilt over the part that he had played in their deaths that him so convinced that somehow Lexi and Sherlock were alive.

They had to be. They were smart. If anyone could escape death it would be the two of them. There were also some things that Anderson had also found out after what he called the Fall, that offered further evidence that the two detectives were still alive and reasonably well. He had first become suspicious about Sherlock and Lexi's deaths when one of the detectives in Lestrade's department had quit the day after the Fall. Everyone else was convinced that it was due to shock or grief, but Anderson knew that the officer hadn't known either of the detectives well so that explanation made no sense at all. Anderson had quoted Sherlock in that moment, people saw, but did not observe. So, Anderson decided to use one of Lexi's skills and had hacked into the former detective's computer. He found several highly encrypted emails which when deciphered brought the entire thing to light. The detective had been a sniper planted by this Moriarty guy to kill Lestrade. Anderson couldn't just take the emails to Lestrade as proof though because technically they were illegally obtained. Then he had been fired because of his constant ramblings about how they had survived and were just playing with them all. Anderson had devoted his time to searching for answers as he tried to work out what exactly happened on the rooftop of Bart's after that. The first news story that had caught his eye had made his blood run cold as he discovered that he was right. After that it was easy enough to track them if you knew what you should be looking for. So, Anderson sat next to the Detective Inspector with a map laid out on the table in front of them as well as half drunken pints. Greg was wearing a shirt and jacket, and Anderson had a beard now and was wearing an oatmeal knitted jumper that closely resembled one that John Watson favoured.

"They're alive," Anderson started and like he sort of expected the Detective Inspector fixed him with a look of exasperation and mild anger. Lestrade had been close to Lexi and Sherlock. John suffered the most from their deaths, but Lestrade had also heavily mourned them. In truth, a lot of people had mourned their deaths. The funeral for Sherlock and Lexi had been one of the most heart-breaking things he had ever witnessed if Anderson was being honest. Pretty much everyone who had ever known them to some capacity had gone. Anderson and Donovan had gone to pay their respects. John Watson was a strong man. He quietly cried through the entire funeral and spoke about his friends with such conviction that it easy to see how close they had been.

**Flashback**

John Watson stood, holding back his tears as he stood in front of the masses of people who had come for Sherlock and Lexi's funeral. The army doctor felt hallow. It had been four days since his two best friends had jumped off a roof together and committed suicide. The press were calling them frauds but John could never believe that. There was no way that they could have ever been frauds. Lexi would have been surprised by how many people were there. Everyone from the Yard had attended as had practically everyone that had known Lexi. Fergus, Conor, and Murphy were sitting towards the back. A group from the FBI had come and were sitting towards the middle. Apparently they had worked with Lexi on a case before. Liz the odd pathologist was sitting with them. A lot of Sherlock's contacts were in attendance, including some members of his Homeless Network. Mycroft sat at the front with Joanna and another woman sat with them, a Mary Morstan who John learnt was the Mary Lexi had mentioned before. In the second row were the four members of the flight crew from MJN Air and out of everyone there besides John, Joanna, and Mycroft, they might have been faring the worst, especially Arthur.

It was a sad day for the crew of MJN Air when they woke up one morning to the news that Sherlock and Lexi were dead. Carolyn had surprised everyone by cancelling the next few flights. Martin was crushed as was Douglas. Both men had come to care for the two detectives greatly especially with Lexi calling MJN every so often to check up with them. She always played games with them over the satcom, Sherlock joining in from time to time. The games were always far more enjoyable when she was joining in and she was rather good at them with her eidetic memory and aviation knowledge of course Douglas refused to play "Beat the Manuals" if Lexi was also playing. Carolyn had grown very fond of the younger woman as had Arthur and Lexi was very fond of Arthur in return. Arthur was beyond distraught. He had asked his Mum in that typical Arthur way of his if Sherlock and Lexi had been trying to fly and if so, why hadn't they just come to see them because they could have helped them. Carolyn hadn't had the heart to tell them that Sherlock and Lexi had actually jumped off of the roof by choice. He didn't need to know things like that. Arthur had locked himself in his room after that and refused to come out since the news. Carolyn only managed to coax him out three days later with Martin and Douglas' help. They travelled down to London for the detectives' funerals as soon as they heard from Martin's cousin of when it was going to be. So with heavy hearts, Arthur sobbing, and the rest of the crew of MJN Air shedding tears for the lost detectives, they sat there listening as the army doctor stood in front of all of the people in attendance, ready to give his eulogy which he had agreed to give at the last minute, not knowing if he was going to be able to, but he owed Sherlock and Lexi that much. When he spoke, his voice was strong, but it wouldn't last long.

"Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna were the two greatest… greatest people I have ever had the fortune of knowing," John said, looking down as he felt the lump forming thickly in his throat. "Often time's people called them freaks, but they were far from that. They were brilliant and the most extraordinary people you would ever meet. If you did meet Sherlock you probably would have been pissed at him within seconds," John said with a sad chuckle as everyone managed to get out a small laugh despite their own tears. "Lexi however could combat Sherlock's rudeness and make him half way civil, a job that I think should earn her a sainthood. The three of us met by chance. All three of us needed a flat mate. I met Lexi first…," John said swallowing thickly again before continuing. "Can never forget that day. She was the strangest girl I had ever met in my life and I had no idea what to make of her. Then I met Sherlock. I was completely floored by the two of them and I half expected someone to jump out and tell me that it was all a prank, but it wasn't. They were Sherlock and Lexi and they were honestly that good. They dragged me to a crime scene within hours of knowing them and they had me running across London and chasing serial killers with them," John said, shaking his head fondly at the memory. "I'll never forget when Sherlock later told me how Lexi was making sarcastic comments about the suspense killing her more than the serial killer. That was Lexi though, she always managed to brighten a situation no matter how bad it was. I moved in with them and Sherlock and Lexi had me solving cases with them. Lexi started calling us her Baker Street boys and we were in all honesty," John said, his voice breaking slightly as he remembered Lexi laughing as she slung her arms over his and Sherlock's shoulders as they left the Yard after a case. "Lexi was the glue that bonded the three of us together. Without her I probably would have ended up killing Sherlock," John said, regretting his words immediately. "He was a great man, but somehow finding fingers dissolving in acid in your coffee cup in the morning has a way of ruining any good will you have towards someone," John said cleaning up what he said and making everyone laugh slightly again. "Through working cases together, Sherlock and Lexi developed a strong bond, one that was more than simply friendship. That was clear when Lexi got herself kidnapped by a murderer. I've never seen someone's eyes take on as much intensity as Sherlock's had in that moment. Lexi was a magnet for danger. I later found out that she had a sword fight with an assassin in the middle of our flat. She won too," John added and everyone nodded, knowing that that was Lexi. "She protected Sherlock and I, saved the life of a Chinese girl during that case, and even saved my life again when we were kidnapped by members of a Tong. That was always Lexi, protecting Sherlock and I, from criminals and from ourselves. Then we faced Moriarty together. He was real. He had to be because if you saw just how much Lexi was afraid of this one man, you could never think otherwise. But despite her fear, Lexi protected us once again and like always she got badly hurt for her troubles," John said, sighing heavily. A little bit of the weight on his chest had lifted slightly. Talking about them made it easier, as if they were suddenly going to stroll into their own funeral. Sherlock would tell John to stop being an idiot and so sentimental and Lexi would have glared at him and probably smacked him upside the back of his head. It made it easier to think of them as still there. In truth, he could currently see the two detectives standing beside him as he spoke. He kept seeing them since their deaths. "I thought we were going to lose Lexi," John said next as the mental version of Lexi he was seeing tilted her head to the side and nodded slightly as if giving her permission to speak about it. "There was this case, the case of the Woman. I had never seen Lexi like that before, after Sherlock and Irene met. She looked completely broken. Sherlock was a git like always. He knew something was wrong, but he was afraid to actually talk to her. It took her taking off to America after the case finished for him to realize how much he loved her. He finally said it too, properly said it. We fought the hound at Baskerville together. I should have seen it… should have known…," John said, trailing off as the tears threatened to fall. He should have realized that they were engaged after that case. It was so blindingly obvious. She had started wearing the chain around her neck. He had even caught sight of the ring a few times but he had never put two and two together. They were hiding it because they knew they had to. They knew Moriarty would try to use it against them and he had. "I should have seen…," John said again, breaking down. "No one will ever be able to convince me that what they told me was a lie," John said firmly, getting control of his emotions when mental Lexi put her hand on his arm, Sherlock wrapping his arm around her waist. It was almost as if John could actually feel her hand, it had a comforting weight that screamed that she was alive. "I know that Moriarty was real and Sherlock and Lexi were not frauds. They were the greatest…the greatest friends anyone could have and two of the greatest people who have ever lived and I will miss them more than they will ever know," John finished, knowing he couldn't hold it back any longer. He stepped off the podium, the tears running freely down his face and he returned to his seat next to Lexi's friend Mary who put a comforting arm around his shoulders which John felt himself leaning into, accepting whatever comfort was given to him.

The entire group watched as Sherlock and Lexi's coffins were lowered into the ground. They had been buried next to each other. John was adamant that they were and Mycroft agreed. As it turned out, he was the only other one that knew that they had been engaged. Sherlock's parents weren't in attendance and neither was Lexi's father but John had been expecting that. The only thing to mark the place of where the two greatest people who had ever lived were buried were two simple tombstones. Sherlock's was black granite and said only his name while Lexi's was a simple white marble and said her name along with a quote, "If it's time to go, remember what you're leaving. Remember the best. Our friends have always been the best of us." Mycroft said nothing to John about the quote when he had seen it, but the look in Mycroft's eye told him it was Lexi's own words.

**End of Flashback**

"Oh for God's sakes! They're dead Anderson. We've already been over this," Lestrade said, drawing Anderson back to present and out of his thoughts about the consulting detectives' funeral.

"No I have proof! Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna are alive," Anderson insisted as Lestrade looked at him as if he was ready to interrupt him and Anderson quickly continued. "No…no look. Just look," Anderson pleaded with the D.I. as he pulled the map open and spread it out fully on the table. Lestrade looked at him for a long moment before giving him a curt nod. "One month after the Fall…," Anderson said, pausing when Lestrade gave him a look about the name he had given the event. "…one month after the Fall came the first sighting in the Case of the Withered Lotus. The police in China were tipped off by anonymous sources to the location of the hideout of the notorious smugglers group the Black Lotus, the same group from the Blind Banker case," Anderson said before Lestrade cut him off.

"Anderson…," Lestrade said looking sceptical as Anderson pointed to the map. This case was the one that had first caught his eye because of the connection to the two detectives. All the police would say about the anonymous sources was that one had been exceedingly tall and the other had exceedingly red hair. It was the case that had got him started, hoping that Sherlock and Lexi were alive.

**Lexi's POV**

**One month after the Fall… **

The first place Sherlock and I went was China. We knew of the Black Lotus' connection to Moriarty and that was where we were going to start. It took us a while to get there as we had to travel in secret. Mycroft and Joanna helped us when they could but we had to keep contact with them to a minimum. We stole when we had too and found abandoned buildings to sleep in. When we got to China Sherlock and I got to know the homeless people. My knowledge of multiple languages came in handy. We gained the trust of the homeless people and they helped us and sheltered us with them. They even helped be our eyes and ears around the city and told us everything they knew about the Black Lotus and the location of their hideout. The Tong had been trying to recruit from the streets for years. It was in China that I got my undercover name. The children were enraptured with Sherlock and I and we would entertain them with our deductions. They were very interested in my hair, having never seen hair the colour of mine before. They sat, braiding my hair and weaving beads and feathers into it. Sherlock and I left the safety one night to implement our plan. We found the hideout and watched them before making our move. We found the leader of the Black Lotus that had taken over after General Shan's death and from General Tai Kwon we learnt where some more of Moriarty's ties were. It was easy enough to get him to talk after Sherlock and I paid him our visit. We used methods that would horrify others, but then again we were not working with Lestrade anymore. When we returned to the homeless community that night after watching the local police storm the Black Lotus' hideout, they greeted us as heroes. For once they were free to move about the city without the fear of being press ganged into joining the Tong. They gave me the name Youxia which meant wandering force. They called us their guardian angels. We stayed in China for several more days before we moved on to the next location. There and then gone, we moved like ghosts and stayed in the shadows.

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub.**

"No, there's more," Anderson insisted quickly and Lestrade sighed in exasperation as Anderson pointed to a second spot marked on his map. "The next sighting, A Case of Identity…."

**Third Person POV**

**Three months after the Fall…**

In a monastery in the mountains of the Himalayas, a Buddhist monk lit the last of many small white candles. Close by, several monks were kneeling side by side, their heads covered by cowls and their hands raised in front of them. Another monk, apparently the abbot, came into the large tent, his head also hidden under a cowl, and hobbles towards them, followed by a shorter monk whose face was completely covered by their hood. The abbot hobbled forward and worked his way along the row, running his hands quickly over each monk's head, murmuring, "Tashi delek," and then briefly clasping his hands. When the two monks reached the last monk in the row the abbot reached towards that monk's head but paused for a couple of seconds, then reached towards the cowl and flipped it up to reveal a blonde woman. She glared up at him.

"You bastard!" The woman said and the other monks, all men, pulled their own cowls back and stared in surprise at the abbot. He began to raise his head, his face still in shadow and a very feminine laugh came from the monk standing beside the abbot who turned to look at the monk in question.

"Oh, he's been called far worse before," The monk said as he lowered his own cowl and revealed that he was actually a she. The monks looked even more surprised to find another woman in their midst, this one with red hair of a fiery copper shade unlike anything they had ever seen before that had many braids in it which were adorned with Tibetan and Chinese beads. "By the way, the monk look is rather sexy love," The girl said scandalously and the abbot let out a deep baritone chuckle and the mysterious girl laughed heartily, a sound that made every one of the monks smile as it sounded like prayer bells.

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub.**

"A breakaway sect of Buddhist warrior monks infiltrated by a blonde drug smuggler?! That never really happened!" Greg said in exasperation as he stared at Anderson in disbelief at what he had just told him.

"A-A blonde drug smuggler who was exposed by an abbot with unusual powers of observation and deduction who was also in the company of a red headed woman with hair the colour of fire and possessed a laugh that sounded like bells!" Anderson countered. It was too obvious. The girl fit Lexi's description to the letter as the description of the abbot fit Sherlock. The girl also was said to have made some rather scandalous comments to the abbot which the monks would not repeat.

"A blonde woman hiding amongst bald monks? That wouldn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," Greg told him, not believing a word Anderson was saying.

"Well, perhaps it did," Anderson argued and Lestrade looked at him, knowing he had to be blunt.

"They're dead," Greg told Anderson who looked at him with a hurt expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I wish they weren't, but they really are dead and gone," Greg finished and Anderson looked away from him.

"Well, how d'you explain this then?" Anderson asked Greg as he pulled the map of the world towards himself and pointed at a red cross drawn above New Delhi. "One month later, sighting number three, the Incident at New Delhi," Anderson told him and Greg looked at him, appalled.

"You haven't been titling these?" Greg asked him and Anderson threw him a nervous look which told Greg everything he needed to know.

**Third Person POV**

**Four months after the Fall…**

Photographers were taking pictures of a police inspector sitting at a table with a couple of his colleagues either side of him at a press conference in New Delhi. Many microphones we're set up on the table in front of him and he smiled smugly at his audience.

"After that it was simply a matter of tracking down the killer, which I did by working out the depth to which the chocolate Flake had sunk into the victim's ice-cream cone," Inspector Prakesh said as he chuckled contentedly as the photographers and reporters crowded closer to the table.

Shortly afterwards he left the room while the photographers continued trying to get one last picture. Closing the door behind him, he looked at the two people waiting a little way down the corridor in front of him.

"My friends!" Prakesh said as he looked over his shoulder to make sure that nobody was looking through the round glass window in the door, then turned back to the two people in front of him. "Will you not take any of the credit? This was all down to you two," Prakesh said and the girl with the long braided hair shook her head quickly.

"No, we'll leave the credit to you," She told him as the man beside her wearing a greatcoat took her hand.

"Don't speak a word of our involvement," The curly, dark haired man warned him darkly before they both turned on their heels and walked away together, the girl pulling a traditional Indian headdress over her head, obscuring her face and her hair which was such a distinctive shade of red that it would be hard to ever forget.

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub.**

"Clever man, Inspector Prakesh," Lestrade said and Anderson looked back at him in exasperation. Was Lestrade actually listening to him?

"Oh, for ...! What police inspector could have made that deduction?" Anderson scoffed and Greg looked at him, affronted.

"Oh, thank you!" Lestrade told him sarcastically, feeling highly offended.

"You remember how Sherlock and Lexi never took the credit when they solved all of your cases?" Anderson asked him and Greg immediately jumped to his own defence.

"They didn't solve all of my cases!" Greg told him indignantly as Anderson gazed into the distance thoughtfully.

"They're out there. They're hiding. But they can't stop themselves from getting involved," Anderson told him, chuckling. "It's so obviously them, if you know how to spot the signs!" Anderson continued as Greg ignored what he was saying.

"The Klein Brothers, the Tower House thing, the Kensington Ripper – I solved all those myself!" Lestrade told him and Anderson gave him a pointed look.

"Well, you got Tower House wrong," Anderson pointed out and Lestrade interrupted him immediately.

"No I didn't!" Greg cried in exasperation and Anderson nodded at him.

"Yep, you did," Anderson told him as he folded his map out to another location.

**Lexi's POV**

**Eight months after the Fall…**

Sherlock and I had taken far more time in New Delhi than we originally planned, spending a total of three months there. We hit a bit of a dead end following any leads on Moriarty's web, but we finally picked it up again, heading to Cairo next. Sherlock and I walked through the markets, holding hands and taking a mild break before we had to go at night fall to break into the compound where the members of Moriarty's web were hiding. It was here in Cairo that the Homeless Network had given Sherlock the nickname of Shezza which meant light or radiance. Sherlock had taken to calling me Youxia or just Xia as we couldn't risk our names being over heard. I had been calling him Sher because of it. We found out on our travels about some international group called the Empty Hearse which had started in London. Apparently it was a group of fans of us who believed that we were still alive. It made hiding harder so we changed clothes frequently and covered our faces, sticking mostly to the shadows. Every place we travelled to we met the homeless people. They were truly dispensable for knowledge, knowing the city better than anyone else. My hair was shorter now, no longer falling to my hips, but part way up my back. We had gotten into a spot of trouble and part of my hair had been cut off in the ensuing fight so I had just cut it all to one length. Sherlock was sad to see me lose any of my hair. He was far more attached to it than I was however. I still braided it with beads and things I picked up on our travels. I grinned as we passed by a merchants stall and I let go of Sherlock's hand and picked up the fez I had spotted. I brought it back to Sherlock and popped it on top of his unruly curls which had grown out a lot in the last eight months. He kept his hair longer though as it made him harder to recognize.

"You should wear a fez. Fezzes are cool," I told Sherlock as he looked at me unamused and I giggled before I reached up on my toes and he leaned down slightly so that I could kiss him soundly. One thing I was infinitely glad about was that I had Sherlock by my side. I already knew that I wouldn't have survived a month without him by my side. After Egypt we went to Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungry, and Belarus as we worked our way around the globe, taking out Moriarty's web one country at a time.

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub.**

"They went quiet for a long time after New Delhi. No trace of them at all for nearly a year. It's like they completely disappeared, fell off the face of the Earth. I think something must have happened to them during that time, something big. But, then they suddenly returned in sighting number four, the Tuscan Valley Mystery."

**Lexi's POV**

**Seventeen months after the Fall…**

Sherlock and I were in Italy and had just solved a case in Tuscany that involved poisoned wine and a great deal of other stuff. After the case was solved, Sherlock and I found a small town out of the way to take a bit of a break in, Sherlock claiming it was our honeymoon. We hadn't been married long, but nothing felt as if it had really changed between us, except for the fact that we were closer. The last seventeen months had been brutal and Sherlock and I had grown to heavily depend and rely upon each other. We protected each other fiercely. We only had each other and now everything we did was a matter of life and death. Mycroft and Joanna managed to send us some money so we were able to buy new clothes as ours were worn and had been patched up so many times and we were also able to get a room at a small inn and actually get properly cleaned up and sleep in an actual bed. Sherlock stood beside me in the bathroom as I looked in the mirror. My hair had quickly grown out again from the little accident I had where I needed to cut most of my hair off so I wouldn't be recognized as it did grow very quickly and it now reached down to my shoulders again which Sherlock was happy about. I had taken to braiding beads into it again, including a very beautiful one that Sherlock had found for me on our travels which was made of a mossy green stone that reminded me of Ireland. Sherlock's hair had grown out considerably and was almost down to his shoulders. He had a bit of beard which he was taking care of in the mirror beside me. You could tell how much our travels had taken a toll on us. We had both lost weight and our eyes had dark purple bruises under them from lack of sleep. We were moving steadily closer back to London and we predicted that within the next year we might be able to finally go home. Moriarty's web was far larger than we originally expected. We weren't losing faith though. We had each other, and we had something to fight for, because we had an army doctor to get back to and we weren't going to let him down by not coming home. I leaned over and kissed Sherlock soundly as soon as he finished wiping the bit of shaving cream left over off of his face and I let him hold me as we clung to each other, taking comfort in the beating of each other's hearts which had become the best sound in the universe.

**Anderson's POV**

**The Present. Pub. **

"Then they show up again after that, this time in Germany, in sighting number five…," Anderson told Lestrade as he tapped Hamburg on the map. "...the Mysterious Jurors," Anderson continued as the Detective Inspector literally head-desked, thumping his forehead down onto the table.

**Third Person POV**

**Nineteen months after the Fall…**

In a jury room, the male foreman rubbed his head tiredly before addressing the rest of the jury in German. "Nun, wie wir alle wissen, wurde diese Jury unter höchst ungewöhnlichen Umständen zusammengerufen. Aber ich muss Sie jetzt auf ein Urteil drängen. Ist Herr Trephoff schuldig oder nicht schuldig am Mord seiner Frau? [As we all know this jury was convened under highly unusual circumstances, but now I must press you for a judgment. Is Herr Trepoff guilty or not guilty of the murder of his wife?]" One by one, the jurors answered him in German.

"Nicht schuldig. [Not guilty.]"The first female juror said as at the end of the table, the fingers of a male juror wearing a shirt and dark coat drummed impatiently on the table. The red headed female juror sitting next to him shooting him an amused look.

"Nicht schuldig," The second female jurors said.

"Nicht schuldig," Another male juror said as the juror at the end of the table continued to drum his fingers on the table, despite the eye roll the woman sitting closely next to him sent him.

"Nicht schuldig."

"Nicht schuldig."

"Nicht schuldig."

"Nicht schuldig."

Each juror answered as the fingers continued to drum.

"Nicht schuldig."

"Nicht schuldig."

"Nicht schuldig."

The other jurors answered as the girl sitting beside the man who was still drumming his fingers suddenly slapped his hand so that the drumming stopped. The foreman sighed wearily and looked at the last two jurors at the end of the table who had been nothing but trouble during the entire case. They had just shown up and were suddenly selected and kept muttering together and freaking out the other jurors when they gave each other odd looks as if they were communicating silently.

"Nun? [Well?]" The foreman asked them in an exasperated voice. The dark, curly haired man who was wearing a greatcoat with the collar popped, looked across to the woman sitting beside him, her hair slightly past her shoulders and had braided strands around her face with beads weaved through the braids. She was wearing a brown trench coat which hung a bit loosely on her but looked tailor made. She also had the collar popped. Both jurors looked back at the foreman and answered him in unison.

"Schuldig. [Guilty]."

Sometime later, a man walked across to a display of newspapers. The "CAM Global News" front page headline read "Trepoff 'Guilty' Sensation!" while a German newspaper beside it read "TREPOFF SCHULDIG!" [Trepoff guilty!]

**Third Person POV**

**The Present. Pub**

"For two months they must have stayed around Germany because there isn't any sightings of them until sighting number six, the Blue Carbuncle. Then three months later they show up in Ireland. Ireland Lestrade! Of all places they show up in Ireland in sighting number seven the Red Headed League. Witnesses specifically recall seeing a girl with fire red hair that fell past her shoulders in the company of a dark haired man. She spoke in a heavy thick Irish accent and she was speaking fluent Gaelic as was the man. I think she's probably been teaching him. It appears she cut her hair too but then again it is rather noticeable. It had to be them! There's no-one else it can be! Do you not see?" Anderson asked Lestrade in exasperation.

"I see that you lost a good job fantasising about a dead man and woman coming back to life, and I know why you want that to happen," Greg said, grimacing. "But it's never gonna,"Greg said and Anderson shook his head in defeat. "Okay ...," Greg said and he finished his pint. "... I'm gonna go and see an old friend," Greg told the man as he picked up his coat and looked across to Anderson. "You take care, okay?" Greg said as he stood and picked up a white box from a nearby stool, then looked down at his former colleague sympathetically. "I'll put a word in – see if they won't review your case."

"Just look at the map, though," Anderson told him as he gestured between each of the marked cities, from China to India, from New Delhi to Hamburg, onto Amsterdam, and Brussels, and then on to Ireland. "They're getting closer," Anderson said as he looked up at Greg. "It's like they're coming back," Anderson told him and Greg looked up thoughtfully for a minute, then nodded politely to Anderson and left the pub.

**John's POV**

John Watson walked across the living room of the house he shared with his girlfriend Mary and put the white box down on top of a filing cabinet. He hadn't been able to stay at Baker Street after the Fall. Every time he looked around the flat he could only imagine Lexi and Sherlock sitting there and hear ghostly echoes of Lexi's laugh and Sherlock's violin. He would look over at Sherlock's empty chair and just start crying all over again. John very nearly followed them, but then Mary had come into his life. She showed up at Baker Street one day and he had hid his gun quickly and she had taken him out of the flat and into the city as if someone had known what he was going to do. Afterwards she helped him move out of Baker Street. Mycroft and Lexi's friend Joanna paid to have Mrs. Hudson keep the flat the same as when John left it. John also saw Joanna a lot too, she never had Mycroft with her as John still refused to see him. John knew she worked with, not for him as she constantly reminded him. Between Mary, Lexi had been right in thinking he would like her, and Joanna's help, he was starting to heal. It had been two years though and he would still start breaking down whenever he saw something that reminded him of his best mates. The smell of peppermint or chemicals, the sound of violin music, he couldn't even watch Doctor Who anymore because it reminded him of when he and Lexi used to sit and watch it on the couch while Sherlock made comments from his chair occasionally. John took a deep breath before he turned and plastered a smile on his face as he looked back at Greg.

"It's good to see you, Greg," John told the Detective Inspector and Greg nodded back at him.

"And you," Lestrade told him and they shook hands.

"Have a seat," John offered and Lestrade sat down in an armchair.

"So, how've you been?" Lestrade asked him and John knew he was trying to be delicate about the subject.

"Er, yeah, good. Yeah. Much better," John told him as he sat down on the couch. His gun was locked up in the safe again anyway. Greg nodded and John pointed to the box Lestrade had brought him. "Er, so what's in the, er ...?"

"Oh, that, yeah. That's, er, that's some stuff from my office – some stuff of Sherlock and Lexi's, actually. I probably should have thrown it out, but I didn't know if...," Lestrade said as he looked awkwardly at John.

"No, fine, yeah," John answered him, trying to convince himself that it was fine and he smiled at Greg, who stood up and walked over to the box, smiling.

"Yeah, there's-there's-there's something here. Um, wasn't sure whether I should have kept it in," Lestrade told him as he took off the lid. Inside the box was a pink iPhone together with a box of nicotine patches, a small sheet of paper with some writing on it that looked like Lexi's neat script, a toy train engine, a yellow mask of a face and a DVD in a case. He took out the DVD. "You remember the video message they made for your birthday?" Lestrade asked him and John nodded. "Oh, I had to practically threaten him. Lexi did threaten him actually," Lestrade told him and John smiled a little at that. "This is the uncut version. It's quite funny," Lestrade told John, smiling as he handed the DVD to John.

"Oh, right," John said as he took it and looked at it for a long moment.

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought it," Lestrade said sounding slightly concerned.

"Don't worry. It's okay. Probably won't even watch it," John told him distractedly and they smiled awkwardly at each other, then John looked down at the DVD again.

Later after Greg had gone home, John was sitting in the armchair pouring himself a glass of whisky. He had gotten into drinking after Sherlock and Lexi's death to cope with the nightmares and whisky was the obvious choice. He could tell why Lexi used to drink it. Screwing the lid back on, he stood up and put the bottle away in a nearby cupboard, then sat down again, picked up the glass and took a drink. Gazing at the DVD on the table in front of him for a while, he eventually picked it up, looked thoughtfully across to the TV, then got up and walked across the room to put the disk into the player. It loaded and he walked back to get his glass. On the TV screen was the very familiar sight of the sofa in 221B Baker Street, with the smiley face sprayed on the wall behind it. John sat down on the sofa opposite the TV and took another drink.

"Was that supposed to happen – the light going down? Yeah, okay," Sherlock's voice came through on the video and on the screen, Sherlock paced across the living room in front of the sofa. Lexi suddenly came into view carrying a mug of tea and waved at the camera with a smile as she passed by. She gave Sherlock a fond look as she passed by him. "Oh, er, mmm. So, what do we, what do we, what d'you want us to do at the end?" Sherlock asked as he stopped and looked at Greg who was presumably behind the camera. "Shall I, um ...? Smile and wink. I do that sometimes. I've no idea why. People seem to like it – humanises me," Sherlock said, turning away as Lexi's giggle floated from off camera.

"Fine. Whatever," Lestrade told him from behind the camera as Lexi's head popped into view again.

"Just be you Lock. Besides, this is John, he knows how you are," Lexi told the consulting detective who looked over in her direction before turning back around.

"Why are we doing this, again?" Sherlock asked Lestrade and Lexi's giggle floated from off camera again.

"You're gonna miss the dinner," Lestrade told him in exasperation from behind the camera.

"Of course we're gonna miss dinner. There'll be people," Sherlock said as he started to turn away, then turned back. "How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him," Sherlock said before a hand suddenly shot onto the screen from off camera and slapped him round the back of the head.

"Ow! Woman will you stop that!?" Sherlock said, turning in Lexi's direction as the woman stepped onto camera, her arms crossed in front of her and one eyebrow raised at Sherlock.

"No, you're being rude," Lexi told him and John smiled very briefly at the look she was giving Sherlock as the consulting detective rubbed the back of his head.

"You only have to look at their faces to know I'm right," Sherlock told the Irish girl as she continued to stare back at him. "I wrote an essay on suppressed hatred in close proximity based entirely on his friends," Sherlock continued and John smiled again. Sherlock looked away thoughtfully. "On reflection, it probably wasn't a very good choice of gift," Sherlock said and Lexi sighed, shaking her head fondly at Sherlock as she uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, draping her arms around the detective's neck and looking up at him.

"Which is why I bought his birthday gifts. Hope you liked them John," Lexi said as she looked back at the camera with a grin. Sherlock looked down at the Irish girl for a moment before he pulled himself together and looked into the camera for a moment before looking past it to Greg.

"What was our excuse again?" Sherlock asked Greg over the top of Lexi's head which wasn't difficult as she was four inches shorter than he was.

"You said you had a thing," Lestrade told him in exasperation as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Lexi's waist.

"Ah, right, yes! That's right. A thing," Sherlock said before Lexi giggled and he told her to hush.

"You might wanna elaborate," Lestrade told them and Lexi and Sherlock both shook their heads.

"No, no, no. Only lies have detail," Sherlock told Greg as Lexi leaned back and grinned at the camera.

"Which is why I gave very little details when I broke into the Palace. Still my proudest moment. The look on Mycroft's face when he found out someone had gotten past his security," Lexi said with a grin on her face and a look of nostalgia. John closed his eyes and shook his head minutely as Sherlock stared intensely into the camera for a couple of seconds over Lexi's head

"Right, we just ... we need a moment to, um, figure out what we're going to do," Sherlock told Lestrade as he and Lexi walked over towards the window together, Lexi's arms now around Sherlock's middle, one of the detective's arms still wrapped tightly around her waist. John looked down at his glass.

"I can tell you what you two can do," John said as he lifted his glass. "You can stop being dead," John said as he took a drink.

"Okay," Sherlock said at the same time Lexi said "Alright" the both of them back in front of the camera and looking straight into it. John looked at the screen, startled, but Sherlock and Lexi had already walked away again. "Okay, we're ready now," Sherlock said as he sat down in his arm chair and settled into it before he pulled Lexi down onto his lap. She squealed and giggled as she righted herself and snuggled into him as he smirked down at her slightly. She shook her head fondly at him before they both looked into the camera. "Hello, John," Sherlock said with a smile as Lexi waved at the camera.

"Dia duit [Hello]," Lexi said in Gaelic and John shook his head slightly at that.

"We're sorry we're not there at the moment. We're very busy. However, many happy returns," Sherlock told him as Lexi snuggled deeper into Sherlock's side.

"May you always have walls for the winds, a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire, laughter to cheer you, those you love near you, and all your heart might desire," Lexi told him with a grin and John felt his heart clench painfully at her words. He did not have those he loved near him or anything his heart desired. "Sorry we couldn't be there John. You know what it's like though. This one always has us running all over the city," Lexi said as she pointed her thumb back at the consulting detective who raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm keeping him safe though. Well both be back in one piece, I promise," Lexi said and John's heart clenched painfully again. They hadn't come back in one piece.

"Oh, and don't worry," Sherlock added after Lexi had finished. "We're going to be with you again very soon," Sherlock said just as John's doorbell rang. He looked round, then sat forward, putting his glass on the table and pressing the Pause button on the remote control. The picture froze on Sherlock looking intensely into the camera, Lexi smiling knowingly as she looked at Sherlock. John stood up and walked out of the room.

**Third Person POV**

"They're coming back," Anderson said and in the pub he looked up and smiled to himself, then laughed quietly and looked down at the map, chuckling with delight.

Greg was walking along a road, intermittently looking down at his phone, but then stopped and stared at a man with a white beard standing nearby. The man was reading a copy of the Daily Express and the back page of the newspaper was facing towards Greg. It shows three footballers in the middle of a match, and the headline read, "THE GAME IS BACK ON!" Greg stared at the headline for a few seconds, then smiled cynically and walked into a nearby shop.

**John's POV**

Back in John's living room, the Pause button shifted to play on its own. Sherlock smiled widely into the camera and winked as Lexi giggled before shaking her head and the screen went blank. John came back into the living room carrying a small box which had been left on his door step and he opened it to find a mass of beads inside of it. Some had Chinese symbols carved into it and looked to be made of whale bone while others were wooden Tibetan beads. There were some stone, some wooden ones. One had an Ankh on it and another was a mossy green stone. They're had to be over a hundred beads in the box and they looked to be from all over the world. John rummaged around in it and found something else in the box, a necklace, a locket to be exact that had a bird engraved on it and the words beautiful bird engraved inside it. It was a locket John hadn't seen for two years that had gone missing. John dropped the box in shock and the beads spilled all over the floor, rolling every which way.

"Hello John," John heard and his head snapped up quickly as he heard Lexi's voice. He looked towards the door, his hand clenched over his heart as he felt like he was having a heart attack, but he saw no one there. He looked back at the TV to see that the DVD was now rolling a second video at the end of the first. Lexi was wearing pyjamas now and John could tell that it was night time out side by how dark it was in the room. Lexi was still sitting in Sherlock's chair and a soft light was illuminating her from behind. Sherlock was nowhere in sight however. "Sherlock doesn't know I've made this, but I had to. If you are watching this then Lestrade gave you the uncut version of the DVD. You are probably getting this far later than I expected though as Lestrade was probably unsure if you could handle it. If you are watching this then something has probably happened to Sherlock and I. Hope I didn't trip over a brick or something, but you know my track record," Lexi said with a watery smile as she had tears in her eyes before she sighed heavily and looked away from the camera as a gut wrenching sob wrecked through John. Lexi looked back at the camera and smiled sadly her eyes still watery as a single tear fell down her cheek. "We've left you and I'm sorry for that John, truly. I am so sorry," Lexi said as she wiped her eyes as a few more tears fell. At this point John was sobbing openly with no restraint. She knew. She knew there was a possibility that something was going to happen to them and she never said. "Sherlock has his own suspicions, but I know how Moriarty works. He sent us a message recently, asked us if we were ready to play his game again. I know it isn't going to end well John. Something is going to happen to one of us or both of us and we're going to be forced to leave you," Lexi said, shaking her head sadly. "Know that it is the last thing we ever want to do. You have saved us in so many ways John Watson and we owe you so much. I don't know if we'll get a chance to tell you, we've been busy lately with cases, but Sherlock and I got engaged," Lexi said with a slight grin as John managed to quite his sobbing down so that the tears were only flowing freely down his face. "We sort of have you to thank for that. You pushed us together and made us realize how big of idiots we were being. John, I know it won't be easy. I know you are going to have dark days, but know how much Sherlock and I love you. He'll never say it, but I know he does. He thinks of you as a brother as do I. Unfortunately this is one adventure that you can't come with us on John. You need to live. You need to be the brilliant John Watson I know you are. Be happy. Find the girl of your dreams and settle down and move on from us John. Don't dwell on sorrow, but look back on the time we had together fondly. Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right. Given the choice, I already know what Sherlock and I would choose. It does not do well to dwell on the past and forget to live John. So live and be happy and know that you were always the best of us. One day we shall come back, yes, we shall come back. Until then there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine. There are a lot of things you need in life John Watson, but the most important is a hand to hold. I won't say goodbye, I will say simply, until next time John," Lexi finished before she leaned forward and the camera shut off and the DVD turned off.

Mary would find John hours later, still crying on the couch, the beads all over the floor as he held onto Lexi's locket which she immediately recognized as having been the Irish girls. Neither of them were to know that something was happening all across London. In the night a plan was set into motion and with the rising dawn, the people of London would wake up to one message. Spray painted in a particular shade of yellow and ending with a recognizable smiley face was the graffiti tag **#NotDead**. Mycroft Holmes got calls in from all of his contacts at the same time as he saw the message himself, having it taken down just as quickly as it had been put up, the message appearing days before he left London on a special mission. Whispers had started amongst the homeless people of the city and that message was, an East Wind is blowing. Days later when the news finally broke that Richard Brook had been the invention of criminal mastermind Jim Moriarty, every single computer, tablet, television, and screen in all of London was mass hacked on a timed system and one message played all across the city at one moment, **Moriarty Was Real**. Two consulting detectives sat next to one another with their hands clasped tightly, their fingers linked together as they waited on the plane taking them back to London. They were both ready to drink in the city once again and their first priority was seeing a certain army doctor who had no idea that his whole life was about to change yet again.


	85. Theories and Delusions

**Hello Sweeties and welcome to the start of season three. Our detective's our returning and the chapters are longer than they were before. I am frantically working to catch up on Goldfish. I am headed off to a play in a few minutes but when I get home I will finish typing up the next chapter. Tomorrow the second one should be up and I will be working on several others this weekend and over this next week to fill the two year gap and catch Joanna and Mycroft back up so they are up to date with season three. Don't forget to check out Good Morning Mrs. Holmes and the Cabin Pressure one shot is now up and posted. Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty Three- Theories and Delusions<strong>

**Third Person POV**

In the street below, John's taxi pulled up. Sherlock took out his phone and selected a speed dial. The answering phone began to ring below him as John got out of the taxi and raised his phone to his ear as he trotted towards the hospital.

"Hello?" John answered.

"John," Sherlock said calmly into the phone which Sherlock had on speaker.

"Hey, Sherlock, you and Lexi okay?" John asked him quickly, feeling relieved to be hearing from one of them

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," Sherlock ordered him and John frowned slightly.

"No, I'm coming in," John told him and Lexi took in a deep breath beside Sherlock.

"Just do as I ask. Please," Sherlock told John frantically, his voice taking on an emotion that John had never heard before and that scared him slightly.

"Please John," Lexi said, her voice slightly thick and John took in a deep breath as he heard her voice come through the phone too.

"Where?" John asked them, turning back and looking around bewildered. Something wasn't right. Sherlock and Lexi paused for a moment while John walked back along the road, then Sherlock spoke urgently.

"Stop there," Sherlock ordered him and the army doctor did as he was told.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he heard only quiet breathing coming from the Irish girl over the phone.

"Okay, look up. We're on the rooftop," Sherlock told him and John turned and looked up, his face filling with horror as he saw the unmistakeable forms of Sherlock and Lexi, standing on the ledge of the roof. It was hard not to recognize that distinctive shade of red hair.

"Oh God," John breathed in horror as he saw their coats blowing slightly in the wind, along with Lexi's hair. Sherlock's arm was around Lexi's waist and she had one of her hands on his chest.

"We ... we ... we can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this," Sherlock told him, the phone between the two of them.

"What's going on?" John asked them anxiously as they stared at each other, John from the ground and Sherlock and Lexi from the rooftop.

"An apology. It's all true," Sherlock told him calmly.

"Every word of it was true John,' Lexi said, her voice not as thick as before, but John could still hear the emotion in it.

"Wh-what?" John stammered in confusion.

"Everything they said about us. We invented Moriarty," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi looked around briefly to their enemy's grinning body lying behind them. On the ground, John stared up at his friends in disbelief.

"It was all game John, us meeting you. Sherlock and I had already knew each other and we kept it from Mycroft," Lexi told him, her voice light and sounding normal again.

"Why are you saying this?" John asked them brokenly as Sherlock and Lexi turned back to look down at him.

"We're fakes," Sherlock told him, his voice breaking.

"Lexi, Sherlock ...," John said, trailing off as he didn't know what else to say.

"The newspapers were right all along. We want you to tell Lestrade; we want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that we created Moriarty for our own purposes," Sherlock told him, his voice sounding tearful.

"We just wanted to be important, the great detectives, but it got out of hand. The lie got to be too much for us to be able to continue," Lexi told him, her voice thick again and John could tell that she was crying now.

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, Lexi, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you two knew all about my sister, right?" John asked them getting angrily that they would even be saying this to him.

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock told him and John shook his head slightly as he stared up at them.

"You two could," John told them and Sherlock and Lexi laughed as they gazed down at their friend, a tear dripping from each of their chins.

"We researched you. Before we met we discovered everything that we could to impress you," Sherlock said and he sniffed quietly.

"We wanted to impress you because we knew that if you believed everyone else would too," Lexi told him, shaking her head as she spoke thickly, her voice catching slightly.

"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," Sherlock told John who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head repeatedly.

"No. All right, stop it now," John told them as he started to walk towards the hospital entrance, determined to go and stop them before they did anything drastic.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock told John urgently and John stopped and backed up, holding his hand up to Sherlock and Lexi in capitulation.

"All right," John told them, doing whatever he could to keep them from moving. Breathing rapidly, Sherlock had his own hand stretched out towards his friend, Lexi taking the phone from him in her free hand.

"Keep your eyes fixed on us," Sherlock told him, his voice becoming frantic. "Please, will you do this for us?" Sherlock asked him.

"John please," Lexi pleaded with him. "For us, just keep your eyes on us," Lexi said quickly, her voice trembling. However, behind her and Sherlock, two men were dragging the body of Jim Moriarty across the roof towards the door. Neither Sherlock nor Lexi reacted to this and continued to concentrate on John.

"Do what?" John asked them in confusion as he stared up at them with his mouth open.

"This phone call – it's, er ... it's our note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked him and John shook his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he was beginning to understand hit him, then he raised it again, his voice shaky.

"Leave a note when?" John asked them his voice broken.

"Goodbye, John," Sherlock and Lexi told him in unison their voices both calm.

"No. Don't," John told them urgently, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, the men dragged Moriarty's body in a service elevator inside the hospital and laid it on the floor. In the second service elevator just beside them another group dragged the body of a recently deceased young woman into the elevator and laid it on the floor in a similar manner. While Sherlock and Lexi continued to look down towards John, one of the men opened a case while a woman who was revealed to be Liz the pathologist, opened a similar case in the second elevator. Inside both were latex masks, one of which was a perfect replica of Sherlock's face and the other being a perfect replica of Lexi's face. The other man closed the lift doors for the first elevator while a second woman with Liz closed the lift doors to the second. The first man took a small bottle from the case and, using tweezers, carefully extracted a blue soft contact lens while Liz did the same with a hazel lens. On the roof, Lexi lowered her arm and dropped the phone behind her on the roof before the two detectives gazed intensely in front of themselves as John screamed, "SHERLOCK! LEXI!" upwards. In the elevator, Moriarty's dead open eyes were now blue instead of brown and the Jane Doe's eyes were now hazel instead of blue. The man took the mask out of the case and laid it over Jim's face, then picked up a scalpel and reached forward to start lifting the closed eyes on the mask. In the second elevator, Liz did the same, situating the mask of Lexi's face into place perfectly. The second man started to apply a dark curly wig to Moriarty's slicked-down hair while the second woman in the other elevator had the task of getting the really long red wig over the Jane Doe's blonde pixie cut.

On the roof, Sherlock and Lexi half turned to one another and wrapped their arms around each other before they pitched sideways off of the roof together and plummeted to the ground below, clinging to each other tightly. John stared in horror, and a man on a pushbike slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing to the ground. Sherlock and Lexi plummeted towards the ground, but now it was clear that they were both attached to bungee cords. While John laid on the ground still trying to catch his breath, Molly Hooper watched from a window of Bart's as Sherlock and Lexi plunged past the window together, the bungee cords trailing behind them. They let go of each other as they headed towards the pavement but the cords stopped their fall when they reached their full extensions. Sherlock and Lexi's breathe whooshed out of them ... then the elastics began to contract and Sherlock and Lexi we both yanked skywards. Molly gasped as they shoot back into view, flailing to change their directions and, before she could react, Sherlock and Lexi wrapped their arms around their heads and kicked their way through the window in front of her. Molly cringed back from the breaking glass and Sherlock landed on his feet while Lexi landed in an impressive roll, shooting up onto her feet in barely a second. They unclipped the bungee cords from their waists and the cords were whipped out of the window and disappeared from view. Sherlock and Lexi both straightened their coats and Lexi slid a hand through her hair, brushing it back as Sherlock ruffled his hands through his hair and then marched over to Lexi who was several feet in front of him, taking her head in his hands and kissing her deeply for a couple of seconds. Lexi reached up to hold his head but he pulled away and gave her a long look before she pulled him back by the lapels of his coat into a deeper and longer kiss. Once they broke apart, they grabbed each other's hands, linking their fingers together before they turned and left the room leaving a very flustered and disappointed Molly behind.

Downstairs, the two men were dragging Jim's body, now perfectly disguised as Sherlock's, including being dressed in a Belstaff coat and blue scarf, out onto the street while Liz and two other women dragged the Jane Does' body, now perfectly disguised as Lexi's, including being dressed in her signature grey coat and green plaid scarf, out onto the street beside him. Nearby, a man wearing a fur-lined hooded jacket was approaching John. The men and the woman put the bodies into position on the pavement, posing their hands and their limbs before two of them squirted fake blood onto the paving stones around their heads. Other people, various fake medical staff and passers-by, were running into position around the bodies. The jacket-wearing man walked over to John as more people ran towards the scene. John got up onto his knees, seeing the passers-by running over to the bodies and pointing upwards as they appeared to discuss what they just saw. John got to his feet, and the man stepped into his way.

"John," The man, who was none other than Derren Brown, the famous illusionist and hypnotist said as he put his hand onto John's shoulder. "John. Look at me. Look at me," Derren said and John dragged his eyes away from the scene of Sherlock and Lexi's fall and looked at Derren, whose face was a little fuzzy so close-up. Derren put his fingers over John's face. "And sleep!" Darren told him and John collapsed forward, his eyes closing. Derren supported him and gently lowered him to the ground. "Right the way down, right the way deep, right the way sound asleep. That's right. That's good – keeping my voice just there in the centre of your head and floating all the way around you," Darren said in a calming voice that echoed in John's head. While he was speaking, Darren reached down to John's wrist and adjusted his watch, turning it back a few minutes. He straightened up and looked down at John. "And you will awaken in three, two, one ...," Darren said and John started to move on the ground. "... zero," Darren finished and, flipping his hood up, he walked away. John rolled over onto his side, grimacing with pain. The crowd continued to gather around the bodies and John, unaware of the passage of time since he first was knocked over by the bike, clambered to his feet and stumbled towards the pavement.

Inside the hospital, Sherlock and Lexi walked towards a set of double doors, their hands clasped together and both detectives walking with confident strides. Outside, John hurried over to the crowd and tried to push his way through them, while they did all they could to hold him back.

"Let me come through, please. They're my friends," John said in anguish as inside the hospital Sherlock and Lexi half-turned as they walked, taking one last look behind them over their shoulders. Outside, John's knees gave out and he half-collapsed, supported by some of the bystanders. The wrist of the dead man and woman fell limply out of John's grasp. Paramedics arrived with two stretchers and loaded the bodies onto them while John watched in anguish. The stretcher was wheeled away; and Sherlock and Lexi dramatically pushed their way through the double doors and walked around the corner, disappearing from view.

"Bollocks!" Lestrade said, drawing Anderson back to the present moment and away from his story. Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and Doctor Anderson, who was sporting a scruffy beard and unwashed hair, were standing at a mobile coffee stall in an entirely different part of London. Lestrade himself was sporting a green and black checked scarf that was eerily reminiscent of a green plaid scarf.

"No-no-no-no! It's obvious! That's how they did it! It's obvious!" Anderson told Lestrade in earnest, desperate for the man to believe him. He knew that was how they had done it. It all fit! It had enough secrecy and action to the plan to satisfy both detectives and Lexi would have been to come up with the idea of the bungee cords and breaking through the window. It was so completely them.

"Derren Brown?! Let it go. Sherlock and Lexi are dead," Lestrade told Anderson waving his coffee cup around as he to get through to the man after many months' worth of failed attempts.

"Are they?" Anderson asked him sceptically as he pointed his finger at Lestrade questioningly. If anyone could survive it was Sherlock and Lexi and their egos were both too big to possibly let themselves die from something as mundane as a fall off of a roof. All the time they were trying to be clever so they had to have been clever then.

"There were bodies. It was them. It was definitely them. Molly Hooper laid them out," Lestrade told Anderson in exasperation before he raised his coffee cup to his lips.

"No, she's lying. It was Jim Moriarty's body with a mask on and some other woman's body with a mask of Lexi on!" Anderson told Lestrade as the D.I. took a sip of his coffee and then lowered his cup.

"Masks?!" Lestrade scoffed and Anderson nodded at him eagerly. "Bungee ropes, masks, Derren Brown," Lestrade continued as he waved his coffee cup around and looked skyward for a second. "Two years, and the theories keep getting more stupid. How many more've you got for me today?" Lestrade asked Anderson in exasperation as he raised his coffee cup to his lips again.

"Well, you know the paving slabs in that whole area – even the exact ones that they landed on – you know they were all ..." Anderson said before Lestrade interrupted him quickly.

"Guilt," Lestrade said, pointing at Anderson with the hand he held his coffee cup in and looking at him sternly. "That's all this is. You pushed us all into thinking that Sherlock and Lexi were frauds, you and Donovan," Lestrade continued and Anderson looked down sadly. "You did this, and it killed them, and they're staying dead. Do you honestly believe that if you have enough stupid theories, it's gonna change what really happened?"" Lestrade asked him and he took his cup of coffee with him as he started to walk away.

"I believe in Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," Anderson called after him his voice slightly off as he said the words. He really did believe in them. He believed that they were smarter than anyone ever would know. If anyone could cheat death it was the two of them. Together they could practically move mountains.

"Yeah, well that won't bring them back," Lestrade told him, turning back for a moment before he continued on towards where several camera crews were filming reporters.

"...that after extensive police investigations, Richard Brook did indeed prove to be the creation of James Moriarty ...," The first reporter said into his crews camera.

"...amidst unprecedented scenes, there was uproar in court as Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna were vindicated and cleared of all suspicion ...," A second reporter said into a different camera.

"...but sadly, all this comes too late for the detectives who became something of celebrities two years ago ...," A third reporter said into her camera.

"...Questions are now being asked as to why police let matters get so far," The first reporter continued as Lestrade and Anderson stood side by side, each holding a coffee cup and watching the reporters.

"Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna fell to their deaths from the top of London's Bart's Hospital. Although they left no note, friends say it's unlikely they were able to cope with ...," The second reporter continued as Lestrade turned to Anderson.

"Well then," Lestrade said as he raised his cup. "Absent friends. Sherlock and Lexi."

"Sherlock and Lexi," Anderson said sadly as he raised his own cup and they tapped them together in a toast on the two year anniversary of the detective's deaths.

"And may God rest their souls," Lestrade added giving Anderson a pointed look which he seemed to understand before they both drank awkwardly.

At Sherlock and Lexi's grave, John gazed down at the headstones, his eyes haunted with memories and loss. Since the last time he had come here, two years before, he had grown a moustache. He thought it was only fitting that he come today on the two year anniversary of their deaths when Moriarty was found to be real and all accusations of Sherlock and Lexi being frauds were vindicated to the public. As he continued to look at the graves, which had several bunches of flowers at the base of each headstone, some of them fading with age, a woman stepped to John's side, unconsciously wearing a grey coat and blue scarf, and took his hand. John clasped her hand tightly as they stayed for just a few more minutes before walking away across the cemetery together.

Miles away in Serbia, a man with long straggly hair was running through a forest holding tightly onto the hand of a tiny red haired woman whose hair was massively tangled. Above them, a helicopter was circling around, shining a searchlight into the trees while the crew watched their infrared camera, radioing instructions in Serbian to the ground crew. On the ground, the man and woman raced through the tress together, their feet pounding along the uneven terrain. The woman slipped and was quickly caught by the man who held her for just a second before they darted off again.

"Shezza, left!" The woman cried behind him in a thick foreign accent and the man darted to the left as she suggested and they both jumped off of a slight incline.

"Xia!" The man cried back to her in just as thick an accent as he looked back to find her clutching her side.

"I'm fine!" She called ahead to him breathlessly. "Just keep going!" She shouted at him as they darted off to the right together, their clothes getting snagged on the trees and bushes. They heard some rustling up ahead of them and suddenly someone on their left sent a burst of automatic gunfire towards their feet and they had no choice but to stop.

"Xia, no," The man whispered to the woman quietly as she made to move towards the man and he held her back as the soldiers surrounded them and aimed their rifles at them. They slumped to the ground in exhaustion, the man helping the woman to her knees before they pressed their foreheads together, breathing heavily for a moment before they were pulled apart and made to stand. The two of them were escorted with guns pressed into their back through the trees to the compound just over the next hill that they had been running from.

Sometime later, in an interrogation centre of the compound that the soldiers had brought the man and woman back to, a soldier was guarding the entrance to the room he was in. He had earphones in his ears playing loud music. Behind the closed door, the male prisoner cried out as he was struck for the umpteenth time and the woman murmured something to him quietly in a foreign language. Hearing the noise, the soldier took one of his ear buds out and looked round to the door as the prisoner was struck again and groaned, the woman yelling for them to stop in Serbian. The soldier put his ear bud back in and turned away. Inside the room, the torturer shouted repeatedly at the male prisoner, who was naked from the waist up and whose arms were chained to opposite walls of the small room, forcing him to stay upright. The woman that had been brought in him was chained next to him in a similar manner and she kept pulling at her restraints as they hit him. The men had come to learn to be careful as they approached her. She was volatile even with her hands restrained. It only took threatening the man's life to get her instantly stop. She wore only her faded, dirty pants and a bra and her torso was heavily scared and exposed several knife wounds. They had to bandage one as her stitches had been torn from running. The woman was heavily tattooed, the largest being a large rose tattoo that covered her entire left side. A newer looking one that was slightly faded rested on her shoulder blades and was of a pair of angel wings with a medical cross, a violin, and a shamrock under them with the inscription "On the side of the Angels" below it in fancy script.

Currently the woman only had a bleeding, split lip and a heavily bruised face. The man reacted more with rage when the woman was hit, but the woman reacted more fiercely and struggled to get out of her bonds when the man was beaten. They would start again with the woman soon until one of them talked. It was easy to see by the heavily scratched and dented gold bands on their left ring fingers that they were a married couple which worked perfectly to their advantage. The man was slumped forward as far as he could, exhausted by the repeated blows. The woman was fighting to keep her eyes open and she lifted her head though it was difficult to look at the man she was chained next to even if her body was slumped forward in obvious exhaustion and pain. She called to the man every time they hit him as if she was murmuring words of comfort or reminders or she spent the rest of the time they worked on him to shout at them in perfect Serbian. Most of it were curses, insults, or threats and she made the soldiers laugh. She was a tiny woman with lots of fire, but she was too weak to follow up on any of her promises. In a dark corner of the room another soldier, well wrapped against the cold and with a furry hat on his head, sat with his feet up on a small table and watched while the torturer paced across the room.

"You two broke in here for a reason," The torturer said in Serbian as he picked up a large metal pipe and walked towards the prisoner again, whose face was completely covered by his long straggly hair.

"Don't you dare go near him with that!" The woman yelled at the torturer in Serbian her face a mask of furry and rage as she lunged towards him, stopping when she hit the full extent that her chains would allow her to go. The torturer laughed as the man murmured slightly to the woman, his voice carrying in the room. It was a deep baritone and the woman instantly reacted by looking at him and saying something in a foreign language. He responded to her calmly and she backed away slightly so that her arms wouldn't be pulled so much by the chains any longer.

"Just tell us why and you two can sleep. Remember sleep?" The torturer continued in Serbian, ignoring what they had said to each other as he drew the pipe over his shoulder and prepared to strike the prisoner. The man however quietly whispered something and the torturer stopped, lowering the pipe and leaning forward as he heard him. "What?" He asked the prisoner in Serbian. He reached down and pulled the man's head back by the hair, leaning closer as the prisoner continued to whisper.

"Well? What did he say?" The soldier in the corner asked in a very heavy accent. Straightening up and releasing the prisoner's head, the torturer looked down at him in puzzlement.

"He said that I used to work in the navy, where I had an unhappy love affair," The torturer responded to the question the soldier asked him as the woman listened to them, lifting her head a bit.

"What?" The soldier asked and the woman said something in the language that the man had used instead of the Serbian that he knew she could at least speak some of. The torturer looked back and relayed her words to the other man.

"...that the electricity isn't working in my bathroom; and that my wife is sleeping with our next door neighbour!" The torturer said and he strode over and reached down, pulling the woman's head up by her hair.

"And?" The torturer asked her in Serbian, but it was the male prisoner who replied briefly and the man released the woman's head.

"The coffin maker!" The torturer shouted as he bent and lifted the male prisoner's head with a fist in his hair. "And? And?" The torturer demanded of him, but like before the woman answered instead. The torturer dropped the male prisoner's head and relayed the words the woman had spoken to the soldier.

"If I go home now, I'll catch them at it! I knew it! I knew there was something going on!" The torturer shouted before he stormed out of the room, leaving the prisoner's slumped in their chains.

"So, my friends. Now it's just you and me," The soldier said in Serbian as he took his feet off the table and stood up. "You have no idea the trouble it took to find you two," He continued in Serbian and the woman laughed.

"Drop the Serbian, your accent is laughable," The woman said in perfect Serbian and the soldier walked across the room to the prisoners. The male prisoner's back was covered in blood and wounds from his beating while the female prisoner had several bleeding and newly open knife wounds to add to the wounds she had sustained from her own beating. Most of her face was badly bruised and slightly cut and her lip was split as well. The soldier grabbed a handful of each of the prisoners' hair and pulled their heads up a little. The woman groaned and swore in Serbian as the soldier leaned in closely between the two of them and reverted back to English.

"Now listen to me. There's an underground terrorist network active in London and a massive attack is imminent. Sorry, but the holiday is over, brother dear," Mycroft Holmes said before he turned and looked at the woman. "And sister mine. I believe belated congratulations are in order," Mycroft continued before he released the prisoner's heads and straightened up. "Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna. Or should I say Alexandria Holmes now?" Mycroft asked the two of them and under the long hair that was draped across each of their faces, the two consulting detectives smiled.

**Lexi's POV**

"Holmes," I answered Mycroft as he moved to go and unchain me from the wall. "No, help Sherlock first," I told him and he paused as Sherlock lifted his head slightly.

"Get her down first Mycroft her injuries are for more serious than mine," Sherlock told his brother who nodded once before he went back to getting me unchained.

"I'm fine. I told you before," I argued back to Sherlock and he chuckled, the sound reverberating off of the walls.

"You are stubborn not fine," Sherlock told me, his tone ending with a note of finality and Mycroft managed to catch me as I stumbled forward when he got one of my arms down. He had me lean against him and he sported my weight as he got my other arm down. Once I was free he picked me up despite my protests and carried me over to the chair he had been sitting on. He left me to sit as he went to get Sherlock free.

"I'm Irish, of course I'm stubborn," I told Sherlock, rolling my eyes before I gasped in at the pain that blossomed over my side as I tried to move slightly.

"Xia!" Sherlock said sounding concerned and he found some new strength and managed to move on his own as he frantically got his other arm free that Mycroft was just starting to work on. He rushed forward towards me and fell to his knees just before me as he stumbled. "Where?" Sherlock asked me as he frantically looked me over and I grabbed his trembling hands, the both of us still shaking from the adrenaline and shock.

"I'm alright my love," I told him and I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and I brushed his hair out of his eyes, looking at his face. His grey- blue eyes stared up at me and I leaned down despite the pain and pressed a kiss to his perfect Cupid 's bow lips that were split like mine. Sherlock sighed and deepened the kiss, the first for us in a long time as we had been on the run and in danger for most of the time and then chained apart from each other for at least a week now. I couldn't tell anymore. It was probably closer to two weeks, but time was endless here. Mycroft cleared his throat and I broke away from Sherlock to glare at Mycroft. "Way to kill the mood," I told Mycroft as I helped Sherlock to his feet. Mycroft shrugged out of his coat and handed it over to me. I slid it on while Sherlock accepted help from Mycroft to stand upright. He was still unsteady on his feet as we had been standing without rest for a very long time. We were both exhausted, beaten, bloodied, and highly in need of a very long shower, but we were alive and together and that was all that matter.

"Hmm, I'm sure. I do think your efforts could best be served in getting out of here however," Mycroft told me in one of his tones that annoyed me so much and I rolled my eyes at him.

"What do you suggest than Microsoft? Shezza and I can't get that far on our own and I doubt that you can get us all out of here all by yourself," I told Mycroft before there was the sound of someone speaking outside the door in Serbian. I looked up as Sherlock looked around for the metal pipe that the torturer was going to use on him. The door was pushed open and a woman wearing a fur coat and a hat much in the same manner as Mycroft had been before he gave me his coat walked through and raised her hands from her pockets, grinning at us.

"And nobody thought to invite me to this party?" Joanna said and Sherlock and I relaxed as the brunet looked at Mycroft. "We got a window of fifteen guard free minutes to get them both out and my friend is waiting in the truck outside," Joanna told him and Mycroft nodded before he passed Sherlock off to Joanna, the smaller woman helping him stand upright. Despite my protests, Mycroft bent down and picked me up again. "Don't complain. Besides when I'm lazy I force him to carry me. He's used to it," Joanna called back to us as she led Sherlock forward just ahead of us. I looked up at Mycroft and saw him blushing slightly and I smirked up at him. He glared down at me murderously and I chuckled slightly before stopping as it jarred my side. It would appear that some things had changed in the two years we had been gone such as Mycroft getting a girlfriend or should I say lover. I knew how Joanna was and Mycroft and Joanna just had this look about them that was kind of like the "we've been shagging" look.

Mycroft and Joanna brought us out side to the freezing cold and I felt bad for Sherlock having to walk across the cold ground as I was carried. The two of them managed to get us into the back of a covered truck and we were set down amongst a load of blankets together. Sherlock and I finally allowed our bodies to rest now that we were safe and Joanna and Mycroft climbed into the front with Joanna's driver who slowly drove us out of the compound. Sherlock pulled me closer to him and I ducked my head under his chin as we curled up in the thick blankets together, getting warm more quickly that way. Once we made it out of the compound gates we finally gave into the exhaustion together and let our eyes close as we clung to each other. We were awoken from out fitful rest as Mycroft and Joanna stopped us off just after we got over the border and into Bulgaria. They took us to Sophia which was the closest city to us after we switched cars and Sherlock and I were given shirts and thick coats, mittens, and scarves to ward of the cold. We sat in the back seat, or heads pressed together as Mycroft drove us into the city. Our final destination was the airport in Sofia and we drove right onto the runway were a private plane was waiting for us. Mycroft was playing as pilot and as soon as Joanna got us settled into our seats next to one another, she went to join Mycroft in the cockpit.

I pulled the mobile she had passed to me from under the blanket I was warming my hands under as I leaned in closer to Sherlock's side as he wanted me to. He closed his eyes and breathed in before he opened his eyes. It was as if he was afraid to sleep and take his eyes off of me, even as the plane took off and we got into the air. We clasped our hands tightly together, our fingers linked together as I pulled up a search on the phone's internet. I was met with the sight of hundreds of pictures of the graffiti **#NotDead** that had mysteriously appeared overnight all across London before disappearing just as quickly and several current news stories about how Richard Brook was proven to be nothing more than the creation of criminal mastermind James Moriarty, that Sherlock and I had been vindicated to the public, and how the mysterious message **Moriarty Was Real** appeared on every television screen, computer, mobile phone, and anything with an internet link up just moments after the news broke. That of course had been due to a mass hack that was on a timed system curtsy of Joanna. I showed Sherlock the news stories and he smiled in contentment and triumph. We had done it. We had dismantled Moriarty's web, killed Richard Brooke and brought back James Moriarty, and we saved all of our friends. We could go home now, back to London. No more running, no more fighting to stay alive. We were free, we were free from that all. We could go back, to John. It was finally over.

A tear slipped out of my eyes and Sherlock reached up and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb as I sent him a watery smile. We both laughed in delight before hugging, despite our injuries or our pain. We settled in next to each other, Sherlock drawing me towards him as closely as physically possible. I rested against his chest as he wrapped his arms protectively and possessively around me, resting his head on top of mine as I tucked my feet under me on the seat. Now that we both knew it was over we fell asleep easily in each other's arms and allowed ourselves to rest. No one could take us away from London or Baker Street or John again. Moriarty was finished and just like I said, we made it out of this together. We were both alive, so very much alive, and I wasn't going to worry about the future. I had Sherlock and nothing else mattered as long as I had him. I knew…I knew I never could have survived on my own. We saved each other so many times and we fought by each other's sides on many occasions. The world could crumble around us but as long as we stayed side by side we would make it out together. Together or not at all, that had been us from the very start from when Sherlock and I first met and now we were headed back to Baker Street, the place where the two of us began.

**Third Person POV**

Two days later, in an Underground station, the doors of a Tube train closed and the train moved off as John sat inside. Above ground, a black car with tinted rear windows headed through the streets. The two journeys continued, while Mycroft sat in a dark-walled windowless office looking through paperwork. Joanna walked into the room and smiled at him as she walked over and sat on the edge of his desk. He looked up at her and couldn't help but smile at her softly as she leaned down and made him take a "break" which actually meant she distracted him quite thoroughly from his work. The car pulled up outside the Diogenes Club and two slightly better looking consulting detectives got out of the back of it, having just been cleared and seen to by Mycroft's personal doctor. The two linked hands as they kept their heads down and headed into the Diogenes Club, being shown through to Mycroft's office by the British Government's personal assistant Anthea.

Now having gotten to Baker Street and walked from the nearest tube station, John walked across the road towards 221. Two young boys came around the corner, one of them pushing a pushchair in front of him. Sitting in the pushchair was a home-made Guy Fawkes 'guy' with an orange balloon for a head, with a face drawn on with marker pen. One of them called out the traditional plea to a passer-by.

"Penny for the guy?" One of the boys called and the woman they called out to shook her head as she walked past and the boys continued on, reaching John just before he got to the front door. "Oi, mate! Penny for the guy?" The first boy asked him and John rolled his eyes.

"Penny for the guy, mate?" The second boy asked him before the first boy repeated the call. John looked round at them quizzically and they continued onwards, calling out their plea to everyone they saw. John unlocked the front door and went inside, thinking no more about it than it deserved to be thought of. Partway down the hall, he stopped, staring at Mrs Hudson's front door and breathing out an anxious breath. In his head he started to hear Sherlock's violin playing Lexi's lament and Lexi's giggle just before she would start playing some Irish melody for them. His head snapped up and he looked up the stairs as a snippet of an old conversation sounded inside his mind.

_"That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done," John had said as Lexi leaned between him and Sherlock against the wall, catching her breath, _

_"Says the man who invaded Afghanistan," Lexi had pointed out with a breathless laugh and then they had all laughed together._

_"That wasn't just me," John had told her before she and Sherlock had laughed again, his baritone chuckle mixing with her higher bell like laugh._ John blinked sadly as the violin music faded from his mind as did the sounds of Sherlock and Lexi's laughter. Just then, Mrs. Hudson opened her door and walked out, staring at John in surprise. He raised a hand in greeting, clearing his throat before walking towards her after a final glance up the stairs.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I were sitting in Mycroft's office now and I had someone trying to get the rest of the tangles out of my hair now that it had been washed. Sherlock was reading the front page headline of a newspaper which read, "SKELETON MYSTERY" as he sat reclined in a barber's chair across the room from me having his face shaved by one of Mycroft's men. The article was something about a skeleton being found in the wall of some building. It reminded me of one of Sherlock and my old cases, one of our first together actually. Sherlock lowered his paper and folded it as he looked slightly towards Mycroft who was sitting behind his desk, reading a file.

"You two have been busy, haven't you?" Mycroft asked us as the woman working on my hair started cutting it. It had grown out to my elbows again and while it was still a lot shorter than when we left London two years ago, it was starting to grow back. Sherlock already had his hair cut back to its normal length which had been the first thing he asked for rather than a shave. His hair was wet and straight right now, but I knew it would curl as soon as it dried. It never bother me if his hair was long or short, but it was nice to see him looking like himself again. He looked a lot happier as well. He had been complaining about his hair to me for weeks before we got captured in Serbia. We both remained silent as Sherlock tossed his paper onto a nearby trolley. "Quite the busy little bees" Mycroft continued and he chuckled.

"Time does fly when you're having so much fun," I told Mycroft sarcastically as I snorted slightly and drummed my fingers on the arm rests of my chair. I was impatient for Sherlock and me to be finished. Even being in the same room as each other wasn't enough yet. I still got anxiety when he was even a few feet from me, especially when I was scolded and told to keep my head straight so I couldn't look at him to at least assure myself that we were both fine. I knew that it would take some time for Sherlock and me to get over these anxieties. He was drumming his fingers on his chair as well so I knew it was just as hard for him as it was for me.

"And yet you two found the time to wed, even if it isn't official," Mycroft told me, raising his eyebrow as he looked down to our left hands in turn. My engagement ring which Mycroft had held onto for me while we were gone was now resting in the place it belonged on my left ring finger along with my beat up and scratched gold band.

"Why wait? I love Sherlock and I saw no reason in waiting longer to get to call him mine," I told Mycroft with a shrug, leaving out the bit about how we had also married because we wanted to call each other husband and wife before one of us possibly died.

"Moriarty's network – took us two years to dismantle it," Sherlock said, breaking the conversation away from our unofficial marriage. To us it was just as official as if we had that piece of paper. To the British Government our marriage wasn't exactly official so for now I was still legally Ms. MacKenna. Sherlock and I were married in our eyes however. I knew that it was a subject that Sherlock didn't really want to go into with his brother, especially now.

"His network was a lot larger than we originally thought it was and there were so many loose ends to tie up," I added with a sigh before I grinned as my hair was finally finished. I shook the bits of hair off of my shoulders before standing up and letting my hair fall down around me. Ah, I felt like myself again.

"And you're confident you have?" Mycroft asked us as I grabbed my forest green button down shirt and pulled it over the black tank top I was wearing.

My wounds were mostly healed or starting to but one of the knife wounds I had picked up had to be restitched. As long as I moved carefully I would be fine. I hardly even realized that it was there. My pain tolerance had increased a great deal in the last two years. My face was covered in a sickly yellow and blue bruise, and my lip was split, but I would heal and so would Sherlock. We had a lot more scars now than we had when we left. I also had several more tattoos that I had picked up along the way. One was my tribute to the three of us on my back which I had insisted up having "On the side of Angels" written under it in order to represent our struggle against Moriarty and everything we had gone through together. The next was that I added Sherlock's name to my rose tattoo after we got married so that his name was written just under my heart and the last was a tattoo on my right rib cage just under my breast which said, "Human after all."

"I'm always confident Mycroft. I believe it's a Holmes' sentimentality," I told Mycroft and he smiled pleasantly enough back at me. I raised my eyebrow at him knowing that he couldn't be one to talk with Joanna around.

"The Serbian side was the last piece of the puzzle," Sherlock told Mycroft as I sat back down as the woman cleared up her stuff and swept the floor before leaving us.

"And the worst of it by far," I added, looking across to Sherlock who flicked his gaze over to me. Out of all Moriarty's connections, the Serbian side of it was the most brutal.

"Yes. You two got yourself in deep there ...," Mycroft said as he checked his report. "...with Baron Maupertuis. Quite a scheme," Mycroft told us and I smirked at him in amusement. It had nearly been as fun as breaking into Buckingham Palace but it was fun enough. It involved us sneaking in to a secure base only we got caught while trying to sneak out again.

"Colossal," Sherlock told Mycroft and I giggled, snorting slightly.

"Elementary," I told Mycroft and I looked over at Sherlock to see him smirking in amusement. It was sort of a game between us to see which one of us could use our favourite lines more, his being obviously.

"Anyway, you two safe now," Mycroft told us as he shut the file and Sherlock hummed as he flicked his gaze over to me. I flashed a smile at him, feeling rather content right now. Still a bit tired, but we had plenty of time to catch up on sleep now that we were home again. It felt fantastic to be on British soil again. The first thing I wanted when we landed was tea, proper British tea and Jammie Dodgers. "A small 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss," Mycroft told us as he looked up, pouting just slightly, and I raised my eyebrow at him as I sat with my back straight, being careful to not put much weight on it. I didn't know how Sherlock could be laying down right now. Both of our backs were still torn up from the beatings we had received though his was worse than mine.

"What for?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who frowned at this comment.

"For wading in," Mycroft told us and I frowned at him as I tilted my head to the side. Sherlock raised a hand to the barber to make him stop shaving him. The man stepped back a little as I got up, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Is that would you did? Joanna yes, but you…" I asked Mycroft, looking at him over my shoulder and he frowned at me in displeasure. I was still slightly miffed at him and I was willing to be quite difficult right now.

"In case you'd forgotten, fieldwork is not my natural milieu," Mycroft told us as Sherlock grunted in pain as I helped him sit up. He threw a grateful look up at me before he turned and looked at his brother angrily.

""Wading in"? You sat there and watched us being beaten to a pulp," Sherlock told Mycroft through gritted teeth as he reached for my hand in held in in his as I stood beside him, looking back at Mycroft passively.

"I got you out," Mycroft told us, frowning indignantly and I snorted at that and rolled my eyes. Sure he helped us, but after he watched us get beaten for more than a day. I knew that it had been Joanna that had put an end to it.

"No – we got us out. Why didn't you intervene sooner? If not for me than for Lexi!" Sherlock spat at his brother in anger, his teeth bared, and I reached up to Sherlock's shoulder and touched his cheek once. He calmed down under my touch and closed his eyes, hissing out a long sigh through his open mouth.

"Well, I couldn't risk giving myself away, could I? It would have ruined everything," Mycroft told us and I scoffed at that and Mycroft looked away from Sherlock and up at me.

"You could have like I would have been able to. You had Joanna with you and she's my partner in crime. I learnt everything from her Mycroft," I told the man as I eyed him darkly. He could have gotten us out of there much sooner than he had. I didn't care about me. I could take whatever beatings they decided to give me but it was so nice to see that two years hadn't changed anything between the two of them. The brotherly rivalry was still very much there despite everything.

"You were enjoying it," Sherlock told Mycroft, glowering at him as he tilted his head to the side to watch Mycroft.

"Nonsense," Mycroft told us both quickly as he looked at my raised eyebrow and my current position next to Sherlock.

"Definitely enjoying it," Sherlock said darkly and I nodded as I tilted my head to the side to regard the man.

"Most certainly," I said as I narrowed my eyes at Mycroft.

"Listen, do you two have any idea what it was like, Sherlock, Lexi, going 'under cover', smuggling my way into their ranks like that? The noise; the people?" Mycroft asked us as he leaned forward and then sat back as the door opened and Joanna walked it.

"Don't complain amante," Joanna told Mycroft and he blushed instantly at the name as Joanna shot me a smirk. I trailed my eyes down to her left hand and I found what I expected to find, a simple diamond ring, three stones with smaller stones set into the gold band. She had taken it off when she went to get us out of Serbia. I knew they were engaged. "It wasn't that difficult. They were mostly simpleminded and easily fooled," Joanna told Mycroft as she walked over and perched herself on the edge of his desk. "And I see you looking over there shifty eyes," Joanna told me as she looked back over at me and Sherlock frowned in confusion, not understanding what she was talking about. She held up her left hand and flashed her ring finger at me. "Two years and finally I got him to just bloody ask me," Joanna said, leaning her head back and looking at a severely blushing Mycroft upside down. Sherlock's eyes widened in shock as Mycroft cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yes, well…," Mycroft said before I darted forward, Joanna meeting me half way, the both of us laughing as we hugged each other. "If you could please…," Mycroft tried and Joanna looked back at him and rolled her eyes.

"Honey, when do I ever listen to you?" Joanna asked him pointedly and Mycroft sighed before Joanna turned back to me.

"Congratulations," I told Joanna and she grinned at me as Sherlock groaned softly behind us as he painfully sank back down in his chair again, the barber resuming his work.

"And to you Mrs. Holmes, even if it isn't officially yet," Joanna told me and I laughed, smacking her on the arm playfully. "We're more than a match for them," Joanna told me conspiratorially. "And Mummy has been giving me pointers. Oh I love her. Myc didn't want to go and see her, but that argument ended rather quickly," Joanna told me and I laughed at that as both of the Holmes' boys groaned in unison.

"I didn't know you spoke Serbian," Sherlock said, speaking up over us and Joanna and I both turned to our men and raised an eyebrow at them as they talked with each other over us.

"I didn't, but the language has a Slavic root, frequent Turkish and German loan words," Mycroft answered Sherlock with a shrug. "Took me a couple of hours," Mycroft finished as he did everything not to meet Joanna's gaze. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as I looked at Sherlock who was staring at the ceiling.

"Hmm – you're slipping," Sherlock told Mycroft as I walked over to him and purposely looked down at him. He flicked his gaze over to me and I smirked at him to let him know that I wasn't angry at him. No, Mycroft could get that all from Joanna. I would much rather watch that. Sherlock smirked back at me as I patted his hand, making it still look like he was in trouble for Mycroft.

"Middle age, brother mine. Comes to us all," Mycroft said, smiling tightly across to Sherlock as Joanna walked over to his desk, her heels clicking along the floor with each step before she leaned across his desk.

"You'd better not be calling me middle aged," Joanna told Mycroft and he shook his head quickly. "That's what I thought," She said and she leaned forward and planted a kiss on Mycroft's lips, the man making an unsophisticated squeak of surprise. I smirked at them as Sherlock grimaced in disgust. When Joanna and Mycroft broke apart Joanna turned and sat on the edge of his desk, smirking at me as Mycroft blushed as red as a tomato. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and looked down as the door opened and Anthea walked into the room. Mycroft cleared his throat and looked up at her, his cheeks still tinged a bright pink. Anthea held up a dark suit and a white shirt on a hanger to show Sherlock while she held up a pair of black skinny jeans and a beautiful yellow blouse for me. I grinned at her as she smiled back at me.

"I got some heels for you too," Anthea told me knowingly and I laughed as she handed me over my clothes. Ah yes, things were already going back to normal. London had best be ready for us.

**John's POV**

John was sitting at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen table, trying to forget when the four of them had piled into her kitchen after the Americans had broken into their flat and attacked Lexi and Mrs. Hudson. The older woman loudly slammed down a small tray containing a cup and saucer and a jug of milk, Breaking John out of his thoughts before she walked across the room to pick up a plate of biscuits, which she equally as loudly slammed down onto the table. John watched her silently while she picked up a sugar bowl and thumped that onto the table. She hesitated, then pointed at the sugar bowl.

"Oh no – you don't take it, do you?" Mrs. Hudson asked him as John looked up at her, slightly startled by her obvious anger. Mrs. Hudson was like Lexi had been, you didn't get her angry.

"No," John told Mrs. Hudson with a small shake of his head.

"You forget a little thing like that," Mrs. Hudson told him, her arms hugging herself as John saw her getting rather emotional.

"Yes," John told her quietly.

"You forget lots of little things, it seems," Mrs. Hudson told him pointedly and John hummed, trying to avoid the subject she was trying to so obviously bring up. She purposely ran her finger between her nose and her upper lip while looking at John. "Not sure about that," Mrs. Hudson told him and John reached up to touch his moustache. "Ages you."

"Just trying it out," John told her offhandedly. He liked the moustache. It was different.

"Well, it ages you," Mrs. Hudson told him again and John looked awkwardly at her.

"Look ...," John started and Mrs. Hudson cut him off before he could continue.

"I'm not your mother. I've no right to expect it ...," Mrs. Hudson told him angrily, starting in on the very subject that John had been trying to avoid.

"No ...," John said, trying to stop her but she continued.

"...but just one phone call, John," Mrs. Hudson finished, her anger dissipating and being replaced with a hurt look. "Just one phone call would have done," Mrs. Hudson told him, looking down at him sadly.

"I know," John told her before he looked down.

"After all we went through," Mrs. Hudson told him and John breathed in deeply. They never specifically talked about…them anymore in fact they tried to avoid the topic but that was why John never called her. She mentioned things about them without ever specifically saying their names. That and it was too painful to come back to the flat. That was why he had moved out. He moved on, exactly as Lexi had wanted him too.

"Yes. I am sorry," John told her, looking her in the eye now. Even here in her flat, being around her it brought up bad memories about the two of them, the weeks he spent alone in the flat unable to eat and hardly able to sleep.

"Look, I understand how difficult it was for you after ... after ...," Mrs. Hudson said, sitting down at the table and she stopped and shook her head sadly, unable to continue.

"I just let it slide, Mrs. Hudson. I let it all slide. And it just got harder and harder to pick up the phone somehow," John told her, sighing and he looked away for a moment, then turned his eyes back to hers. "D'you know what I mean?" He asked her and after a moment, Mrs. Hudson sighed too and reached out to put her hand on his arm. He immediately put his hand over hers. It got harder and harder to pick up the phone, to talk to her, to remember them, but the two year anniversary of their deaths had passed just over two weeks before and John found himself thinking about them every day and watching the only video they ever made for him over and over again. Two years later and he still couldn't say their names.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock's hair was now dry and curly, and he was on his feet and almost dressed as I walked back into Mycroft's office in my black jeans and yellow blouse which came up in a modest neck line and had thick shoulder straps. It fell to my waist tightly, hugging my curves and then flared out at my hips. It was beautiful, sophisticated, but hid the worst of my scars and injuries. It also hid the fact of just how thin I was. Some home cooked meals and Sherlock and I would be all set. We just needed to gain some weight back with some of Mummy Holmes recipes. Anthea and Joanna had helped me with my makeup and nearly half a bottle of foundation later my bruises were completely covered and unnoticeable. I had twisted my hair up into a high bun and I grinned at how much I looked like my old self. I still looked two years older and there was the slight trace of crinkling around my eyes now. We weren't exactly the same as when we had left. Sherlock was tucking his shirt into his trousers while he looked at himself in a large mirror on the wall as I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Sherlock turned and smirked down at me as I gave him a saucy grin. Married life had changed us a bit, especially being a lot more open with any and all types of affection. Apparently it took Sherlock getting laid for him to not be so uptight all the time. Mycroft, Joanna, and Anthea stood by us, the girl's grinning at us as Mycroft grimaced in distaste over our display of sentiment.

"I need you two to give this matter your full attention, Sherlock, Lexi. Is that quite clear?" Mycroft asked us as I ignored him completely. Right now I was completely focused upon my husband who looked rather sexy in his suit again. He was reminding me of one of the reasons I had fallen for him in the first place. There were many, too many to list.

"What do you think of this shirt?" Sherlock asked me and I gestured for him to turn around. He did and I moved my arms from his waist to wrap them around his neck. He shivered slightly as I made him bend down and I put my mouth near his ear.

"I would have you right here on Mycroft's desk until you begged for mercy twice," I whispered to Sherlock just loud enough that it carried over to the other three people in the room. Sherlock made a choking sound as he pulled back from me slightly to find me grinning mischievously up at him. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink that went down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Lexi!" Mycroft spluttered in exasperation and I ignored him still.

"I've never begged for mercy in my life," Sherlock told me, his cheeks still pink as he raised his hands and put them on my waist.

"Hmm, I think I can convince you too, twice mind you," I told Sherlock and he chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest before he pulled me into a tight hug.

"We'll find your underground terror cell, Mycroft," Sherlock said, addressing his brother over the top of my head who looked rather scandalized by our conversation. "Just put us back in London. We need to get to know the place again, breathe it in – feel every quiver of its beating heart," Sherlock said as I pulled back from him and started fixing his shirt for him, brushing his shoulders down.

"Oooh it's sexy when you talk like that," I told Sherlock and he jumped slightly in surprise when I wrapped my arm around his waist, squeezing his bum before I did so. He shot a look down to me as his cheeks grew red again and I blinked my eyes slowly as I flashed him an innocent look. Joanna looked at me and waggled her eyebrows and I smirked back at her before looking up at Mycroft pointedly. She shrugged at me before we sent identical grins to one another. It was our job to embarrass the men we loved, especially in front of each other.

"One of our men died getting this information. All the chatter, all the traffic, concurs there's going to be a terror strike on London – a big one," Anthea told us and Joanna put a hand on the younger woman's arm.

"I told you honey, I'm monitoring it for now and I've got my partner in crime back so it's pretty much already taken care of," Joanna told Anthea who nodded, sighing slowly.

"And what about John Watson?" Sherlock asked Mycroft and Joanna as he put his suit jacket on. Once it was on I grinned and pulled him down by the lapels of his jacket to kiss him soundly. He made a sound of pleasure and deepened the kiss, not even caring that his brother was in the room any more. Anthea threw an exasperated glance towards Mycroft and Joanna.

"Oi, randy teenagers!" Joanna said, snapping her fingers and Sherlock and I broke apart, the both of us blushing now. "Save that for your flat, we were trying to talk about John not about how much you two want to shag each other," Joanna told us and I rolled my eyes at her. It wasn't my fault that I barely got to touch Sherlock the last few months. Somehow running for your lives and being all dirty and gross really killed the mood.

"Sorry were you talking about us or you and Mycroft?" I asked Joanna and she raised her eyebrow back at me and smirked as Mycroft spluttered and is cheeks got very red again.

"I'll concede to both of us. Now, John," Joanna said slyly, getting us back onto the subject that we were actually supposed to be talking about.

"Mmm," Sherlock hummed, his cheeks still a bright red. "Have you seen him?" Sherlock asked Mycroft his voice slightly high for a second before it went back to normal. He deliberately stood an inch apart from me and tried not to touch me in any way, but that lasted all of two seconds before he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"Oh, yes – we meet up every Friday for fish and chips!" Mycroft told us sarcastically regaining his composure quite quickly and he gestured to Anthea, who handed Sherlock a folder. "We've kept a weather eye on him, of course," Mycroft told us as Sherlock removed his hand from my waist and opened the file. Inside there were two black and white surveillance photos of John and a printed report underneath. I gasped slightly as I saw him for the first time in two years. Our John, still wearing his jumpers. "You two haven't been in touch at all, to prepare him?" Mycroft asked us and I shook my head.

"No," Sherlock told Mycroft distractedly as he looked at the picture of John with his new moustache.

"And what would we tell him? He would never believe us over a phone call. To him, he saw us die. He needs to see us alive and breathing and reasonably well before he'll accept that we are actually alive," I told Mycroft as Sherlock got my attention and pointed down to John's picture. I made a face as he pointed out John's new addition.

"Well, we'll have to get rid of that," Sherlock told me and I nodded, humming in agreement.

"His furry little friend. Promise me…," I started as I looked up at Sherlock and he cut me off before I could even finish that sentence.

"Obviously," Sherlock told me with a smirk as Mycroft cut in to our conversation.

""We,"" Mycroft said and I nodded at him, flicking my gaze up to him before I looked back at the file.

"He looks ancient. We can't be seen to be wandering around with an old man," Sherlock told me and he closed the file and dropped it onto the desk.

"You get the razor and shaving cream, I'll tackle him and hold him down," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. His furry little friend really needed to go or he would be the butt of my jokes for weeks. I couldn't even look at him properly with that bloody thing on his lip. Ugh, I preferred my doctors to be clean shaven and my consulting detectives. A slight bit of stubble was sexy though, I though as I let my thoughts go into the gutter again.

**John's POV**

At Baker Street, John had gone upstairs and opened the door to the living room for old time's sakes. He stood in the doorway, looking into the room. It was quite dark because the curtains are closed, but lots of dust was floating around, illuminated by the few shafts of light coming into the room. John continued to stand still, looking towards Sherlock's chair by the fireside. He could just imagine seeing Sherlock and Lexi curled up in the chair together, Lexi giggling as Sherlock smirked and pulled her back closely to him when she tried to get up. Mrs. Hudson came in their old flat and switched the lights on.

"I couldn't face letting it out," Mrs. Hudson told him and she walked across to the right-hand window and pulled the curtains back, coughing at the dust. "He never liked me dusting. Never let her do it either," Mrs. Hudson said ruefully.

"No, I know," John told her, turning to look in the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson walked across the room to open the other curtains.

"So, why now? What changed your mind?" Mrs. Hudson asked him referring to his sudden return to Baker Street which had a lot to do with the anniversary of their deaths and also had to do with another bit of news. Drawing in a deep breath, John turned back to face her.

"Well, I've got some news," John told her and Mrs. Hudson turned to him and her face filled with horror.

"Oh, God. Is it serious?" Mrs. Hudson asked him in shock.

"What? No – no, I'm not ill. I've, er, well, I'm ... moving on," John told her, saying the words finally. Lexi had told him to "move on from us" and that was what he was trying to do.

"You're emigrating," Mrs. Hudson said sadly.

"Nope. Er, no – I've, er ... I've met someone," John told Mrs. Hudson who giggled with delight. Clapping her hands, she walked towards him smiling happily.

"Oh, lovely!"

"Yeah. We're getting married ... well, I'm gonna ask, anyway," John told Mrs. Hudson, smiling. He had listened to Lexi's advice, really listened to it ans he realized that she was right. He needed to move on, get on with his life. He couldn't…he couldn't sit around every day because they weren't coming back.

"So soon after Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson told him, looking doubtful.

"Well, yes," John told her, not getting her meaning. Mrs. Hudson looked away thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled at John.

"What's his name?" Mrs. Hudson asked him excitedly.

"It's a woman," John told Mrs. Hudson, letting out a huge exasperated sigh.

"A woman?!" Mrs. Hudson asked him in shock.

"Yes, of course it's a woman," John told Mrs. Hudson who laughed in surprise.

"You really have moved on, haven't you?" Mrs. Hudson asked him and John looked back at her in exasperation.

"Mrs. Hudson! How many times...? Sherlock was not my boyfriend. He and Lexi were together. They were eng…," John said trailing off before he finished that sentence. He hadn't told her. He hadn't told anyone what he knew. Lexi's engagement ring hadn't been found on her body which John figured meant that she had left it somewhere before meeting Moriarty on the rooftop. No one had ever found it.

"Live and let live – that's my motto," Mrs. Hudson said, smiling affectionately and not even realizing what he had begun to say.

"Listen to me, I am not gay!" John told Mrs. Hudson, his voice getting louder. As much as Mrs. Hudson loved Sherlock and Lexi together she always secretly thought that he and Sherlock were together. Course, Mrs. Hudson had never seen them together like John and a good part of the Yard had. "I do not carry a silent torch for Sherlock Holmes!" John added in exasperation hoping that maybe someone, someday, would not jump to that conclusion.

**Lexi's POV**

"I think we'll surprise John. He'll be delighted!" Sherlock said as he straightened his suit jacket and I frowned.

"Lock that might not be such a good idea," I told Sherlock, falling back into my old nickname from him instead of the new one I had been using for him over the last two years.

"You think so?" Mycroft asked Sherlock, smiling cynically.

"Hmm. We'll pop into Baker Street. Who knows – jump out of a cake," Sherlock said and I laughed as I tried to picture that.

"As long as it's the right cake. Don't need to pull a Rory's stag party," I told Sherlock, making a Doctor Who reference and he rolled his eyes at me.

"Baker Street? He isn't there anymore," Mycroft told us with a frown and Sherlock and I looked round at him in surprise. Well, I should have been expecting that. "Why would he be? It's been two years. He's got on with his life," Mycroft told us and I nodded at that thoughtfully.

"He's seen the video I left him then. Good, I dropped some subtle hints that might subconsciously prepare him," I told Mycroft who frowned at me in confusion. Oh yeah, I never did tell anyone that I left that for him.

"What life? We've been away," Sherlock asked Mycroft, glancing over my comment as if he was ignoring it but from the look he gave me I knew he would probably ask me a few questions about it later. Mycroft pretty much rolled his eyes without actually rolling them. Joanna leaned over and smacked him on the head for being rude and he threw a dark look at her. He backed down as soon as she raised her eyebrow at him. "Where's he going to be tonight?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as Joanna crossed her arms and looked at him as if just asking for him to say something about her hitting him.

"How would I know?" Mycroft asked Sherlock, throwing him a dirty look as he rubbed the back of his head angrily.

"You always know," Sherlock quipped back and I nodded my head at Joanna.

"And if you don't know Joanna will," Lexi said and Joanna grinned and nodded her head.

"Of course sweetie. I figured you two would ask about him first thing so I did a little hacking," Joanna said, lifting her thumb and index finger and pinching them closely together to show how much. "John has a dinner reservations in the Marylebone Road. It's a nice restaurant. Mycroft and I have been there before. They have a few bottles of the 2000 Saint-Emilion ... though I prefer the 2001," Joanna said, looking sidelong at Mycroft who was blushing and I realized that this had some inside meaning between the two of them.

"I think maybe we'll just drop by," Sherlock said, looking over at me and raising his eyebrow questioningly.

"It's been a while since we've gotten to have a nice dinner together," I mused and Sherlock smirked back at me as I grinned up at him. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I giggled.

"You know, it is just possible that you won't be welcome," Mycroft told us and I looked back at him, nodding slightly.

"No it isn't," Sherlock told Mycroft quickly, assuredly. It was the one fact that I could prepare him for. He was assured of the fact that John would be delighted to see us but I had calculated for several possible scenarios that could happen after John received the news that we were alive. "Now, where are they?" Sherlock asked Mycroft demandingly.

"Where's what?" Mycroft asked him, raising his eyebrow and playing dumb which didn't suit him.

"You know what," Sherlock snapped back at Mycroft and Anthea reappeared in the open doorway, having left a few moments before after our snogging got to her. She held up Sherlock's Belstaff coat and my grey coat, our exact coats that we had left behind two years ago. Anthea handed my coat off to Joanna and Sherlock smiled in delight and slid his arms into the sleeves as Anthea lifted it into position. Joanna did the same for me and I breathed in deeply, smelling the faint scent of London rain on it mixed with the scent of Sherlock. They even popped our collars for us. I looked across to Sherlock and grinned at him happily.

"Welcome back, Mr. Holmes," Anthea told Sherlock as Joanna grinned at me.

"And Mrs. Holmes," Joanna told me with a conspiratorial grin and Mycroft sighed behind us.

"Thank you ...," Sherlock told Joanna and Anthea as we pulled the collar tips of our coats into a better position. "...blud," Sherlock finished sarcastically as he looked at Mycroft. Sherlock reached for my hand next and I grabbed it and smiled up at him. I took a deep breath and nodded once before we left through Mycroft's office and walked out for the first time onto the streets of London. Ironically we found the nearest tall building and we climbed the stairs until we got to the roof access. We walked out and stood on the rooftop together, Sherlock hugging me to him as we gazed over our favourite city. The air smelled of petrichor and there was a very light London rain falling. This was London, our home, our playground, and where we had met and fallen in love. This was London and to be back, to be alive and together and back meant more to us than anyone could ever know. We stood together soaking in our city for a long moment before we headed off in search of our army doctor and blogger who we were honestly completely lost without.


	86. John Watson

**Hello sweeties. And yes, our detectives our back and yes, they are married now. Lexi is officially Lexi Holmes though not Legally. Do I see another wedding in the future? Of course I do! Why would I ever give up the joy of writing that? Just first they sort of have to let John know they are alive, and deal with the terrorist threat. Now we can see John's reaction to the news of Sherlock and Lexi being Not Dead. The case continues. And yes honey. I do sort of like Lexi's lines more in season three. Season three was my favourite to write. And those moments between Lock and Lexi will continue so glad you like them. Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight Four- John Watson<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I took a cab to the Landmark Hotel at Marylebone Road where John supposedly had dinner reservations tonight. I made several deductions about that that Sherlock didn't want to make. Mycroft said he had moved on and I was sure that John had. It had been two years since he saw us "die." I didn't expect him to wait around for us in Baker Street and it wouldn't have been healthy for him to because he thought we were never coming back. I knew that this would be hard for Sherlock to accept. He assumed that John would be happy to see us again but he never considered that John just might not want to. I could do nothing to prepare him but I could be there for him if the second possibility I had calculated for was the one we were met with. I…I didn't want to accept this fact either. It had always been the three of us and I didn't want to face the possibility that John might hate us and never want to see us again. We had left for him and while he didn't know that, everything Sherlock and I had been through in the last two years had been done with his safety in mind. We both almost died many times and… to lose John forever after all of that….Now dinner reservations told me John was on a date which meant that he had seen the video I left for him and he had listened to me. He found someone, he moved on from us and yes, I tried to leave hints, but I wouldn't have ever expected him to not find someone.

As we approached the door to the restaurant, Sherlock helped me out of my coat, revealing a beautiful green dress that was reminiscent of the one I wore on our first date which technically was when we went to dinner during the Blind Banker case. He had insisted upon stopping at a store along our way to the restaurant to get me a dress. It was one of probably many of his attempts to make up for all that had happened in the last two years. I never would believe that it was Sherlock's fault. Moriarty was interested in the both of us. What happened would have happened whether I was here or not. He had been a psychopath intent on completely destroying us but he was dead and he his network was gone now and we never had to worry about Moriarty again. Sherlock handed our coats off to a member of the staff and Sherlock offered me his arm as the waiters opened the doors for us. I took his arm and smiled up at him as he sent me a very Sherlock grin that I loved so much. As we walked in together the maître d' stepped forward to greet us.

"Sir, ma'am may I help you?" The maître d' asked us and only having glanced briefly at him we both unfortunately were in full-blown deduction mode. It had become habit for us to deduce everyone we came into contact with as it was necessary in order to make sure that we were safe. Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me and I nodded at him as we shared our deduction, **Expectant Father. **The man's phone beeped a text alert just then which confirmed our deduction.

"Your wife just texted you. Possibly her contractions have started," Sherlock told the man who fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He looked up at Sherlock in shock and I nodded at him before reaching for and patting him on the arm comfortingly.

"Go honestly. She's going to need you," I told the man who looked to me in shock and he finally managed to get a hold on himself and rushed away from us. "By the way, Lexi is a nice name for a girl!" I shouted after the man and Sherlock chuckled beside me. I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow as I read his expression. That was another thing that had changed between us in the last two years. Before I could sometimes tell what Sherlock was thinking or feeling from a look, but now we could read each other like open books. Now we could actually deduce each other and my deduction came back with jealousy. I giggled and Sherlock glanced down at me with a frown. I raised up on my tiptoes and went to kiss his cheek but he moved his head at the last second so that he captured my lips with his own. When we pulled apart he smiled smugly at me and I shook my head at him. "I love you," I reminded him, knowing that he had gotten slightly jealous when I had put my hand on the man's arm.

"Obviously," Sherlock told me and I smacked him on the arm playfully and laughed loudly at that as he chuckled. We looked about the room then and my heart speed up a bit as I caught sight of John for the first time in two years. Nearby, John was sitting alone at a table, checking the inside pocket of his jacket before taking a drink from a glass of water. Sherlock looked across the room at him, then hesitated.

"It's okay love," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me and nodded and I could see just how nervous he was. "It's John. You know John. Jumpers, and tea, and complaining about our experiments," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me again. "If you want we can wait a day or two," I told him and he shook his head at me.

"No. I want…I want to do this now," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him and reached up to cup his cheek. He looked down at me, biting his lip slightly and I recalled a time that seemed so long again when the three of us had been in a cab. Sherlock had just given John his deductions about him and then he turned away and bit his lip nervously, afraid of what John might say. And he always surprised us.

"Together then," I told him and he nodded and bent down, resting his forehead against mine.

"Together," He agreed with me before he rubbed his thumb over the rings on my left hand, something he did often when he needed to remind him of the fact that whatever happened I would be right by his side. A waitress picked up some menus from the bar and walked across in front of us then.

"'Scuse me," She told us and our attention was drawn back to the room.

"So, are we going with subtlety or jumping out of a cake?" I asked Sherlock and he chuckled before thinking.

"I think it would be best if we were subtle. Don't want to spring it all on him at once," Sherlock told me and I nodded in agreement. I spied that there was an empty table for two open right next to John's table and I got an idea into my head.

"I believe you promised me dinner Mr. Holmes," I told Sherlock slyly and he raised an eyebrow at me, a slight smirk on his face.

"Did I Mrs. Holmes?" He asked me and I smiled brightly at that name. I never got tired of hearing him say it. I nodded at him before I pulled him towards John and the table. He kept his hand in mine, his fingers tightening slightly as I led him on, knowing how hard it was for him to approach John.

"You did Mr. Holmes. You married a woman with an eidetic memory," I pointed out and he chuckled. We were laughing and smiling more together than we had in months because now we were finally home. No more running or worry about death. Sherlock and I sat down at the table next to John and he seemed not to notice us at all. Sherlock took the seat that meant he could look directly at John and I sat opposite him, keeping my hand in his. I took one look at John and clamped a hand over my mouth. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at me in amusement and smirked slightly. "That has to go, I can't look at him with it," I told Sherlock and he chuckled as I shook my head ruefully. "Mmm, do you remember that first case that John called A Study in Pink?" I asked Sherlock, raising my voice slightly so John would hear us.

"Yes, if I remember correctly John shot that cabbie," Sherlock said, raising his voice too as I played with the fingers of the hand I was holding. He had put his other hand over the top of mine as we stared across the table at each other.

"Well, he was a bloody awful cabbie," I laughed brightly and Sherlock chuckled at that.

"Do you remember the route that he took us?" Sherlock asked me and I laughed at that and nodded.

"Oh and the Blind Baker. I saved both of your arses at that circus," I pointed out to Sherlock and he groaned at me.

"The Yellow Dragon Circus," Sherlock supplied and I lifted one of my hands and snapped as I pointed at him.

"Yup, that is the one. And we ruined John's date with Sarah. Not that that was a problem though. Getting kidnapped by a Chinese Tong kind of ruins any normal date," I told Sherlock with a shrug. We both glanced over at John to see that he hadn't heard us yet or was ignoring us and was simply looking over a wine menu. "Or the hound at Baskerville, John pulling rank," I told Sherlock a bit louder and a few people at tables close to us looked over at me and eyed me. I raised my eyebrow at them and they turned their head back to their own tables again. I sighed as John still didn't look our way. "This isn't working," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. A waiter passed by our table and Sherlock looked up at him, his attention drawn to the bowtie he was wearing as a part of his uniform. I could see a plan forming in his head as he stood up and grinned down at me. He bent down and kissed the top of my head before dancing off back towards the door. I turned in my seat to watch his progress through the restaurant.

He looked to a table that was near to the door where a couple was sitting. There was a glass of red wine and a glass of water to the man's left. The man had his back to the door and Sherlock circled around so that he would be behind him. I flicked my gaze over at John who was still looking at the wine list and I sighed before watching Sherlock in amusement. He had some idea in his head which might work better than our approach at subtlety. Sherlock smiled to himself and flicked his eyes over to me and I grinned at him and gestured for him to move on with his plan. He walked over to the side of the other couple's table where he picked up the glass of water and poured it down the man's front. The man who was wearing a white shirt, black jacket and a bowtie recoiled and cried out in shock.

"Sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Sherlock apologized loudly and the man lifted his napkin from his lap and started mopping himself with it. Sherlock stepped behind him, pulling the napkin higher up the man's chest. "Please, let me just go to the kitchen and, er, dry that off for you," Sherlock told him and with one smooth tug, he pulled off the man's bowtie and walked away, tying the bowtie around his own neck. Haha, bowties were cool. Continuing across the restaurant, he saw a man at another table taking off his glasses and putting them down on top of the menu he had just been reading. Sherlock walked to his side as I smirked across the restaurant at him. "Finished with that, sir? Allow me to take it for you," Sherlock said and, not paying much attention, the man waved him away. Sherlock picked up the menu and the man's glasses and walked away, putting on the glasses as he went. I giggled behind my hand, finding that the look was actually rather sexy on him in a nerdy detective sort of way. At a nearby table, a woman's small handbag was open beside her. Sherlock spotted something that I couldn't see from our table and he stepped close behind her, offering her the menu he was holding with his right hand while simultaneously taking the menu she was holding with his left hand. "Madam, can I suggest you look at this menu? It's, er, completely identical," Sherlock told her and I laughed at that again and shook my head at him. The woman automatically took the menu from his right hand and he instantly pinched something from her purse which I realized was eyeliner. He circled around back to the table where I was sitting and he grinned down at me as I eyed him up and down.

"Hmm, I like the look," I told Sherlock and he smirked back at me cheekily.

"Obviously, your eyes are dilated," Sherlock said before he reached down and checked my pulse. "And your pulse is elevated. My my Mrs. Holmes if I didn't know any better I would say you like what you see," Sherlock teased me and I stood up and took the eyeliner from him.

"Maybe I'll show you just how much later," I whispered into Sherlock's ear and he shivered as I smirked triumphantly and leaned back. He looked at me hungrily and I bit my lip to hold back a giggle. I was very proud for being able to entice that sort of reaction from him. He told me that only I could ever get that reaction from him and I used it to my advantage. As much as John had changed, so had we. We were a lot more open with each other, but then again we did depend solely upon each other. Everything we had been through had only brought us closer together. I took the eyeliner from Sherlock and drew a small pencil moustache on the top of his lip like he wanted me to. Sherlock leaned down and kissed me once and his eyes held a promise for later. I giggled and smacked him on the arm before turning him around to face John and pushed him slightly towards him. He stood to his left, and one step behind him and I could see that his nervousness had returned.

"Can I 'elp you with anything, sir?" Sherlock asked John in a French accent as he waved the eyeliner pencil around. I coughed to disguise my laughter and Sherlock turned and looked over his shoulder at me with a slight glare.

"Hi, yeah. I'm looking for a bottle of champagne – a good one," John told him, not looking round at him. Oh good, so he could hear us. Maybe he had heard us but believed it was just him hearing things? Champagne though, this was a pretty important date. Wouldn't be the first time we interrupted one.

"Mmm! Well, these are all excellent vintages," Sherlock told him continuing with the French accent as he leaned in closer, trying to get John to look up at him.

"Er, it's not really my area. What do you suggest?" John asked him as he looked over the menu instead of looking up and I shook my head at them.

"Well, you cannot possibly go wrong, but, erm, if you'd like my personal recommendation ...," Sherlock said his French accent becoming a little Captain du Creff-esque and John hummed before Sherlock continued. "...this last one on the list is a favourite of mine," Sherlock said as he gestured at the list with his eyeliner pencil. John nodded but still didn't look up at him and I groaned loudly enough that a few other diners looked my way.

"Pay no attention to the Irish woman who is losing faith in humanity," I told them and they looked away from me quickly as I turned my attention back to my boys and crossed my arms over my chest.

"It is – you might, in fact, say – like a face from ze past," Sherlock tried as he straightened up and took off his glasses and waited expectantly.

"Great. I'll have that one, please," John told him without even bothering to glace at Sherlock and he just finished his glass of red wine. Sherlock looked startled that John hadn't recognized him yet and he looked over his shoulder at me helplessly. I waved him on to continue and he nodded at me.

"It is familiar, but, er, with the quality of surprise!" Sherlock said and he almost lapsed into his own voice on the final word to see if that would get John's attention and he gestured grandly. John grimaced at the taste of his wine, then, still without looking round, handed the wine list to Sherlock who he apparently thought was just the wine waiter.

"Well, er, surprise me," John told him with a note of finality and Sherlock took a look at him, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Certainly endeavouring to, sir," Sherlock told him tetchily, in pretty much his own voice before he walked over to my table. "Anything for you ma'am?" Sherlock asked me, raising his eyebrow as he lapsed back into the French accent.

"Sangria please my love. It's always been a personal favourite of mine," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me and bent down to kiss me before he walked off towards the kitchen. While Sherlock distracted me I missed when John reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box, opening it and looking at the three-stone diamond ring inside, before he closed the box and put it on the table in front of him. I turned back to look at John after staring for a long moment at Sherlock's retreating back, and butt, to find that John's dinner date was re-joining him.

"Oh for the love of all that's bloody holy," I said in a hushed breath of shock as I saw that his date was none other than Mary Morstan. She patted his shoulder before she walked around to her own seat and I put my face into my hands. Mary, my friend Mary was his date. Sure, I said before that they would make a great couple and apparently I had been right, but ten years. I hadn't seen her in ten years and now she was John's girlfriend. Oh bloody hell, this night was getting a bit crazy already.

"Sorry that took so long," Mary told him and I was too focused on staring at her to notice as John snatched the ring box off the table and shoved it back into his pocket. Mary sat down and smiled at him. "You okay?" Mary asked him and I flicked my gaze over at John before I leaned my head against one of my arms. Well, John was in for more than one surprise tonight.

"Yeah, yeah. Me? Fine. I am fine," John told her and I raised my eyebrow at him as Mary smiled sweetly back at him. Smooth Watson, real smooth mate. John chuckled and gazed at her with a delighted look on his face. He looked happy. Really happy and I was so glad that he had found that. He was his old self again or at least the John I remembered.

"Now then, what did you want to ask me?" Mary asked him, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she grinned and John's smile faded and he looked nervous. I raised my eyebrow closer to my hairline as I watched this like some soap opera.

"More wine?" John asked her and I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"No, I'm good with water, thanks," Mary answered him quickly and I giggled behind my hand.

"Watson's trying to get lucky tonight…," I said before I looked in the direction Sherlock had walked to go to the kitchen. "…and so am I," I finished before I looked back at John and Mary.

"Right," John said and he briefly looked away at Mary. Actually, he looked right at me and I froze for a second, waiting for him to recognize me but he didn't and turned back to Mary again.

"So ..." Mary asked him, nodding him along and John finally seemed to strengthen his resolve. This was the man who invaded Afganistan for crying out loud. I remembered when John told me that it wasn't just him. That was a long time ago now though.

"Er, so ... Mary. Listen, erm ... I know it hasn't been long ... I mean, I know we haven't known each other for a long time …," John said and he looked down, clearly struggling and I realized what was going on. I groaned and shook my head.

"Oh blimey, this is more painful the watching Sherlock trying to purpose to me," I said as I watched them, leaning in slightly as I turned in my seat and bounced my foot on my knee.

"Go on," Mary said encouragingly and I nodded at that.

"Yeah, John, go on," I told the man, knowing that neither of them could hear me, but I didn't care.

"Yes, I will. As you know, these last couple of years haven't been easy for me…," John said and I grimaced at that.

"Sorry about that," I apologized, knowing that had been Sherlock and my fault.

"…and meeting you ..." John continued and he looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, meeting you has been the best thing that could have possibly happened," John said before Mary cut in with a comment.

"I agree," Mary told him seriously and the same time I said "Obviously" with a grin on my face.

"What?" John asked her, staring at her in confusion for a moment.

"I agree I'm the best thing that could have happened to you," Mary told him, smiling and John laughed before Mary screwed up her nose apologetically. "Sorry," She apologized while I giggled behind my hand.

"I knew there was a reason why I loved the both of you," I told them even if they weren't listening. My John and Mary. They were so bloody adorable together. I was sad that I missed seeing them together, but now I could make up for that lost time.

"Well, no. That's, um ...," John said and he paused and looked at her. "So ... if you'll have me, Mary, could you see your way, um ...," John struggled and Mary giggled. John cleared his throat and I gestured to them before holding my hands up to my face. "...if you could see your way to ...," John said and I spoke slightly louder in exasperation.

"Just get on with it already!" I said, looking at John and just as he was about to go for it, Sherlock returned. He set a glass of Sangria in front of me before he glided across to John's table, still with the glasses, the ridiculous fake moustache, and the ridiculous fake accent, but now with the added bonus of a bottle of champagne which he showed to John.

"Sir, I think you'll find this vintage exceptionally to your liking," Sherlock told John as Mary shielded her face with her hand so that Sherlock who they thought was a waiter couldn't see her as she giggled silently at John. "It 'as all the qualities of the old, with some of the colour of the new."

"No, sorry, not now, please," John told Sherlock, locking his eyes with Mary.

"Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers ...," Sherlock continued while Mary pulled a face at John. "...suddenly one is aware of staring into ze faces of old friends," Sherlock said as he took off his glasses.

"No, look, seriously ...," John said as he finally lifted his gaze to meet Sherlock's eyes "...could you just ...," John said, trailing of as his face dropped.

"Love, subtly was never John's strong point," I said in my Irish accent as I stood up with my Sangria in hand and wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist as he moved to do the same with me. John's entire body jolted and he stared at us with an expression of utter disbelief.

"Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends, and anonymity to waiters," Sherlock said and I giggled slightly.

"And it looks dead sexy, you left that part out," I told Sherlock, unable to resist and he smirked at me. I was surprised that Mary hadn't recognized me yet but then again, it had been ten years since we last saw each other. She had changed a lot too. I had only recognized her because of the way she laughed but she was a lot different that I remembered her to be. Still the same, but also somehow different. John turned his head towards Mary, then his eyes filled with tears, and he ducked his head momentarily before he stumbled clumsily to his feet.

"John?" Mary asked him in concern as the army doctor straightened up beside me. Sherlock began to move his right hand forward as if expecting John to shake it. John looked down at the table breathing heavily before lifting his head and briefly locking eyes with us. "John, what is it? What?" Mary asked John, sounding worried now and John looked down again, clearly still in shock.

"Well, short version ...," Sherlock said a little awkwardly and John raised his eyes to us again.

"And we mean very short version…," I added before Sherlock and I turned to each other and shared a long look before turning back to John.

"...Not Dead," Sherlock and I said in unison. John stared at us, his face full of pain, shock, and growing anger. Sherlock finally seemed to catch on and looked a little guilty as I bit my lip.

"Bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know. Could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defence, it was very funny," Sherlock said, laughing nervously and not meeting John's eyes, which was probably for the best because John's gaze was slowly turning murderous. In one deft movement I reached up and smacked Sherlock on the back of his head roughly. "Woman!" Sherlock yelled at me and I raised my eyebrow at him before turning back to John.

"And in my defence I did try to tell him no, but there was no stopping him," I told John before looking up at Sherlock who was rubbing the back of his head still.

"Okay, it's not a great defence," Sherlock conceded and I nodded at him. "Did you have to do that?" Sherlock asked me as he lowered his hand from the back of his head.

"Not really love," I told Sherlock and he pulled a face at me. "And yes, I did," I told him and he glared down at me for a second.

"Oh no! You're ...," Mary said, catching on and I nodded at her. "And Lexi is that really you?" Mary asked me as she looked to me and I smiled at her nervously since John was still glaring at Sherlock and me.

"Oh yes," Sherlock told Mary, glancing at her.

"Hi Mary. It's been a while," I told her awkwardly and she looked up at us in surprise.

"Oh, my God," Mary said in shock and I grimaced.

"Not quite," Sherlock quipped back and I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow.

"I think I can get you to say oh God though," I told Sherlock suggestively and he shot me a look. I shrugged at him as I looked back at John before quickly looking away again.

"You two died. You two jumped off a roof," Mary said in horror and I shook my head at her.

"No," Sherlock told her while I said, "Not exactly."

"You two are dead!" Mary said appalled and I raised both of my eyebrows.

"No. I'm quite sure. We checked," Sherlock told her and I glanced sidelong at him.

"Quite thoroughly actually," I added and Sherlock and I shared a look for a long moment before I grimaced at him and gestured to his face.

"Excuse me," Sherlock told Mary and he picked up a napkin from their table and dipped it into Mary's glass of water as I set my glass of Sangria down on their table. I took the napkin from him and eyed him for a long moment.

"I think this counts and you promised," I reminded him with a slight smirk and he sighed heavily and leaned forward, kissing my forehead. I wrinkled my nose up at him. "Don't try to distract me," I told Sherlock and he chuckled at me.

"It doesn't count. It washes off and you're saying I can distract you," Sherlock told me and I clucked my tongue at him and shook my head.

"Fine, you're excused for now," I told Sherlock as I started to rub off his moustache.

"Does, er, does yours rub off, too?" Sherlock asked John trying to sound nonchalant as he met John's furious gaze which hadn't lessened even during our banter.

"Seriously John, Watson on your face?" I joked before laughing nervously as he turned his glare on to me. The tight smile which John directed at us bared absolutely no humour at all. Mary's anger was clear in her voice as she spoke.

"Oh my God, oh my God. Do you have any idea what you two have done to him?" Mary asked us and I looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, which is why I left him the video. I planned ahead… sort of but I couldn't calculate for everything John," I told her before turning back to the army doctor. "I tried, but I couldn't," I told John as Sherlock and I looked down nervously.

"Okay, John, I'm suddenly realising we probably owe you some sort of an apology," Sherlock told John who clenched his left fist and slammed it down onto the table. It was a credit to the manufacturers of the table that he didn't shatter it. I flinched as John hunched over his fist. Well then, possibly number two. Anger.

"All right, just ... John? Just keep ...,"Mary said and John pulled in a deep shaky breath before looking up at Sherlock and me.

"Two years," John said in a whisper, talking to us for the first time and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as Sherlock rubbed circles on the small of my back. John shook his head, dragging in another long breath and blowing it out again before starting to straighten up. "Two years," John repeated in a tight whisper. He moaned and slumped down over his hands again. Sherlock had the decency to look awkward and I just wanted to pull him into a hug, but I of course refrained from doing so. John glanced up at us momentarily. "I thought ...," John said and he groaned, unable to continue and gestured helplessly. Mary stared at him in sympathy and I blinked slowly as I waited for him to speak. John finally straightened and turns to Sherlock and me fully. "I thought ... you two were dead," John finally got out and his face began to fill with anger again. "Hmm?" John asked us and he breathed rapidly and shallowly. "Now, you two let me grieve, hmm? How could you do that?" John asked us and Sherlock looked down, biting his lip as I calmly met John's eyes, my expression regretful. "How?" John asked us softly but furiously.

"John please," I told him and he looked at me and opened his mouth slightly before closing it again and whimpered and I realized I had just said the same thing to him as I had on the roof. "I'm sorry," I told him instantly and I reached out for him before lowering my hand awkwardly.

"Wait – before you do anything that you might regret ...," Sherlock told John as John's breathing became more intense. John half-groaned again as I looked up at Sherlock and frowned, reading his face.

"Don't you dare!" I told Sherlock, already seeing that look in his eyes and I knew that he was going to say something that really wasn't going to help the current situation.

"...um, one question. Just let me ask one question. Um ...," Sherlock said and I glared up at him.

"No Sherlock. No!" I told him sternly but he continued to ignore me. John looked at Sherlock, his eyes still full of fury.

"Are you really gonna keep that?!" Sherlock asked John almost giggling as he gestured towards his own top lip. I groaned and took a step back from the table as I buried my face in my hands. Sherlock grinned as he turned his head to look at Mary. She laughed in disbelief as I gestured to Sherlock behind his back in a "yeah" sort of gesture. John drew in one more long breath, then hurled himself at Sherlock, grabbing his lapels and bundling him back across the floor until Sherlock lost his footing and they both fell to the floor, John on top of Sherlock and trying to throttle him. Mary and various waiters ran to pull John off and I gave the army doctor exactly fifteen seconds before I cut in.

"John I know it's hard to resist right now but could you please try to refrain from strangling my husband?" I called loudly over the din as I walked forward and waved away the waiters who took one look at me and listened. Mary and John both froze as Sherlock panted under John, his face screwed up in pain. I knew that landing on his back wouldn't have been good for his injuries. John turned, taking his hands away from Sherlock's through as he looked up at me in shock before scrambling to his feet.

"You…you two got…married?" John asked us in disbelief as I walked over to Sherlock and helped him to his feet. I groaned at the same time Sherlock did before I reached for my side quickly.

"Lexi," Sherlock whispered quickly and I shook my head at him.

"I'm fine, just pulled my stitches a little. Are you alright?" I asked Sherlock as we both straightened up and he nodded at me quickly. We turned and looked up at John and Mary who were both staring at us in shock and disbelief and John looked at me for an answer to his question as the entire restaurant and staff watched us. "Yeah…no, well technically yes and then again no. It's really rather complicated, but I'd like to have my husband in generally one piece so…," I told John and he laughed in disbelief before the owner of the restaurant came out and personally escorted the four of us from his restaurant and banned us from ever coming back.

Slightly later, the four of us had relocated to a café not that far way. Sherlock and I sat on one side of the table wearing our coats now in order to hide the fact that I had a few blood spots on the side of my dress. I had checked my stitches to find that they only had bleed a little bit. Sherlock had his fingers steepled in front of him and I had one hand on his arm and my other hand resting on his knee under the table, squeezing it slightly in comfort because I could see the pain in his eyes from his injuries. John hadn't been all too gentle with him. John and Mary, also in their coats, sat side by side opposite us with their arms folded, Mary leaning back in her chair across from me. I met John's gaze and flicked my eyes over to Mary every so often. She was eyeing me and kept looking between Sherlock and me as John was doing.

"You two got married?" John asked us shortly, speaking up for the first time and breaking the silence that had fallen over us. I looked over at Sherlock raised my eyebrow at him before looking back over at John and nodding slowly.

"Yes…sort of, like I said it's complicated," I told John and he fixed me with a hard look.

"Complicated?" He asked me, laughing humourlessly. "My two best friends come back from the dead and I only found out they were engaged right before they jumped off of a bloody roof because they didn't see fit to tell me before then and now I find out that they are suddenly married and all you have to tell me is that it's complicated?" John asked me and I looked away from him and sighed heavily and Sherlock slipped his hand into mine.

"John we couldn't tell you before then," I told him and he tried to cut me off but I spoke over him. "No listen. Sherlock and I got a message from Moriarty after we returned from his parent's house, after he proposed to me. Moriarty wanted to start the game again. We thought the less people who knew the better. Especially once we figured out what we had to do," I told Him and Sherlock picked up for me, trying to explain things to John.

"We calculated that there were thirteen possibilities once we'd invited Moriarty onto the roof," Sherlock explained to John and Mary and I looked at Sherlock and snorted. He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Problem?" Sherlock asked me and I chuckled slightly at him.

"And by "we" you must mean me. I calculated that there were thirteen possibilities, you tried to distract me," I reminded Sherlock and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Which I'm ashamed to say worked," I told Sherlock and Mary made a sound across the table which I realized was a laugh. She hid her mouth behind her hand as John looked over at her in disbelief. She shrugged at him before Sherlock continued.

"We wanted to avoid dying if at all possible," Sherlock told John and I recalled how we had looked around the roof quickly and at all of the surrounding buildings while we visually calculated trajectories, angles, and even the possibility of a ladder being lowered from a helicopter. "The first scenario involved hurling ourselves into a parked hospital van filled with washing bags. Impossible. The angle was too steep and with the both of us, impossible. Secondly, a system of Japanese wrestling ...," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.

"You know, for a genius you can be remarkably thick," John told Sherlock and he flicked his gaze over to me. "She at least gets it," John said and I shrugged slightly and looked away from him awkwardly.

"What?" Sherlock asked John in confusion,

"I don't care how you two faked it, Sherlock. I wanna know why," John told Sherlock tightly and I sighed and turned back to look at him.

"Why? Because Moriarty had to be stopped," Sherlock told John in bewilderment and he looked at John's expression as Mary gave me a questioning look. Well, I guess he didn't come up much in polite conversation. "Oh. 'Why' as in ...," Sherlock said, catching on as he lifted a finger, pointing it in John's direction. John and Mary both nodded once and I looked at Sherlock. "I see. Yes. 'Why?' That's a little more difficult to explain," Sherlock told John and I nodded once.

"And it's a fairly long story as well," I added and John eyed the both of us with a glare.

"I've got all night," John told us darkly and I sighed and clenched my teeth slightly. He wasn't exactly making this easy on us.

"Actually, um, that was mostly Mycroft's idea, well Mycroft and Lexi's," Sherlock told John clearing his throat and looking down.

"Oh, so it's your brother's plan?" John asked Sherlock and I could see that that was a bad subject for John. I immediately deduced that John hadn't talked to Mycroft, probably since our funerals. We had been there of course.

"And his fiancée's," I told John as Mary pointed to Sherlock and me.

"Oh, they would have needed a confidant ...," Mary told John and Sherlock nodded at her in agreement and hummed before Mary trailed off at John's look. "Sorry," Mary told John and she refolded her arms as she frowned and looked down. John turned back to Sherlock and me and I grimaced at him and Mary.

"Wait, fiancée?" John asked me, finally catching on to what I had said and I nodded at him as I frowned in confusion. "Mycroft has a fiancée? Is everyone married except for me?" John asked me and Mary looked at him awkwardly before John shuffled in his seat.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I asked John in disbelief and he shook his head once.

"But they were the only ones? The only ones who knew?" John asked us and Sherlock and I closed our eyes briefly.

"Couple of others," Sherlock told him, forcing the sentence out as we opened our eyes again. John lowered his head and Sherlock talked quickly to explain. "It was a very elaborate plan – it had to be. Lexi and Joanna had been planning for several things that might happen. The next of the thirteen possibilities ...," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.

"Who else?" John asked us in a despairing whisper as he looked back up at us. "Who else knew?" John asked us again and Sherlock and I looked at each other, the both of us hesitating. "Who?" John asked us again and I sighed.

"Molly," Sherlock told John carefully.

"Molly?" John asked us angrily and I nodded at him.

"John," Mary said softly as I sighed again. This wasn't exactly going to go well if when we tried to explain to him he just kept getting angrier.

"Molly Hooper – some of my homeless network, Joanna, Mycroft, and that pathologist friend of Lexi's Liz, and that's all," Sherlock told John and Mary as Sherlock lowered his hands and reached for me, pulling my chair closer to him which wasn't missed by Mary.

"Okay," John said and he sat up a little and glanced round at Mary, who gave him a sympathetic smile. He turned to Sherlock and me again. "Okay. So just your brother, your brother's fiancée, Molly Hooper, Liz who we hardly know, and a hundred tramps," John said and Sherlock chuckled slightly.

"No! Twenty-five at most," Sherlock told John and I sighed as John hurled himself across the table and attempted to throttle Sherlock again. I stood up quickly at the same time as Mary and I was ready to do what I needed to help Sherlock. John punched Sherlock then and I made a nose of irritation as I moved towards them both.

"John. Really?!" I asked the army doctor in exasperation. "Husband. You. Off," I told John and he looked back at me and let go of Sherlock who caught his breath for the second time. He nodded at me once to let me know he was alright before the four of us were escorted out by the owner once again.

Slightly later we had relocated to a kebab shop just a little further down the street. John and Mary stood leaning with their backs against the counter. Sherlock had taken his coat off and I was holding it in my arms as he held a paper napkin to a cut on his lower lip. He looked at the blood on the napkin, wincing, then pressed it to his lip again. I sighed and Mary took his coat from me for a second as I stood in front of him and took the napkin from him. From my coat I produced a small first aid kit and I wiped his cut with an antiseptic wipe before kissing the side of his lips. I stepped back from him as the bleeding stopped and threw out the trash in a bin before taking his coat back from Mary. The both of us looked at John as he raised his head, avoiding Sherlock and my gaze.

"Seriously, it's not a joke?" Sherlock asked John as he gestured to his own top lip. "You're-you're really keeping this?" Sherlock asked John who cleared his throat and finally met Sherlock's gaze. He still couldn't look me in the eyes. I knew he felt guilt for hurting Sherlock.

"Yeah," John told us clearing his throat awkwardly and Sherlock looked up before looking down at him.

"You're sure?" Sherlock asked him with a frown as I bit my lip to hold back a giggle.

"Mary likes it," John said, nodding his head in her direction and she scrunched her nose up slightly.

"Mmmmmm, no she doesn't," Sherlock told John and I smacked him on the arm playfully.

"She does," John told him quickly and I looked at Mary and rolled my eyes with a grin as I pointed to the boys. She smiled at me slightly though it was a bit strained.

"She doesn't," Sherlock told John again and John glanced briefly round at Mary, then did a double-take. She made incoherent apologetic noises and I reached out and patted his shoulder comfortingly. He didn't shake me off which was a good sign.

"Oh don't" Mary told him as she looked at John and Sherlock raised his napkin to his lip again as it started to bleed slightly.

"Oh!" John said in embarrassment and he tried to cover his moustache with his hand. "Brilliant," John finished and I sighed and looked at him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry – I didn't know how to tell you," Mary told John, shaking her head at him and I laughed slightly.

"I know, telling him things…," I started and John rounded on me with a glare. "Okay, too soon," I said and John breathed in sharply.

"No, no, this is charming!" John said as he pointed angrily and Sherlock and me, clearly referring to our talent of instant deduction. "I've really missed this!" John said and he looked down and took and aggressive step towards Sherlock and got into his face as I reached out and put my arm between them, eyeing John wearily. "One Word, Sherlock, Lexi," John started off in a raised voice as he looked at me next. "That is all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you two were alive," John finished thunderously and he stepped back, breathing heavily.

"And would you have believed us unless you saw us in person?" I asked John as I eyed him angrily and John turned and looked at me, glaring. "Really John? Answer me that, would you have believed us or anyone else if we called you?" I continued and John's expression softened just slightly. "How else were we supposed to tell you we were alive?! We haven't been in London for two years and not because we didn't want to be. There was never a point that we could have told you John and if there was we would have. We wanted to," I told John, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Sherlock put his arm around my waist and drew me to him as he saw me getting upset.

"We've nearly been in contact so many times, but ...," Sherlock told him quietly as John scoffed and I looked up at Sherlock and lowered my head onto his shoulder for a minute. John laughed in disbelief and I raised my hand and looked at the army doctor. "...I worried that, you know, you might say something indiscreet," Sherlock finished and I bit my lip nervously. That was why we hadn't told John. If he knew we were alive, he might not be able to convince Moriarty's men we were dead. We didn't know if his network would still be watching him or not. If John thought we were dead then he would mourn like we needed him to and by mourning he would stay safe.

"What?" John asked Sherlock as he turned back to us quickly in disbelief.

"Well, you know, let the cat out of the bag. Lexi told me it was ridiculous but we had to be sure," Sherlock told John who stepped closer to us again, looking angry again.

"Oh, so this is my fault?!" John asked us and I flinched at the anger in his voice as Mary laughed with disbelief.

"Oh, God!" Mary said and I looked over at her and shook my head.

"Mary please don't go there," I told her and she made a face at me. We might have been friends before but she was also looking out for John now. There was a lot of tension between the two of us.

"Why am I the only one who thinks that this is wrong – the only one reacting like a human being?!" John shouted angrily and everyone in the shop looked up at us.

"Over-reacting," Sherlock told John and I looked up at him and sighed.

"Not helping love," I told him and he looked down at me and rolled his eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed heavily.

""Over-reacting"?!" John asked Sherlock furiously.

"John!" Mary shouted to try and get his attention.

""Over-reacting." So you two fake your own deaths ...," John said, still shouting as everyone watched us in the shop now and Sherlock tried to shush him "...and you two waltz in 'ere large as bloody life ... and you two got bloody married…," John continued to shout as Sherlock tried to shush him again, this time more loudly. "...but I'm not supposed to have a problem with that, no, because Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna think it's a perfectly OKAY THING TO DO!" John finished, starting of more quietly before he finished more loudly again.

"Shut up, John! We don't want everyone knowing we're still alive!" Sherlock shouted over John in order to be heard.

"Oh, so it's still a secret, is it?" John shouted loudly and I looked at Mary who was just watching them, not knowing how to step in and I sighed heavily. I guess it was my job once again.

"Yes! It's still a secret," Sherlock said loudly and he looked round at the other customers in the shop who were all staring at us. "Promise you won't tell anyone," Sherlock said causally and I took in a deep breath.

"Swear to God!" John shouted angrily and sarcastically. He finally looked round at the other customers and backed down a little, blowing out a long breath. That was when I reached up and smacked the both of them in the back of the head. They turned to me, both glaring and I gave them both dark looks.

"Enough, the both of you!" I shouted over them and John looked at me in shock, never having heard me shout before. Sherlock was more used to it since he had heard me shout to him many times in the last two years but even he looked slightly surprised by my sudden outburst. "John, you might just have to. We're being very serious. No one can know that we are here in London or even alive yet," I told John and he blew out a loud breath. Sherlock stepped closer to him and spoke quietly.

"London is in danger, John. There's an imminent terrorist attack and we need your help," Sherlock told John who stared at him in amazement, then turned to throw a quirky 'can you believe this guy?!' look at Mary. He turned back to Sherlock and me, still not looking happy that I had hit him.

"My help?" John asked us in disbelief and Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he deduced John's genuine reaction to his request, then he smiled. I got a rather bad feeling again and I took a deep breath before sighing heavily.

"You have missed this. Admit it. The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins, just the three of us against the rest of the world ... Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys," Sherlock told John and I had two seconds warning before John grabbed Sherlock's lapels, reared his head back and then moved in for the kill. Sherlock's nose started bleeding from the force of the head-butt that John had rammed him with and blood started gushing out of it. That was when I did the only thing I could think of as John tried to ram Sherlock up against the wall, I jumped right onto his back and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, not even caring about my stitches which pulled a lot.

"Bloody freaking hell John!" I shouted loudly before he let go of Sherlock to get me off of him. I got down of my own accord and John rounded at me but I poked him right in the chest angrily. "My husband! I get that you're angry but violence is not going to be the solution to this!" I shouted at John angrily before we were shoved out of the shop by the shop's owner. I grabbed a large stack of napkins on my way out and then grabbed Sherlock's hand as he held his nose. I helped him into his coat again after I handed him over the napkins. We stood just outside the door with Mary and he tilted his head back a little as I directed him too, blood still running from his nose.

"I don't understand," Sherlock told me as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and held a paper napkin underneath.

"I know sweetie," I told him as I rubbed my hand soothing up his arm, not able to do anything for his nose right now.

"We said we're sorry. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? And why did only I get hit?" Sherlock asked Mary and me and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Oh thanks," I told Sherlock and he groaned.

"I didn't mean…," Sherlock started and I nodded at him and chuckled slightly.

"I know love, only teasing. John would never hit a woman. Sorry, you had to take the brunt of it," I told Sherlock as Mary stood beside us awkwardly while John was a few yard up the road hailing a cab.

"Gosh. You two don't know anything about human nature, do you?" Mary asked us in disbelief and I looked over at her and shrugged.

"Never really did before did I Mary?" I asked her and she nodded slightly as Sherlock lowered his head and looked at her.

"Mmm, nature? No. Human? ... No," Sherlock told her and I chuckled slightly at that as she also laughed a bit.

"You two seem to do just fine together though," Mary said, looking between the both of us stiffly. "I'll talk him round," Mary told us and Sherlock took the napkin from under his nose and looked at her curiously as I raised my eyebrow at her.

"You will?" Sherlock asked Mary as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"Oh yeah," Mary told us, smiling confidently and I looked up at Sherlock and nodded ever so slightly. We turned back to look at Mary closely and we both entered into our deduction mode. I frowned ever so slightly as I noticed things I had never noticed about her before. It had been ten years but she was different now, vastly different than how I remembered her to be.

**Only child**

**Linguist **

**Clever**

**Part time nurse **

**Shortsighted**

**Guardian **

**Bakes Own Bread **

**Disillusioned **

**Cat Lover **

**Romantic **

**Appendix Scar **

**Lib Dem **

**Secret Tattoo**

**Size 12 **

**Liar**

The last deduction made me blink quickly and Mary just smiled back at us before she looked around as John called for her. I took advantage of her distraction to look up at Sherlock.

"Mary," John called as Sherlock and I shared a long look having come to the same conclusions about Mary and I reached into me coat before taking out a battered looking leather bound journal.

"Mary… just, give this to him please. Tell him to read it. That's all he needs to do even if he doesn't want to talk to us," I told Mary as she turned back to us and I handed her the book. She frowned at me in confusion as she took it from me.

"I will. Despite everything it's good to see you again Lexi," Mary told me and I nodded at her and smiled slightly.

"You too May," I told Mary, using my old nickname for her. She smiled at us one last time before she walked over to John. The two of them got into a taxi and drove away. Sherlock and I watched him go before I looked up at Sherlock. "Well love, I think we have a few more rounds before Baker Street tonight," I told Sherlock with a sigh and he nodded at me. "He'll come around," I told Sherlock as he looked down at me with a slight bit of hurt in his gaze. "It's John. He's angry now, but he'll come around," I assured Sherlock before I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly. We held each other for a long moment before I looked up at him to find that his nose was still trickling. "Let's get you cleaned up love," I told Sherlock before I let go of him and walked over to the edge of the curb and whistled loudly. A cab slowed down and we got into the back of it together, the cabbie looking us over, eyeing Sherlock's nose especially. "Bart's hospital," I told the cabbie and he nodded at me before he pulled out into the street.

**Third Person POV**

In the taxi just after they drove away from Sherlock and Lexi who watched them from the curbing, John indignantly turned to Mary.

"Can you believe their nerve?" John asked Mary in outrage and she turned to him, smiling.

"I like him," Mary told him and John looked at her in disbelief.

"What?" John asked her in confusion.

"I like him," Mary said again, shrugging and still smiling. "And I already loved Lexi. They're really sweet together. I'm happy for her, she's never had that before," Mary told John before she turned away and looked out of the window. John narrowed his eyes, looking completely bewildered.

Across town at Bart's Hospital Molly Hooper walked into a locker room, rolling the soreness out of her shoulder as she walked, and took out her keys and opened her locker. As the door swung open, the mirror on the inside revealed Sherlock and Lexi standing behind her. She gasped and turned to look at them, starting to smile.

"Hey Molls," Lexi said with a laugh and Molly did even care and darted towards both of them, pulling them both into a tight hug. Both detectives groaned and Molly pulled back slightly.

"Oh sorry, sorry," Molly apologized sheepishly and Lexi waved her off.

"No, you're good. Just my stitches," Lexi told her and Molly looked at her worriedly.

"Are you alright?" Molly asked her and before Lexi could reply, Sherlock answered for her.

"Actually can you look at them? I think she pulled them earlier," Sherlock told her and Molly nodded as she moved Lexi over to sit down on the bench.

"We're are they?" Molly asked her as Lexi slid off her coat revealing a bit of blood staining her side.

"My side," Lexi told Molly who looked up at Sherlock and bit her lip.

"Um, you'd need to take your dress off then," Molly said awkwardly and Lexi laughed.

"Don't worry sweetie, nothing he hasn't seen before," Lexi said as she raised her left hand.

"You got married!" Molly squealed and Lexi laughed and nodded as Sherlock stood watching them with an eyebrow raised. "Oh congratulations!" Molly said happily as she hugged Lexi and then Sherlock again who patted her back awkwardly. The two detectives caught up with Molly for a bit longer and Molly checked on Lexi's stitches, having to redo them a bit again before they took their leave of her. They had one more meeting before heading back to Baker Street that they needed to take care of.

In an underground car park, Greg Lestrade walked across the area searching his pockets as he went. Behind him, Sherlock and Lexi's distinctive silhouettes quickly walked past and disappeared into the shadows of an unlit area of the car park. Unaware of this, Greg continued rummaging in various pockets. Something metallic clinked noisily in the darkness and Greg looked around but he couldn't see anything and resumed his search until he finally found what he was looking for. Tipping a cigarette out of the pack, he stuck it into his mouth, put the rest of the pack back into his pocket, and then flicked his lighter and raised it towards the end of the cigarette.

"Those things'll kill you," Sherlock said, his voice cutting through the darkness and Greg froze, the flame not quite reaching the end of his cigarette as he stared into the distance while his brain caught up with what and who he just heard.

"Oh the irony. I remember a conversation between us when you told me to quit for my health," Lexi's voice rang out through the darkness with a slight chuckled and Greg finally lowered his lighter and took his fag out of his mouth.

"Ooh, you bastard! And you…you…," Greg said, searching for a word as Lexi and Sherlock walked out of the darkness towards him.

"Don't finish that sentence," Lexi told him as Greg caught her smirk.

"It's time to come back. You've been letting things slide, Graham," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted and looked towards Sherlock.

"Greg!" Lestrade corrected in exasperation while Lexi reminded Sherlock, "Greg love,"

"Greg," Sherlock corrected himself and Greg stared at the two detectives for a long moment, his lips slowly lifting to reveal his teeth. Grimacing, he lunged towards Sherlock and Lexi and wrapped his arms around the necks of the pair of them and pulled them into a tight hug. Sherlock and Lexi both groaned as they had for Molly's hug but they tolerated Greg's affection. That was until Greg pulled back from the hug. Lexi's arm immediately drew back and Greg felt a burst of pain blossom over his jawbone as Lexi's fist made contact with his face.

"That felt good. I've been waiting to do that for two years," Lexi said as she shook out her hand and flexed her fingers as Greg clutched at his face.

"What the?!" Greg asked her and he groaned as he rubbed his sore cheek. "The hell was that for?!" Greg shouted at Lexi as she looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What was that for!?" Lexi asked him as she took a step towards him. Greg quickly took a few steps back and looked to Sherlock who seemed to just be letting her get this out of her system. "You listened to them you utter bastard!" Lexi said as she smacked him roughly on every word as he shielded his face with his arms. "You knew how Anderson and Donovan felt about us and you went and bloody listen to them! How could you!" Lexi shouted at him and Greg looked back at her, lowering his arms when he heard the note of hurt in her voice. He looked down guiltily unable to meet her eyes. "You knew what happened to me when I was kidnapped, what they did! Why would you ever listen to them? You, you were the only one who listened to us and believed us and you knew us. How could you have ever thought we could do something like that Gregory Lestrade?!" Lexi asked him and Greg flinched under her use of his full name. "Then you went and bloody used my first name! I hate it… seriously hate it. What was my mother thinking," Lexi asked him and Sherlock chuckled behind her as Lexi smiled slightly and sighed, calming down a bit.

"I… I don't know what to tell you Lexi," Lestrade started and Lexi looked at him as Sherlock stepped closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I didn't know what to think or what to believe and Donovan wanted to go to the Chief. I had to cover my own arse and I was thinking that if it really wasn't you we could get you out of there pretty quickly," Lestrade told them and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry… I know that's a pretty poor excuse for what I did, but I am truly sorry," Lestrade apologized to the both of them and he stared back at the two detectives before Lexi stepped forward and gave him a hug.

"Well then, I think we're all good again," Lexi said and Sherlock chuckled as Lestrade laughed nervously then rubbed his jaw again.

"You've got a hell of a left hook," Lestrade commented and Lexi's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Crap sorry!" Lexi told him as she looked at his chin in the low lighting. "I keep forgetting I'm wearing my rings," Lexi said as she looked back at Sherlock and giggled slightly and Lestrade's eyes quickly shot to her ringer finger on her left hand.

"Bloody hell! What did I miss?" Lestrade asked them as he saw a gold band on her finger that was pretty beat up along with a beautiful diamond ring. He looked at Sherlock's left hand and saw a gold band on his ring finger as well that was just as beat up. "You got married!?" Lestrade shouted in disbelief.

"Sort of. We got engaged after Baskerville but we really didn't get to tell anyone what with what was going on," Lexi told him and Greg pulled the two detectives into another tight hug.

"Congratulations. We should have had a beating pool. Took you two long enough. I'm happy for you two," Lestrade told them as he pulled back from the hug and Lexi smirked at him.

"We're rather happy too," Lexi said with a laugh and Greg chuckled as he looked up at Sherlock who was staring down at Lexi with an expression that was truly a sight to behold. He gazed at her with such adoration and love that Lestrade almost had to do a double take to see if it really was coming from Sherlock. Lexi had always been the exception though. Good on them. Good on them both.

Across London John and Mary were in bed. Mary was asleep, but John stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Two years and then they return. He didn't know what to think. Mary had tried to give him the journal but he refused to read it. He refused to have anything to do with either of them right now. He was angry, he was so angry with them. This night was supposed to be perfect and now it had been completely ruined. John laid there, unable to sleep as he knew that Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna were alive and breathing somewhere in London.

In 221A Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen washing up a pan with the radio on.

"...with an anti-terrorism bill this important, the government feels duty-bound to push through the legislation with all due expe...," The reporter on the radio said. Mrs. Hudson heard the main front door being opened and she turned down the volume and walked to her front door and opened it, brandishing her pan in front of her. The front door closed, and two familiar silhouettes appeared behind the frosted window of the internal door. Mrs. Hudson stared at it in disbelief before Sherlock and Lexi pushed the door open and looked at her. She screams hysterically and Lexi sighed.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," Lexi said when the older woman had finally stopped screaming. Mrs. Hudson didn't let her say anything else before she had pulled the Irish girl and the consulting detective into a tight hug that they received like all of the others. "Oh, it's so good to be home," Lexi said as Mrs. Hudson pulled back and planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. Sherlock chuckled and Lexi laughed, his deep baritone chuckle mixing with Lexi's high pitched bell laugh. Yes, Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna were back at Baker Street and London would never be the same again.


	87. The Consulting Detectives of 221B

**Hello Sweeties! What can I say, we are eight five chapters in. And the case continues. Our detectives our back, they are married, officially though not legally, and Mary decidedly likes the both of them together. I think you all might notice that writing season three was my absolute favourite. There are a lot of moments between out detectives now and that isn't going to change. They are offically back and let's see some more Reichenbach theories, by the way, this entire case has several extra theories. Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight Five- The Consulting Detectives of 221B<strong>

**Third Person POV**

Sherlock took out his phone and selected a speed dial. The answering phone began to ring below him as John got out of the taxi and raised his phone to his ear as he trotted towards the hospital.

"Hello?" John answered.

"John," Sherlock said calmly into the phone which Sherlock had on speaker.

"Hey, Sherlock, you and Lexi okay?" John asked him quickly, feeling relieved to be hearing from one of them

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," Sherlock ordered him and John frowned slightly.

"No, I'm coming in," John told him and Lexi took in a deep breath beside Sherlock.

"Just do as I ask. Please," Sherlock told John frantically, his voice taking on an emotion that John had never heard before and that scared him slightly.

"Please John," Lexi said, her voice slightly thick and John took in a deep breath as he heard her voice come through the phone too.

"Where?" John asked them, turning back and looking around bewildered. Something wasn't right. Sherlock and Lexi paused for a moment while John walked back along the road, then Sherlock spoke urgently.

"Stop there," Sherlock ordered him and the army doctor did as he was told.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he heard only quiet breathing coming from the Irish girl over the phone.

"Okay, look up. We're on the rooftop," Sherlock told him and John turned and looked up, his face filling with horror as he saw the unmistakeable forms of Sherlock and Lexi, standing on the ledge of the roof. It was hard not to recognize that distinctive shade of red hair.

"Oh God," John breathed in horror as he saw their coats blowing slightly in the wind, along with Lexi's hair. Sherlock's arm was around Lexi's waist and she had one of her hands on his chest.

"We ... we ... we can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this," Sherlock told him, the phone between the two of them.

"What's going on?" John asked them anxiously as they stared at each other, John from the ground and Sherlock and Lexi from the rooftop.

"An apology. It's all true," Sherlock told him calmly.

"Every word of it was true John,' Lexi said, her voice not as thick as efore, but John could still hear the emotion in it.

"Wh-what?" John stammered in confusion.

"Everything they said about us. We invented Moriarty," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi looked around briefly to their enemy's grinning body lying behind them. On the ground, John stared up at his friends in disbelief.

"It was all game John, us meeting you. Sherlock and I had already knew each other and we kept it from Mycroft," Lexi told him, her voice light and sounding normal again.

"Why are you saying this?" John asked them brokenly as Sherlock and Lexi turned back to look down at him.

"We're fakes," Sherlock told him, his voice breaking.

"Lexi, Sherlock ...," John said, trailing off as he didn't know what else to say.

"The newspapers were right all along. We want you to tell Lestrade; we want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that we created Moriarty for our own purposes," Sherlock told him, his voice sounding tearful.

"We just wanted to be important, the great detectives, but it got out of hand. The lie got to be too much for us to be able to continue," Lexi told him, her voice thick again and John could tell that she was crying now.

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, Lexi, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you two knew all about my sister, right?" John asked them getting angrily that they would even be saying this to him.

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock told him and John shook his head slightly as he stared up at them.

"You two could," John told them and Sherlock and Lexi laughed as they gazed down at their friend, a tear dripping from each of their chins.

"We researched you. Before we met we discovered everything that we could to impress you," Sherlock said and he sniffed quietly.

"We wanted to impress you because we knew that if you believed everyone else would too," Lexi told him, shaking her head as she spoke thickly, her voice catching slightly.

"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," Sherlock told John who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head repeatedly.

"No. All right, stop it now," John told them as he started to walk towards the hospital entrance, determined to go and stop them before they did anything drastic.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock told John urgently and John stopped and backed up, holding his hand up to Sherlock and Lexi in capitulation.

"All right," John told them, doing whatever he could to keep them from moving. Breathing rapidly, Sherlock had his own hand stretched out towards his friend, Lexi taking the phone from him in her free hand.

"Keep your eyes fixed on us," Sherlock told him, his voice becoming frantic. "Please, will you do this for us?" Sherlock asked him. On the rooftop's edge, two dummies had been dressed in replicas of Sherlock's coat and scarf and Lexi's coat and scarf. Sherlock's was wearing a curly dark wig and a life-sized photo of Sherlock's face has been stuck on the front of its head while the same had been done to Lexi's with a long red wig and a life-sized photo of her face. One of Lexi's hands was raised to hold a phone and Sherlock's arms was wrapped around Lexi's waist.

"What-what's happening? What's going on?" John asked them frantically. A few feet behind the dummies, Sherlock and Lexi were sitting on the roof with their backs against a low chimney. Jim Moriarty was sitting beside Lexi so that she was sitting between the boys. Both Sherlock and Lexi were holding a rope to keep their dummies upright. Lexi spoke tearfully into another phone that Sherlock was holding near their mouths.

"John please," Lexi pleaded with him. "For us, just keep your eyes on us," Lexi said quickly, her voice trembling perfectly.

"Do what?" John asked them in confusion as he stared up at them with his mouth open.

"This phone call – it's, er ... it's our note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked him and John shook his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he was beginning to understand hit him, then he raised it again, his voice shaky. Beside Lexi, Jim lowered his head and giggled quietly. Sherlock took the phone away from his and Lexi's mouths and angrily but silently shushed him as Lexi nudged him in the ribs.

"Leave a note when?" John asked them his voice broken.

"Goodbye, John," Sherlock and Lexi told him in unison their voices both calm.

"No. Don't," John told them urgently, shaking his head. Sherlock switched the phone off and he and Lexi flicked their ropes and the dummies toppled over the edge of the roof. Jim chuckled, and John's horrified voice could be heard screaming from ground level.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" John shouted in horror and Lexi bit her lip.

"Oh-ho!" Jim said before he, Sherlock, and Lexi laughed as if delighted that their plan had worked. They turned and looked at each other in turn, still giggling, but when their eyes met their smiles slowly begin to fade as if they were starting to realise something or to feel something new. Sherlock frowned a little, looking puzzled, but Jim and Lexi waited patiently for him to catch up. After a few moments Sherlock worked it out and both men began to lean towards Lexi. They started kissing her neck and she brought her arms up and put them around their shoulders as she ran her fingers through their hair before….

"What?! Are you out of your mind?!" Anderson shouted in a horrified voice. He was standing in his living room, staring down at a dark-haired young woman who was just sharing her story about how it was done with the group. The girl just shrugged at him as she stared up at him.

"I don't see why not. It's just as plausible as some of your theories," The young woman told him in a thick accent. Behind her, the walls of the room were absolutely covered with notes, photographs and Post It notes. Pieces of red string linked some of the paperwork together, some of the strings even crossing the room. The young woman was not the only person in the room with Anderson – six or seven others were squeezed onto the furniture. At least three of them were wearing deerstalker hats, one was wearing a Sherlock-like coat and scarf, another was wearing a Lexi like coat and scarf and had obviously dyed red hair, and the last two were wearing Lexi like fedoras.

"Look, if you're not going to take it seriously, Laura, you can ...," Anderson told her as he made a 'get out' gesture. He was not going to sit around and listen to that. Anderson took this very seriously and he would never believe that Moriarty and the detectives worked together.

"I do take it seriously," The woman, Laura, said angrily. She looked disapprovingly around at the others. "I don't think we should wear hats," Laura said and Anderson looked at her angrily as some of the group looked offended.

"I founded 'The Empty Hearse' so like-minded people could meet, discuss theories ...," Anderson told Laura as he choked on his words and stepped closer to Laura, looking down at her angrily. "Sherlock and Lexi are still out there," Anderson told her angrily and Laura rolled her eyes at him. "I'm convinced of it," Anderson told her but Laura's eyes had drifted to the TV behind him and her eyes widened in shock. Anderson turned to look at what she was looking at and he nearly died in shock as well. The sound was muted but a reporter talking live from somewhere in London was bringing some breaking news. The rolling headline announced, "HAT DETECTIVES ALIVE". Underneath, a separate headline stated, "Magnussen summoned before parliamentary ..." but no one was paying attention to that news.

"Oh my God," Laura said and instantly everyone's phones began to signal text alerts. Everybody scrabbled in their pockets. Laura held up her own phone to show Anderson, her face alight with excitement. "Oh. My. God!" Laura said again as on the phones, Twitter was full of hashtags like **#SherlockHolmesAndLexiMacKennaAlive**! and **#SherlockAndLexiAreNotDead**, and **#SherlockAndLexiLive** and more messages streamed in by the second. Another text alert rang though the room and Anderson grabbed his phone in shock and nearly dropped it. He was the only one to receive this particular message and all it read was: **_Wrong! _**

**John's POV**

Sitting up in bed, Mary was holding her iPad and reading aloud from one of John's old blog entries.

""His movements were so silent. So furtive, he reminded me of a trained bloodhound picking out a scent. Lexi walked beside him her movements so precise that she moved almost like a ghost by his side. I'd never seen her as concentrated on a case as I did now. It was as if I could physically see the gears turning in her head,"" Mary narrated dramatically.

"You what?" John asked her from the bathroom as he started covering his face in shaving foam.

""I couldn't help thinking what amazing criminals they'd make if they turned their talents against the law. Lexi certainly would make an excellent criminal what with her hacking and breaking and entering skills. She managed to break into Baskerville which shouldn't have been surprising as she once broke into Buckingham Palace!"" Mary read laughing loudly at the last bit in disbelief. John walked out of the small ensuite bathroom, his lower face and upper lip covered in shaving foam.

"Don't read that," John told her as Mary still looked at the screen of her iPad, reading more as her lips moved silently.

"Did she really break into Buckingham Palace?" Mary asked him with another laugh and John sighed heavily.

"Yes, apparently. It's when she met Sherlock's brother Mycroft," John told her and she laughed in delight again.

"I can't believe that. She never would have done that before," Mary said, shaking her head as she continued to look down. That somehow sounded a lot different than the Lexi she remembered. "The famous blog, finally!" Mary told John and he sighed again.

"Come on – that's ...," John told trailing off and Mary nodded and continued for him.

"...ancient history, yes, I know. But it's not, though, is it, because they're ...," Mary said as she finally raised her eyes from her iPad and stopped when she saw John's face. "What are you doing?!" Mary asked him with a large smile.

"Having a wash," John told her nonchalantly.

"You're shaving it off," Mary said grinning and John looked at her in exasperation.

"Well, you hate it," John told Mary, feeling a bit irritated. Sherlock and Lexi had only been back for a few hours and they were already making deductions just like always. Yeah, no, he really missed that.

"Sherlock hates it and Lexi can't look at you with it without giggling," Mary pointed out thoughtfully. She had caught Lexi trying to bite back giggles every time she looked at John when she wasn't pulling him off of Sherlock.

"Apparently everyone hates it," John said in exasperation and Mary giggled.

"Are you gonna see them again?" Mary asked him with a large grin on her face.

"No – I'm going to work," John told her not knowing how that had anything to do with it. Mary had tried to give him Lexi's journal last night but John had pointedly ignored it and refused to look at it. Mary had left it on her night stand and hadn't touched it herself except for opening it to the first page and then closing it quickly again.

"Oh. And after work, are you gonna see them again?" Mary asked him and John rolled his eyes and walked back into the bathroom. "Cor, I dunno – six months of bristly kisses for me, and then His Nibs and her Royal Highness turn up ...," Mary told him, trailing off and John breathed out in exasperation.

"I don't shave for Sherlock Holmes. And I certainly don't do it for Lexi MacKenna," John told Mary, looking into the mirror while he applied more shaving foam.

"Oh! You should put that on a T-shirt!" Mary called in excitement from their bedroom.

"Shut up," John told her playfully.

"Or what?" Mary asked him cheekily.

"Or I'll marry you," John told Mary as he turned to look at her. Mary grinned at him as John heard Lexi's voice in his head.

_"Smooth Watson, real smooth,"_ John heard Lexi say in her Irish accent and he looked up into the mirror and sighed heavily. Rinsing off his hands, John picked up his razor, looked into the mirror, sighed again, and then lifted the razor towards his upper lip.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I had been up a good part of the night. After Mrs. Hudson had tittered over us and cried for at least two hours before she let us go up to our flat to rest. I had teared up slightly when I saw our old flat, completely untouched. It looked exactly like it did on the day we had left. Sherlock and I had gone right over to the couch and sat down next to each other, curling up together. I sighed and we stayed there, holding each other. Though I had joked around a lot, other activities had to wait for a while. We still were both healing and I didn't quite want my stitches getting ripped again. After a while of just sitting together, taking in our flat again we made our way to our bedroom. The sheets were even left the same way as we had left them the last time we slept in our bed. Sherlock and I changed into our night clothes and crawled into our bed together, the sheets still carrying our lingering scents. Sherlock pulled me to his chest and breathed in deeply as we closed our eyes and snuggled next to each other. A proper bed in our flat and we were together. We were home. Sherlock and I stayed up most of the night, fighting sleep so we could just lie their together but soon we both fell asleep, to exhausted to fight it any longer. It was so nice to know that we were safe and we didn't have to sleep with a gun or a knife by us. We were still jumpy, but not in our flat. 221B had always been a place of safety and security for us even with the occasional assassin, CIA agent, or member of a Chinese tong paying a visit.

We woke up in the late morning and that was when we got started on our next case. There was always a case, always something to do and our job wasn't over yet, even if we had finally dismantled all of Moriarty's web. Our work continued and the criminal classes apparently didn't stop even if we were away from London. Now that we were back we had a lot of work to get done. Sherlock and I spent the morning pinning up maps, notes, and paperwork to the wall behind the couch, creating a network around the city. Word had spread that morning that we were alive, Joanna getting the news out there as it would be quite obvious to anyone in the city who saw us that we were very much alive. It was better to let the news break when we could control it than for it to get out because someone let something slip at an inopportune moment. We went out and rendezvoused with members of Sherlock's old Homeless Network. Apparently the homeless people had been hearing whispers from others that had come all the way from China over the last two years. We sent them out looking before we stopped for a nice breakfast at Speedy's. News of our return spread quite quickly around the city and by the time we returned to our flat a client had already come by. It seemed that we were more popular now than we had been before.

We were watching one of the news reports which were coming out as people fought to get the story out first. The headline at the bottom of the screen read: **Consulting Detectives Back From The Dead**

"Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria "Lexi" MacKenna, consulting detectives who two years ago jumped off the roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, after allegations that they were frauds, were found to be alive just hours ago. This is considered by many to be the hoax if the century," The reporter said as she stood in front of Bart's Hospital. Nice location spot. "Holmes and MacKenna reportedly committed suicide after the trial of Richard Brook, a man we now know as Moriarty. This news comes weeks after it was proven that Holmes and MacKenna were telling the truth and that the man known as Richard Brook never existed and was actually the creation of criminal mastermind James Moriarty. Apologies have been formally made to the two detectives by Scotland Yard for their role in the accusations against the pair," The reporter continued and I laughed loudly at that as I looked to Sherlock.

"Do you remember that because I don't?" I asked him and he hummed at me as he played with my hair as we sat together in his chair. "Must have been dead at the time," I joked and Sherlock chuckled, the sound vibrating through my chest.

"It is still unknown how the two managed to pull off such an elaborate hoax and no one knows exactly why they faked their deaths. New information suggests that no one else was in on their plot except for the two detectives. Some question what sort of people would fake their own deaths, leaving their loved ones to grieve while others believe that the two detectives had a reason behind their faked deaths. No word has come forth yet as to what the two detectives have been doing in the two years they've been away and as of yet, no one has seen or heard from the two detectives but official sources tell us they are alive and well. Lights have been seen on at 221B Baker Street which suggests that the two detectives are in fact alive," The reported continued and I poked Sherlock in the cheek and giggled.

"Last time I checked yeah," I said and Sherlock looked at me before he leaned forward and kissed me deeply.

"I prefer this method of checking," Sherlock told me as we broke apart and I chuckled before snuggling up against his chest.

"Rumours surround the detectives return, including news of a possible engagement between Holmes and MacKenna. As many will remember, the pair were always seen together two years ago and many described the two detectives as having a close relationship. Both were seen in the company of their man behind the blog that revolved around their lives, Dr. John Watson who is also currently unavailable for comment on how he might be taking news of the detectives' sudden return. What do the detectives have hidden up their sleeves? Are the Baker Street Irregulars going back to their work now that they've returned and what exactly does the future have in store for them? Time can only tell," The reporter finished and I looked back at Sherlock and grinned at him.

"What will we be doing Mr. Holmes?" I asked Sherlock and he grinned at me before leaning down closely to me again.

"I think…," Sherlock said before he pulled me in for a deep kiss and I smiled through it before we let ourselves get distracted for a little while. A little while later we were interrupted by none other than the British Government who was followed in by his handler.

"London. It's like a great cesspool into which all kinds of criminals, agents and drifters are irresistibly drained," Sherlock said, peering at the wall behind the couch before he stepped onto the sofa to get a better look at the connections we had made so far. He wore his red dressing gown over his clothes as I wore his blue dressing gown which I had for all extensive purposes made mine.

"Cesspool. Brilliant description of our city love," I told Sherlock and Joanna laughed from where she sat across from me at the dining table, the both of us on our laptops and doing a bit of work which involved poking our noses into places that they might not belong.

"I'd call New York a cesspool, not London," Joanna commented and I nodded at her with a grin.

"Sometimes it's not a question of 'Who?'; it's a question of 'Who Knows?'" Sherlock continued as somewhere across London a man in his twenties or thirties with a shaved head was sitting on a park bench eating a sandwich.

"Or 'Who Cares?'" Joanna commented and Sherlock looked over his shoulder at her to roll his eyes. She shrugged at him before going back to doing whatever she was doing.

"If this man cancels his papers ...," Sherlock said, pointing to the picture on the wall that one of the members of his Homeless Network had taken of the man eating his sandwich and sent to him. "...We need to know," Sherlock said as elsewhere in London a woman with a dog on a lead walked through a street market. "If this woman leaves London without putting her dog into kennels, we need to know," Sherlock continued as he pointed to the second picture that a member of his Homeless Network had sent him which he had pinned to the wall. They had continued in this manner all morning, sticking up pictures of people and adding crosses and other marks to the pictures and the map underneath it. "There are certain people – they are markers. If they start to move, we'll know something's up – like rats deserting a sinking ship," Sherlock finished, stepping off of the couch and up and over the coffee table before he went back over to his chair, sitting down. Unbeknownst to us, John, now moustache-free, approached and walked into the surgery in which he worked across London while we did our own work.

"All very interesting, Sherlock, but the terror alert has been raised to Critical," Mycroft said as I turned and looked at him. He was sitting in what used to be John's chair and Sherlock sat back in his own seat from making his next move on the game they were playing. Joanna and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes before grinning. Ah, our boys, so competitive.

"And my exasperation level has risen to critical levels too Mycroft," I told him and he pointedly rolled his eyes at me.

"Boring," Sherlock told Mycroft in reference to the terror alert. "Your move," Sherlock told Mycroft as Joanna and I shook our heads in unison. I was sitting closer to Sherlock so my back was to the both of them, but Joanna was watching them both like a hawk.

"We have solid information. An attack is coming," Mycroft told us as he glanced down to make his move. I got up and crossed over to Sherlock's chair behind me and perched on the arm of his seat. He wrapped his arm around my waist before pulling me down onto his lap. I giggled as he smirked down at me and let me right myself so that I was sitting more comfortably. I tucked my feet into the space between his leg and the arm of the chair as he held onto me tightly. Mycroft grimaced at our display of affection while Joanna wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively.

"Not exactly Mycroft. You don't really have "solid information." You know that a secret terrorist organisation is planning an attack and that is what secret terrorist organizations do. It's their version of golf. They want to breed fear and panic and you are giving that to them right now. There are thousands of terrorist organizations around the world, several of which Sherlock and I heard whispers about. You need us to find which one it is and who their leader is. Knowing that there might or might not be an attack isn't going to help anything," I told Mycroft as Sherlock played with my hair and Mycroft looked back at the both of us in annoyance.

"An agent gave his life to tell us that," Mycroft told us coldly and Joanna cleared her throat. Mycroft flicked his gaze over to her and I found her raising her eyebrow back at him. He gritted his teeth and said nothing more on the matter.

"Oh, well, perhaps he shouldn't have done. He was obviously just trying to show off," Sherlock said and Mycroft appeared to be holding back an exasperated sigh.

"And that isn't our fault. We've been back in London for barely a full day Mycroft. We've already set up markers around the city in that amount of time and I'm monitoring all of the available channels. Don't expect us to find something for you in five minutes that you haven't found yourself yet," I told Mycroft, raising my eyebrow at him pointedly. I really didn't know what he expected us to do. We'd only been in London for not even a full day. We were consulting detectives, possibly assassins after what we had to do to dismantle Moriarty's web, be we were not miracle workers.

"None of these markers of yours is behaving in any way suspiciously?" Mycroft asked us as he glanced down again and made a move. "Your move," Mycroft told Sherlock and Sherlock groaned, not wanting to move from his current position.

"Not yet, but I'm watching them from CCTV's, hacking into all of their records, and we've got our Homeless Network out watching them for us. If they so much as spit we'll know," I told Mycroft, glancing to Joanna who nodded at me. She and I had been setting up our system for the last hour or so since she and Mycroft had arrived at our flat. Anything that was remotely suspicious would be caught immediately.

"You have to trust us," Sherlock told his brother before he glanced at me and gestured to their game, wanting me to take his turn form him. I sighed and reached forward to make my move for him. "We'll find the answer. It'll be in an odd phrase in an online blog, or an unexpected trip to the countryside, or a misplaced Lonely Hearts ad," Sherlock said and I grinned at that as I finally made my or at least Sherlock's move for him.

"Your move," I told Mycroft who looked slightly irritated that I moved for Sherlock. Mycroft glanced down briefly before raising his eyes to Sherlock and mine again.

"I've given the Prime Minister my personal assurance you're on the case," Mycroft told us and I rolled my eyes and made a sound of exasperation.

"Well, thanks for asking us first," I told Mycroft as I raised my eyebrow at him. "We just got back from being tortured in Serbia and before that we were dismantling Moriarty's web. We deserve a bit of a break after all of that, but we are on the case right now. We can't do anything until one of the markers makes a move or I do something rather brilliant and figure something out. Right now I needed more data which means we wait," I told Mycroft as Joanna left off her work and got up so she could perch on the arm of Mycroft's chair. Mycroft flicked his gaze up to her and I saw his shoulders relax slightly but he made no other signs of acknowledging her presence beside him.

"We're all on the case. Look at us right now," Sherlock add as on the table in between them, there was a loud buzzing and a red light flashed.

"Oh, bugger!" Mycroft swore and he angrily dropped the small tweezers he was using in their game of "Operation". That was probably one of the reasons Mycroft would think Sherlock was cheating by letting me take his turn. I was a Doctor after all. I had rather steady hands and did well with precise work even if I was slightly out of practice.

"Oopsie!" Sherlock said as Mycroft returned the piece to the board. "Can't handle a broken heart – how very telling," Sherlock continued, looking at which piece Mycroft had failed to remove successfully. He looked smug as he sat back in his chair, pulling me with him.

"Don't be smart," Mycroft told Sherlock in exasperation.

"That takes me back," Sherlock told his brother before he continued in a little boy's voice ""Don't be smart, Sherlock. I'm the smart one,""

"I am the smart one," Mycroft said, glowering at him and Sherlock looked off to the side reflectively.

"Boys!" Joanna and I said in unison and both of them glared at each other for a long moment before breaking eye contact as we looked to our respective fiancés and raised our eyebrows at them.

"No fighting or we'll call Mummy," I told the boys which really was a threat and they both shifted uncomfortably.

"And she loves us both. Future daughter in laws trump sons," Joanna told the both of them warningly before we looked at each other and rolled our eyes in unison before shaking our heads.

"I used to think I was an idiot," Sherlock commented quietly and I looked at him and shook my head as he avoided eye contact with me.

"Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on 'til we met other children," Mycroft told Sherlock and Joanna gave him a warning look that I recognized all too well as being similar to the one I gave Sherlock.

"Oh, yes. That was a mistake," Sherlock said, agreeing with his brother which was rare.

"Don't even remind me," I told them, crinkling my nose in distaste. Meeting other children was such a lovely experience.

"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?" Mycroft asked Sherlock as he grimaced and sat back in his chair.

"Probably something about trying to make friends," Sherlock told Mycroft, nodding slightly.

"Oh yes. Friends. Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now," Mycroft said, looking at the both of us. The way he said friends was as if it was a dirty word.

"And you don't? Ever?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, looking at him closely as I raised my eyebrow at him.

"If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish," Mycroft said as I kissed Sherlock's forehead before I stood up. His eyes followed me as I walked across the living room and grabbed my mobile off of the coffee table and started texting on it as I tried to keep up with our current network. Sherlock steepled his fingers in front of him and looked at his brother.

"You've gone fishing apparently," I commented as I looked up from my phone and gestured to Joanna with my free hand.

"I'll try to not take offense to that honey," Joanna told Mycroft and he looked up at her sharply, his gaze softening a bit.

"I never meant… you're a different sort of goldfish," Mycroft started, trying to correct what he said and Joanna reached up and patted his cheek, smirking at him.

"I know honey, I just like fucking with you… and fucking you but that is another matter entirely," Joanna said so coarsely and Sherlock smirked as Mycroft made a strangled noise and his cheeks reddened brightly.

"Change the subject – now!" Mycroft told Joanna, looking appalled and he stood up and walked over to the fireplace to put some distance between himself and her.

"Don't get your kickers in a twist Mycroft, that's Joanna's job," I told the still blushing man and he looked at me with a murderous glare as Joanna laughed cheerfully. Sherlock still looked rather smug over the fact that we were both ganging up on Mycroft and attempting to embarrass him instead.

"Rest assured, Mycroft – whatever this underground network of yours is up to, the secret will reside in something seemingly insignificant or bizarre," Sherlock told Mycroft as I came to sit with Sherlock again and put my mobile down in my lap.

"Which happens to be our speciality," I told Mycroft as Mrs. Hudson, carrying a tray of tea things, walked into the room with her traditional "Ooh-ooh!"

"Speaking of which ...," Mycroft said as his blush calmed down and Sherlock and I smiled.

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it! Them – sitting in their chair again!" Mrs. Hudson said happily, putting the tray on the dining table before she looked at Mycroft. "Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr Holmes?" Mrs. Hudson asked him before she sent a smile to Joanna who she had liked as soon as she met her.

"I can barely contain myself!" Mycroft told Mrs. Hudson sarcastically, not that she noticed.

"Oh, he really can, you know," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson and Joanna laughed at that.

"He's secretly pleased to see you underneath all that ...," Mrs. Hudson told the boys, trialling off and pulling a sour face.

"Ha, you've captured him perfectly Mrs. H," Joanna giggled as she looked at Mycroft and made a face at him before blowing him a kiss. He glanced at her but didn't acknowledge it much.

"Sorry – which of us?" Mycroft asked Mrs. Hudson as he shot another look at Joanna who was eyeing him with a smirk on her face.

"Both of you," The three of us women said in unison before we shared a look. Mrs. Hudson left the room then as I got up and Joanna joined me at the dining table as we looked over our CCTV feeds momentarily.

"Let's play something different," Sherlock told his brother as I looked up at him and shook my head at him fondly.

"Why are we playing games?" Mycroft tasked with an exasperated sigh as he threw a look at Joanna and me.

"This is already a game to you two. We're just having a bit of fun," Joanna told Mycroft with a pointed look and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Well, London's terror alert has been raised to Critical," Sherlock said as he flailed his legs over the table in front of him and stood up. " We're just passing the time. Let's do deductions," Sherlock said as he walked over to the dining table and picked up a woollen bobble hat which had earflaps and a dangly woollen pom pom hanging from each flap. I remembered a comment that Sherlock had once made about his deerstalker before everything started with Moriarty, "It's an ear hat, John!" "Client left this while we were out," Sherlock told Mycroft and I looked up at that and hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, it seems like we're more popular now that we're the detectives who died and came back to life then we were before," I told Mycroft and Joanna shrugged at me slightly. Not even three full hours after the news finally broke and we already had a client.

"What d'you reckon?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as he tossed the hat to his brother.

"I'm busy," Mycroft told him as he caught it gingerly.

"Oh, go on. It's been an age," Sherlock told Mycroft who lifted the hat to his nose and sniffed it before he looked across to Sherlock.

"I always win," Mycroft warned Sherlock and Joanna walked closer to Mycroft and stood near John's chair, leaning her arm against it.

"We've never played before," Joanna told Mycroft as I did one final check on our network before I walked over and stood next to Sherlock so that we were all standing near enough to each other in what would probably be the largest game of deductions ever attempted.

"And I've beaten you before Mycroft which is why you can't resist playing against us," I told Mycroft sweetly as I reached up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. He smirked down and me and glance at me for a long moment before he looked back to his brother again

"I find nothing irresistible in the hat of a well-travelled anxious sentimental unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis ...," Mycroft told us quick fire and he stopped when he noticed Sherlock and my widening smiles. "Damn," Mycroft swore and he threw the hat, Joanna catching it in its flight towards Sherlock.

"They got you there honey," Joanna told Mycroft before she held the bobble hat up by its bobble and glance over it. "Bit isolated, too, don't you think?" Joanna asked Mycroft as she raised her eyebrow inquisitively at him.

"Why would he be isolated?" Mycroft asked her as she threw the hat to Sherlock who caught it readily.

""He"?" Sherlock asked Mycroft in confusion.

"Obviously," Mycroft told Sherlock and Joanna raised her eyebrow at him.

"Why? Is it because of the size of the hat?" Joanna asked Mycroft as he turned and looked at her.

"Some women have larger heads too Mycroft," I pointed out to both boys who flinched slightly.

"Your head is perfectly sized," Sherlock told me and I grinned up at him as he bent down to kiss my forehead. I hummed in contentment and Mycroft sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes at our display of sentimentality.

"No – he's recently had his hair cut. You can see the little hairs adhering to the perspiration stains on the inside," Mycroft told Sherlock who looked down at the hat, pouting slightly.

"Some women have short hair, too," Sherlock pointed out as we both no doubt thought of Mary.

"Balance of probability," Mycroft told Sherlock and I could tell that he was right about that, but it could also have belonged to a woman who recently cut her hair short.

"Not that you've ever spoken to a woman with short hair," Sherlock told Mycroft and Joanna hummed in agreement at that as she lowered her tea mug.

"No, he likes my hair long. Must be a Holmes' thing," Joanna said and she and I shared a knowing look.

"Hair fetish. Sherlock was more upset when I had to cut my hair than I was," I told Joanna and both boys reddened slightly and cleared their throats awkwardly. "Anyway, the perspiration stains show that he's out of shape. Probably has a very sedentary lifestyle and job," I commented as I took the hat from Sherlock and looked it over.

"And he's sentimental because the hat has been repaired three, four ...," Mycroft said before Sherlock and I cut him off.

"Five times," Sherlock and I said in unison as I threw the hat back to Mycroft.

"Very neatly," Sherlock said before he continued with the rest of the deduction quick fire. "The cost of the repairs exceeds the cost of the hat, so he's mawkishly attached to it, but it's more than that. One, perhaps two, patches would indicate sentimentality, but five? Five's excessive behaviour. Obsessive compulsive."

"Hardly. Your client left it behind. What sort of an obsessive compulsive would do that?" Mycroft asked us as he threw the hat back to Sherlock, who grabbed it with an exasperated grimace.

"One who wanted to have a reason to come back if they didn't want to take his case," Joanna told Mycroft who looked sidelong at her thoughtfully before conceding and nodding.

"The earlier patches are extensively sun-bleached, so he's worn it abroad – in Peru," Mycroft told us and I raised my eyebrow at him as did Joanna.

"Peru?" Sherlock asked Mycroft in confusion.

"This is a chullo – the classic headgear of the Andes. It's made of alpaca," Mycroft told him, looking rather smug.

"No," Sherlock said with a smirk as I shook my head at him.

"Not exactly," I told Mycroft as I took the hat from Sherlock and looked it over again.

"No?" Mycroft asked us in confusion and Sherlock nodded quickly.

"Icelandic sheep wool. Similar, but very distinctive if you know what you're looking for. Lexi and I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of different natural fibres," Sherlock told Mycroft and I nodded at him in agreement.

"Last night actually," I added as I handed the hat back to Sherlock.

"I'm sure there's a crying need for that," Mrs. Hudson said as she walked back into the living room with the tea pot.

"We were bored," I told her with a shrug and Joanna smirked at me.

"Were you now?" Joanna asked me and I shrugged again.

"Stitches make certain activities difficult and I didn't feel like ripping them for a third time," I told Joanna and she nodded at me sympathetically. Sherlock blushed fiercely and paused for a moment before he turned back to Mycroft and tried to ignore Joanna and me.

"You said he was anxious," Sherlock said and Mycroft nodded, looking smug now that the tables had turned and Joanna and I were teasing Sherlock. No one could say we were anything except fair.

"The bobble on the left side has been badly chewed, which shows he's a man of a nervous disposition but ...," Mycroft said before Sherlock talked over him.

"...but also a creature of habit because he hasn't chewed the bobble on the right," Sherlock concluded and Mycroft nodded at him.

"Precisely," Mycroft said and Sherlock lifted the hat and sniffed it before lowering it again, grimacing.

"Brief sniff of the offending bobble tells us everything we need to know about the state of his breath," Sherlock said and he turned towards me and gestured to the hat if I wanted to sniff it.

"No, you keep that over there," I told Sherlock as I raised my hands and took a slight step back from him.

"Brilliant!" Sherlock said sarcastically after shrugging at me.

"Elementary," Mycroft said to which I cried out a loud "Oi!" and gave him a rather pointed look.

"But you've missed his isolation," Sherlock told Mycroft.

"I don't see it," Mycroft told him shortly.

"Plain as day," Sherlock continued as Joanna and I set in to just watch the two of them.

"Where?" Mycroft asked Sherlock and I grinned at Joanna, knowing how this was going to end.

"There for all to see," Sherlock said, goading Mycroft on.

"Tell me," Mycroft demanded.

"Plain as the nose on your ...," Sherlock said, trailing off as he ignored his brother.

"Tell me," Mycroft demanded again in exasperation.

"Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?" Sherlock asked his brother as he turned back to him.

"Not at all. Maybe he just doesn't mind being different. He doesn't necessarily have to be isolated," Mycroft said and that was the point where he started talking less about the owner of the hat and more of himself.

"Exactly," Sherlock said and he looked down at the hat again. Mycroft blinked several times, apparently confused.

"I'm sorry?" Mycroft asked Sherlock and I shrugged at him.

"He's different – so what? Why would he mind? You're quite right," Sherlock said, looking back at him before he lifted the hat and perched it on the top of his head, then looked pointedly at his brother as I grimaced. "Why would anyone mind?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who opened his mouth but seemed to struggle to speak for a moment.

"... I'm not lonely, Sherlock," Mycroft said and Sherlock tilted his head down and looked closely at him, then stepped nearer with an intense expression on his face.

"Oh, I know," Sherlock said, his intense expression turning into a smirk as he flicked his gaze over to Joanna. "I'm sure my dear soon to be sister in law keeps you plenty occupied," Sherlock said suggestively as he took the hat off and turned away. Mrs. Hudson, who had been pottering in the kitchen, came to the doorway and smiled knowingly at Joanna and I as we shrugged in unison and grinned back at her,

"Yes. Back to work if you don't mind. Good morning," Mycroft told Sherlock, his voice slightly off as his cheeks were tinged a bright red and he looked at Joanna. "Joanna," He said and she nodded before grinning at me.

"And it was just starting to get fun," She told me as Mycroft, looking a little wide-eyed as a result of our recent conversation, headed for the door without waiting for her. "It was lovely to meet you properly Mrs. Hudson," Joanna said as she gave the older woman a hug. "I'm sure you'll seeing a lot more of me," Joanna told her as she looked back at us. "You kids behave. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Joanna told us with a suggestive wink and I giggled at her as I walked over to the door and hugged her as Mycroft called up the stairs for her. "Yes I'm coming!" Joanna yelled down to him before snorting at me. "Bloody British Government. So impatient," Joanna said before she saluted Sherlock over my head and left our flat, stopping down the stairs loudly to signal to Mycroft that she was on her way down. I turned around as Sherlock winked at Mrs. Hudson who giggled happily.

"Right. Back to work," Sherlock said as we both turned to face the wall of information behind the sofa.

"After you've had a shower," I told Sherlock as I walked over to stand next to him.

"Why?" Sherlock asked me, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Head lice. I share a bed with you," I told Sherlock before pushing him in the direction of our bedroom. He looked back at me for a long moment before smirking and raising his eyebrow at me in a silent question. I tilted my head to the side as if thinking about it for a long second before I giggled and took his offered hand, letting him lead me back to our room as Mrs. Hudson pointedly left us alone in our flat.

**Third Person POV**

At John's surgery, Mary knocked on the door and looked into John's patient room.

"Mr Summerson," Mary told John who nodded.

"Right," John told her as he looked up, ready to see his next patient.

"Undescended testicle," Mary told John awkwardly and John looked at her for a long moment before answering her.

"...Right," John said again and Mary left the room. John looked across to the clock and saw that it was ten past ten. It was going to be a long day.

In 221B, Sherlock held up his phone and looked at the latest photos of one of their 'markers'. His hair was slightly damp still and Lexi walked over to him, her hair also rather damp with a cup of tea in her hands. She grinned at him before she sipped her tea and Sherlock smirked down at her. Mrs. Hudson came to the door of the living room smiling as she watched them for a long moment. It was so nice to see them both together again and all smiles. She could tell that something had changed between them since they had left. They were more… affectionate with each other, in sync with each other. If one moved so did the other in a way that complimented the way the first had moved. She had squealed in delight when she had found out that they were engaged. Not that it surprised her all that much. She might tease John but she always knew that Lexi and Sherlock were together, they were perfect for each other, destined to be together those two. She waited a bit longer and watched while Sherlock drew a cross over the photo of the man which was pinned to the wall.

"Sherlock, Lexi," Mrs. Hudson said, and Sherlock hummed absently as Lexi turned slightly and looked at her. "Talk to John," Mrs. Hudson told them and Lexi sighed heavily as she looked back at her sadly.

"We tried talking to him. He made his position quite clear," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson and Lexi nodded before she looked down.

"We called his girlfriend this morning. John doesn't want to talk to us and he refuses to read the journal that I gave her to give him last night. Give him some time. He just needs to process everything," I told Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock and Sherlock glanced at me for a long moment before looking away from me. That was all John probably needed. Just some time to process the fact that we were both back. This was John. He was angry and upset and probably feeling a bit betrayed but hopefully he would read my journal. If he could just do that I was sure he would come to understand why we had to do what we did.

In his surgery, John had his middle finger raised in front of him. With his other hand he pulled the medical glove tighter down onto his fingers. His patient was standing in front of him, naked from the waist down and looking awkward.

"Just relax, Mr Summerson," John told his patient before he walked towards him.

Back in 221B, Mrs. Hudson was still watching the two of them closely as Lexi suddenly frowned and tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Actually John did say something when we called Mary," Lexi said finally as she looked to Sherlock and raised her eyebrow before running her hand through her damp hair.

"What did he say?" Mrs. Hudson asked her curiously but it was Sherlock who answered her.

"Fuck off," Sherlock said as Lexi moved quickly towards him, trying to stop him before he said it but she was too late.

In John's patient room, John was currently in a rather awkward position.

"Cough," John said as he cradled Mr. Summerson's testicles with his gloved hand.

Back in 221B, Mrs. Hudson looked scandalized at Sherlock.

"Ooh dear!" Mrs. Hudson said as Lexi groaned and put her hand over her face.

"Language!" Lexi scolded as she gave Sherlock a pointed look and smacked him on the arm as Mrs. Hudson turned away and headed back downstairs. Lexi sighed before she went into their kitchen and picked up the plate of sandwiches that Mrs. Hudson brought up to them. Life already felt slightly normal again.

A bit later, John was sitting and looking at his computer in his surgery. The intercom beeped and he switched it on.

"Hi," John answered.

"Er, Mrs. Reeves. Thrush," Mary told him over the intercom and John lowered his head momentarily.

"Right," John said and he looked at his clock again. It was four minutes past one. This was really going to be a long day.

At 221B, Sherlock was standing at the window while Lexi was curled up on the couch with her book which she never got to finish before they left two years ago. She didn't even have to restart it since she could remember everything she had ever read before. Sherlock grimaced slightly as Molly walked into the room behind him but Lexi looked up from her book and flashed her a brilliant smile.

"You two wanted to see me?" Molly asked them as she wrung her hands together.

"Yes," Sherlock said as he turned towards her and Lexi got up from the couch, the both of them starting to work towards her. "Molly?" Sherlock asked her as Lexi watched the pathologist.

"Yes?" Molly asked him as she looked between Sherlock and Lexi.

"Would you ...," Sherlock started before he stopped and looked down, unsure how to phrase this as he started to slowly walk closer to her. "Would you like to ...," Sherlock said before Molly finished for him.

"...have dinner?" Molly asked the two detectives as Sherlock simultaneously said, "...solve crimes?"

"Ooh," Molly said awkwardly and Lexi laughed as she walked over and hugged the shorter woman.

"That sounds lovely too. We'll have dinner later, catch up a bit," Lexi told Molly, making her feel less awkward and Sherlock nodded as Lexi turned back to him excitedly. "Angelo's!" Lexi said with a brilliant grin. Sherlock chuckled at how happy she was just from the simple thought at eating at their old favourite restaurant. He was…happy to see her so carefree. He knew that it had been hard for her these last two years and to see her just like she was before all of it had happened was certainly something spectacular to see. She would always be his Lexi, no matter what happened.

In John's surgery John was writing out a prescription while talking to the patient sitting behind him.

"Absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Mrs. Reeves. It's very common...," John said as he turned and handed the prescription to her "...but I'm recommending a course of..."

"...monkey glands," Sherlock said, back in the living room of 221B. He was looking at the wall, while Molly sat on a dining chair beside Sherlock's armchair which Lexi was sitting perched on the arm of. Molly bit back a smile as Lexi shook her head at him ruefully, the hint of a laugh around her eyes. Sherlock turned towards the two clients in the room, a woman who was sitting in what was John's chair and a man who stood beside her. "But enough about Professor Presbury. Tell us more about your case, Mr Harcourt," Sherlock told their clients.

"Are you sure about this?" Molly asked the two consulting detectives quietly as Sherlock walked past her as Lexi gave him a look as if begging him to come and sit. He did as she requested of him before pulling Lexi onto his lap.

"Absolutely," Sherlock told the pathologist as Lexi nodded and righted herself, ignoring their clients who were watching her and Sherlock closely.

"One hundred percent Molls," Lexi told her before she giggled and shook her head at Sherlock who was trying to play with her hair.

"Should I be making notes?" Molly asked them, unsure what they wanted her to do.

"If it makes you feel better," Sherlock told her as he looked her way briefly.

"It's just that that's what John says he does, so if I'm being John ..." Molly said and Sherlock cut her off before she could continue that line of thought.

"You're not being John – you're being yourself," Sherlock told Molly as Lexi looked over to her and nodded.

"The brilliant Molly Hooper," Lexi said and Molly smiled proudly before Lexi looked at their clients. "Your case?" Lexi asked their clients who looked slightly confused before they realized that Lexi was talking to them

"Well, absolutely no one should have been able to empty that bank account other than myself and Helen," Mr. Harcourt told them and Sherlock and Lexi looked closely at him, zooming in on his jacket, then his hairline, and then the skin above his eyes. They looked at each other and shared a long look before Lexi nodded. They both stood and walked closer to Mr. Harcourt together.

"Why didn't you assume it was your wife?" Sherlock asked Mr. Harcourt as Lexi tilted her head to the side and eyed him thoughtfully.

"Because I've always had total faith in her," Mr. Harcourt told us and I nodded at that. He should, she was completely innocent.

"No – it's because you emptied it," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted at him.

"Nice one, coming to us. Bit of a bad move on your part. You do know we're consulting detectives right? About our methods?" Lexi asked Mr. Harcourt as she shook her head ruefully at him.

"Weight loss, hair dye, Botox; affair," Sherlock said rapidly and he pointed at the three areas on the man at which he had just looked.

"Lawyer," Lexi said as she pulled out a business card and held it out to Mrs. Harcourt.

"Next!" Sherlock and Lexi shouted in unison.

Across London Mary showed the next patient into the room and looked at John.

"This is Mr Blake," Mary told him. "Piles," She whispered and John nodded politely. The clock showed that it was half past three. John turned and smiled at his patient.

"Mr. Blake, hi," John said, greeting his patient as he put on a falsely cheerful look before he eyed the journal that he had taken with him that morning and put onto his desk.

In 221B, Sherlock was sitting on a stool close to a woman who was sitting on the sofa. Lexi sat beside her on the couch between the woman and her older stepfather as the woman cried softly. Sherlock was clasping the woman's hands and patting them sympathetically while he talked softly to her and Lexi rubbed her shoulders comfortingly.

"And your pen pal's emails just stopped, did they?" Sherlock asked their client and the woman nodded, whimpering as she cried.

"With no warning?" Lexi asked her, frowning slightly in thought. Molly looked across to the crying woman but then continued writing notes at the dining table.

"And you really thought he was the one, didn't you? The love of your life?" Sherlock asked her softly as he looked up at Lexi who frowned at him and shared a deduction with him silently. As the woman took off her glasses and cried harder, Sherlock and Lexi turned and looked at Molly for a moment before they both stood up and walked across to her. Keeping their backs to the clients, Sherlock spoke quietly.

"Stepfather posing as online boyfriend," Sherlock told Molly as Lexi gritted her teeth and Sherlock reached up and rubbed small circles on her back to calm her down as he knew she was angry.

"What?!" Molly asked them in shock.

"Breaks it off, breaks her heart. She swears off relationships, stays at home – he still has her wage coming in," Sherlock told Molly as Lexi shook her head angrily.

"Ruins her trust for the rest of her life too," Lexi said through gritted teeth and Sherlock looked down at her.

"Allow me," Sherlock told Lexi before he turned to the man and addressed him sternly. "Mr. Windibank, you have been a complete and utter ...,"

"...piss pot," John said in his patient room clear across London as he held up a small plastic cylinder used for collecting urine samples. He handed it to his latest patient who was sitting facing him. "It's nothing to worry about. Just a small infection by the sound of it. Er, Doctor Verner is your usual GP, yes?" John asked his patient.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," His patient answered him in a rough voice with a thick accent. John looked startled as he looked at the man who looked to be in sixties as his medical record suggested, had long white hair and a white beard and was wearing very dark glasses and a black knitted hat. "He looked after me, man and boy," The patient continued before he beckoned John closer and talked confidentially. "I run a little shop, just on the corner of Church Street."

"Oh, right," John told him politely, used to patients who liked to talk about what they did.

"Er, magazines, DVDs. Brought along a few little beauties that might interest you," John's patient continued picking up a plastic bag from the floor. He took a DVD from the bag and showed it to John. ""Tree Worshippers." Oh, that's a corker. It's very saucy," The man continued and John nodded in a bemused way, looking closely at the man beginning to suspect something off about him. The man got out a magazine next and held it up. ""British Birds." Same sort of thing," The man told him. The magazine cover showed two glamorous women in skimpy clothing, and some of the captions around the photograph read, "We're a real handful," "Hot British Birds! XXX" and "Knocker Glory".

"I'm fine, thanks," John told him awkwardly.

""The Holy War." Sounds a bit dry, I know, but there's a nun with all these holes in her habit," John's patient said holding up another DVD and translating its foreign title.

"Jesus. Sherlock ...," John said in exasperation and his patient made a sound of confusion. "...what do you want?" John asked the man who he was convinced was Sherlock wearing a disguise. His "patient" made another confused sound. "Have you come to torment me?"

"What are you talking about?" John's patient asked him, his accent coming out rather thick.

""What are you talking …,"" John repeated, impersonating his accent. He stood up and walked closer. "What, d'you think I'm gonna be fooled by this bloody beard?" John asked him as he tugged at it while the man flailed in panic.

"Are you crazy?!" The man asked him and John straightened a little and imitated his flaily hands, mockingly saying, "No, no, no, no!" in the man's accent, then leaned into his face.

"It's not as good as your French. Not as good as your French. It's not even a good disguise, Sherlock!" John shouted and he ripped off the man's hat and glasses. The man stared up at him with a terrified look on his face. "Where'd you get it from? A bloody joke ... sh-shop ...?" John said staring at the man with dawning horror. He reached out and pulled his head forward to confirm that he genuinely was bald on top. "Oh my God," John said and the man whimpered as John gently put his glasses back onto his face. "I am so sorry. Oh my God," John said as Mary came in, having heard the noise. John put the man's hat back onto his head. "Please for...," John said, trailing off before he looked across to Mary, speaking a little plaintively. "It's fine," John told Mary, clearing his throat. He sat down again as Mary walked out and closed the door.

After apologizing profusely to his patient, John finally found himself alone again. He laid his head down on his arms on top of his desk and breathed out heavily before looking up slightly. His eyes landed on Lexi's journal and he sat up straighter before reaching for it, putting it in front of him and staring down at it for a long moment. He sighed again before he got up the nerve and pulled the leather strap out and opened the book. It looked rather beat up. The pages were yellowed or stained but there was a piece of heavy, expensive stationary folded into the front of the journal. John took it and unfolded it, realizing that this note was new, newer than the rest of the entries in the journal at least. From the look of the stationary John assumed that it came from Mycroft's office. It was written in Lexi's handwriting and John stared at the words on the page without reading them for a long moment before he sat back in his chair and finally read it.

_John,_

_I know that if you're reading this it means that the second possibility I calculated for has likely occurred. You're angry with us, probably furious and I want you to know that I understand. What we did…I'm sorry John. We had to and trust that if we had any other choice we would have taken it. There were several possibilities I tried to calculate for. I guess you've already seen the video that I made for you or at least you should have by now. We knew that Moriarty would be back and we knew he would try and burn us like he promised. John… we did what we could so we wouldn't have to leave you completely. We had to die in order for Moriarty's game to be completed but we didn't have to die for real. We did what we had to so that you and others could live. I don't expect you to understand what I mean by that, but hopefully with some time you can find it in your heart to forgive us. Everything we've done in the last two years has been done with you in mind. We never stopped fighting to get back to you. I hope that this book might help you or at least give you some answers if you don't want to talk to us. _

_Much love,_

_Lexi_

John sighed heavily as he read the first page and he folded it and put it in the front of the book before he opened it to the first page. He would read it and then he would make his decision. There seemed to be a lot of entries. He took a deep breath before starting the second one. The entry was marked for five days after Sherlock and Lexi's funeral, well, fake funeral apparently.

_John,_

_We're in China right now. Sherlock and I left London to start breaking down Moriarty's web. His network is very vast and he has connections nearly all around the world. So far only in Europe that we can find. We've met with the homeless people around the city and they've given us some information on the Black Lotus. It was the first place we could think to start since we knew they had connections to Moriarty. It's only been five days since we left you but already we miss you terribly. Sherlock…he won't say anything about it and we are avoiding the subject but I know how he feels and it's the same way I do. It's just not the same without you here. _

_We're so sorry we had to leave you like we did. I know that no apology, no explanation will ever be enough to make up for that. Sherlock, he's afraid you'll never forgive us but I've tried to assure him that you will. I hope you do. I hope you can forgive us John. We're figuring out where to head off to next. You probably won't even notice us in the news but if you see that a Chinese smuggling group was found out and infiltrated by the police that was us. So far we're staying safe and we're going to try to stay that way for you. I hope that you're well. I know it isn't going to be easy for you but know how much we love you. Move on from us John. Don't dwell on this. _

_Sending all our love,_

_Lexi MacKenna and Sherlock Holmes_

John wiped away the tears from his eyes and set his jaw, blowing out a breath he didn't know he was holding before he pressed the button on his intercom and told Mary to send the patients to the other doctor in the practice. She asked him if he was alright and told her he was but he had something he needed to do. He sat back and he took the time to read through most of the book. He read about Sherlock and Lexi. Most were written by Lexi some were entries written by Sherlock about his deductions of certain people. He read about their travels all around Europe. He felt his heart beat faster as Lexi wrote about them getting hurt, not critically, but they got the occasional knife wound or bullet grazes. Then came an entry by Sherlock. Lexi had gotten hurt, not extremely badly but if she had been standing slightly to the side she would have gotten shot directly. Then John read the entry by Lexi. Sherlock and Lexi had gotten married. The ceremony wasn't official but it was to them. She was officially, in her eyes, Mrs. Holmes! John smiled at that and wiped away some of his tears as he laughed happily at Lexi's ecstatic entry. The rest of them carried on and John started realizing that he had heard about some of the things they had done. The case in India, the jury in Germany. That had been all them and he had missed it. The journal entries broke off for a bit and Lexi wrote that they were in Russia and then in Serbia. That was when all the entries cut off completely. The last entry was dated a day and a half earlier, a complete two weeks missing entirely. Lexi simply wrote that they were heading back to London and that it all was finally over. And that was the end of it. Several pages seemed to have been ripped out in the end and were missing, but John didn't care. He had realized everything Sherlock and Lexi had been though. He realized what Sherlock and Lexi were telling each other so quietly, why they looked so worried about each other. Whatever happened in Serbia, they had gotten injured and like Lexi had done before, they didn't want him to know. He couldn't not forgive them after that. They had done everything for him. He wasn't exactly sure how or why but after everything they had gone though he had to… he had to forgive them.


	88. St James The Less

**Two more chapters after this one before we head into the Sign of Three. Oh and that begins the major edits and author takes on cases, but you know I am me. Working on the last two Goldfish chapters that get us back to date with TRS. I will be glad when the terms is over and I can concentrate on writing them. Let's go mates. Lexi is about to have a kick arse moment. Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight Six- St. James The Less<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Our clients hadn't provided any useful cases to keep us occupied so we contacted the next person on our list, Lestrade. Sherlock and I were trying to distract ourselves so that we wouldn't have to face the fact that John was refusing to talk with us. I understood how he must be feeling, but I wanted him to talk to us, at least for Sherlock's sake. Sherlock was throwing himself back into the work just to keep his mind off of John. He wouldn't tell me, but I could see it in his look, it hurt that John was refusing to talk to us. Sherlock had thought, had hoped, that John would be delighted to see us again in fact he had been sure of this fact. I knew that John would come around at some point but I didn't know when that would be. Hopefully it was soon. I could…it hurt me too, but as much as I was friends with John, Sherlock considered him to be one of his only friends. I missed John. The flat seemed so quite without him, so empty. Two years had changed a lot though. Sherlock and I were different and John had started to move on with his life too. I never expected it to be the three of us forever. I knew John would get married eventually, but the change just reminded Sherlock and me about everything we had missed in the last two years. Lestrade brought us out to their newest crime scene that Sherlock and I had read about in the news, the mysterious skeleton that was found. He tore down the police tape sealing a door inside a building. The location was rather odd, a building that was being renovated and then they found this room with a skeleton in it. I was sceptical and rather thoughtful about this particular case.

"This one's got us all baffled," Lestrade told us as he took the police tape off of the door and I looked around the hallway curiously.

"Mmm. I don't doubt it," Sherlock said as he brought his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I grinned and nuzzled my head into the side of his neck, sighing in contentment.

"Ah, what did you do without us Greg" I asked the D.I. as I looked over at him with a smirk. "We leave for two years and Scotland Yard goes to pieces," I laughed and Sherlock chuckled beside me as Lestrade gave us both despairing looks.

Lestrade opened the door and led Sherlock, Molly, and I down the stairs into the basement. At the foot of the stairs, a large hole had been knocked through the brickwork of one wall. We walked through the hole, Sherlock going ahead of me to help me through and Greg switched on the mobile lighting which had been set up in the room. As he switched more lights on, the "skeleton mystery" which Sherlock and I had been reading earlier was revealed. A white-painted wooden table was at the far end of the room and seated on a chair behind it was a skeleton dressed in an old-fashioned suit. There was a carafe and a glass and what looked like a writing set on the table in front of it. The corpse was holding a syringe in one skeletal hand. Sherlock frowned and the both of us started zooming in on details of the scene immediately as we walked in before we both walked across the room. We were a lot quicker with our deductions these days, more observant, noticed more. It was all part of having to notice everything in the last two years. Miss something and that could mean death for one or both of us. Sherlock laid his pouch of tools on the table as I opened my case bag and pulled out my glasses, sliding them up the bridge of my nose before I got my own tools out. Sherlock and I got to work, examining the corpse in minute detail. I looked it over with a thoughtful frown on my face and I tilted my head to the side as I looked over the entire corpse which seemed slightly off somehow. Molly stood nearby us, her notebook open and pen poised, ready to jot down anything we told her too. Sherlock sniffed at the body before looking up at me and frowning as he silently asked for my opinion. I sniffed the body and frowned as I scrunched my brow up in thought.

**PINE?**

**SPRUCE?**

**CEDAR**

**NEW MOTHBALLS**

I looked up at Sherlock and shared this deduction with him and he nodded in agreement with my assessment. Moving on, we sniffed the body again. There were undernotes of another smell on the body, mostly on the clothes.

**Carbon particulate **

I frowned and Sherlock and I looked up at each other as we sniffed more deeply.

**Fire Damage**

The clothes had been through a fire at least at some point. We straightened up and Sherlock shut his magnifier as I took off my glasses and put them and my own magnifier back into my case bag.

"What is it?" Molly asked us as Sherlock got his phone out and held it up high to try and get a signal. Joanna had just given us new mobiles since we hadn't had one in two years. She managed to keep our old phone numbers and now we had newer versions of our old phones. Something as simple as a mobile was a luxury to have. "You two are on to something, aren't you?" Molly asked us and Sherlock hummed in agreement as I closed my eyes and started calculating. Everything we had seen so far, the body, the fire damaged clothes, the way the body had been hidden and the syringe the corpse was holding.

"Mm, maybe," Sherlock told Molly as I opened my eyes to find Sherlock watching me closely. He raised his eyebrow at me quizzically and I shrugged at him.

"Possibly. I have several thoughts," I told Sherlock before I heard John's voice in my head.

**SHOW OFF**

"Shut up, John," Sherlock said in a whisper then and I frowned at him, wondering if he had heard that too. Lestrade's eyes flickered over to Sherlock and I sighed heavily before looking around.

"What?" Molly asked Sherlock in confusion as I looked over the body again, trying to figure out what I might have been missing.

"Hmm? Nothing," Sherlock told Molly, not meeting my eyes. That generally meant that he didn't want me to deduce him. He walked around to the other side of the table and continued his investigation as I shrugged it off and went back to looking over the body and room.

**John's POV**

At the surgery, Mary walked into John's office wearing her coat and scarf. She walked across to where he is sitting at his desk.

"Hello," She said with a smile and John hummed in response as he was slightly lost in thought, deciding if he wanted to go and see Sherlock and Lexi or not. He was still mad at them, but he also didn't want to be either. "You sure?" Marry asked him and John nodded, finally making up his mind.

"I'm sure," John assured her, realizing that he had to see them again despite his anger.

"Okay. I'm late for Cath. I'll see you later," Mary told him and she bent down and kissed him before she turned and left.

"'Bye," John called after her, thankful to have her though all of this.

"'Bye," Mary called back to him with a grin over her shoulder and John sighed before he got up and shut the lights off in his office. He asked for a miracle once, maybe he had been given one.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock carefully used tweezers to lift the lapel of the skeleton's jacket and I slipped my glasses back on as he beckoned me forward and showed me what he was looking at. Molly still stood some distance away waiting to write anything down while Greg leaned closely towards Sherlock and me.

"This gonna be your new arrangement, is it?" Lestrade asked us quietly as he glance over at Molly.

"Just giving it a go," Sherlock told Greg offhandedly, not wanting to talk about it.

"Right. So, John?" Lestrade asked us and I flicked my gaze up at him as Sherlock paused for a moment, not looking up at him.

"Not really in the picture any more," Sherlock told Lestrade and he moved away from the table and turned back to look at the whole picture.

"At least for now. It's sort of a work in progress," I told Lestrade as I circled around the table and stood beside Sherlock. Cement dust suddenly drifted down from the ceiling as a distant rumbling came from overhead.

"Trains?" Molly asked us and I nodded at her in agreement.

"Trains," Sherlock and I confirmed for her in unison before we both dropped into a squat. I called up my mental compass and figured out what the orientation of the room was. Sherlock steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as he zoomed in on the corpse while I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully and closed my eyes for a brief moment as I looked at the scene in my mind rather than before me. I was looking for the slightest detail we might have overlooked. Molly walked across to the body and looked at the bones in its neck as Sherlock and I stood up and walked over to join her.

"Male, forty to fifty," Molly said before she looked round at Sherlock and me awkwardly. "Ooh, sorry, did you want to be ...?" Molly asked us and I shook my head at her and gestured for her to continue.

"Er, no, please. Be our guest," Sherlock told Molly before I heard John's voice in my head again.

"You jealous?" John's voice asked me and I gritted my teeth.

"Shut up!" Sherlock said angrily, through gritted teeth and I looked up at him before putting a hand on his arm. He snapped his head around to look at me and I rubbed his arm soothingly.

"Not just me then?" I asked him and he frowned at me in confusion as Molly glanced nervously at Greg. "It's okay love," I told him and Sherlock sighed as I squeezed his arm before letting it go. Sherlock took out his magnifier to look more closely at the hand holding the syringe while Molly continued investigating the skeleton.

"Doesn't make sense," Molly said and I nodded in agreement with her assessment. None of this made any sense at all in fact I was staring to form a conclusion.

"What doesn't?" Lestrade asked her as Sherlock gently blew away the dust around the hand and continued blowing towards the edge of the table. He gestured for me to take a look and I bent over the table and looked closely at it. Dust was elegant and it could tell you a lot. The dust was a mixture of cement dust and regular every day dust which meant that the corpse had been here for some time, but not that long.

"This skeleton – it's ... it can't be any more than ...," Molly said and I reached over the table and felt along the bottom of the desk until I felt a sort of latch. I looked up at Sherlock and nodded my head at him before grabbing his hand and placing it over the latch under the desk.

"...six months old," Sherlock, Molly, and I said simultaneously as Sherlock pressed the hidden latch, opening the hidden compartment in the side of the table. He slid out a book from inside it and blew the dust from the cover. I coughed and waved the dust away from my face and Sherlock threw me an apologetic look. I sighed and grinned at him shaking my head fondly. Sherlock looked down at the cover of the book and gave it a sarcastic glance before he showed it to me. I laughed before Sherlock showed it to Molly. Scrawled across the cover were the words:

**_How I Did It_**

**_By _**

**_Jack the Ripper_**

"Wow!" Molly said in excitement as Sherlock hummed loudly and flamboyantly dropped the book onto the table. Greg leaned forward to peer at the cover.

""How I Did It" by Jack the Ripper?!" Lestrade asked us in exasperation and I nodded at him.

"It would appear so," I told Lestrade as I looked at Sherlock with a slight smirk and shook my head at him. Well, this had been interesting for all of a few minutes.

"It's impossible!" Molly said and I looked at her and grinned as Sherlock turned to her as well.

"Welcome to our world," Sherlock told Molly and Lestrade grinned in delight. As Sherlock leaned down to repack his pouch of tools I heard John's voice in my head again.

**_SMART ARSES_**

Sherlock grimaced, flailing towards his own head. "Get out," Sherlock said quietly, through clenched teeth. I looked up at him and grabbed his hands, stilling his movements and he looked up at me and sighed. I let go of his hands after bringing them up to my lips and kissing them and he continued to repack his pouch. He talked more loudly to Molly and a grinning Greg who seemed to have not heard him this time or were acting like they hadn't. "We won't insult your intelligence by explaining it to you," Sherlock told them and Lestrade made a grand gesture towards the corpse.

"No, please – insult away!" Lestrade told us as Sherlock finished packing up his pouch and we both headed for the door. We both stopped as our internal John's threw in another comment to the both of us.

**_You forgot to put your collars up_**

Sherlock looked at me, appearing confused and disoriented by this internal commentary and he looked at me for a long moment, pleading with me to get it to go away. I nodded at him and Sherlock turned back to the others to address them.

"The-the-the corpse is-is six months old; it's dressed in a shoddy Victorian outfit from a museum. It's been displayed on a dummy for many years in a case facing south-east judging from the fading of the fabric. It was sold off in a fire-damage sale ...," Sherlock said as he got his phone out and showed the screen to Greg. "...a week ago."

"Yup. It's a fake, even the body is. Not even real bones. It isn't obvious unless you actually touch them though. They were casted from real bones which is why they appear to be six months old. It's like the skeletons they would use to teach med students. Dressed it up in the Victorian outfit and left it down here. The brick work has recently been redone and not well," I said as I gestured back to the hole we had stepped through. "The entire room has been set up and the book is a fake," I finished and Lestrade looked at me in shock.

"So the whole thing was a fake?" Lestrade asked me and I nodded at him

"Yes," Sherlock told him before he turned and headed out of the room without me, telling me with his eyes that he needed to get out of there.

"Looked so promising," Lestrade said mournfully and I shrugged at him.

"Facile," Sherlock said, already out of sight and heading back up the stairs.

"Why would someone go to all that trouble?" Molly asked us and Sherlock answered her.

"Why indeed, John?" Sherlock called back and I sighed, knowing that he needed me. Molly looked awkwardly at Greg and I looked over at her apologetically.

"Molly, Greg, give me five minutes," I said before looking back at the way Sherlock left. "Actually, give me ten," I told them and they both nodded at me. I turned and rushed out through the hole and back up the stairs. I found Sherlock up in the hall, pacing around as he pulled at his hair and muttered to himself. "Sherlock," I said, but he ignored me and I sighed before getting his attention again. "Shezza," I said quietly and he turned to look at me immediately. He had gotten used to me calling him that over the last two years and while we had reverted back to our old names for each other now that we could again, old habits die hard. Sherlock stopped, still with his hands in his hair and I walked over to him and grabbed his hands. He let me lead them down to his sides and I looked into his eyes as he looked at me with the most heart breaking look. "Turn it off," I told him and he looked at me pitifully.

"I can't," He whispered to me and I nodded at him in understanding.

"I know. It's why I'm here," I told him before I reached up and flung my arms around his neck and pulled him down, crashing his lips against mine. Sherlock made a surprised sound and for a moment his hands flailed around before he put them on either one of my hips and drew me closer to his body. I pushed him backwards until his back was up against the wall and I nibbled on his bottom lip hungrily. He opened his mouth, granting me access and our tongues tangled together. I brought my hands up and started running my fingers though his hair and Sherlock let out a long moan that rumbled in the back of his throat and all the way through his chest and I felt triumphant. Sherlock's hands wandered a little higher, reaching a bit under my jumper to ghost over my skin, being careful of my stitches on my lower abdomen, before we broke our kiss, breathing heavily. Sherlock looked down at me hungrily and I bit my lip as he suddenly turned us so that my back was up against the wall. He leaned down and pressed kisses down my neck and it was my turn to groan. Sherlock might have been a virgin when we met, but he always knew what he was doing. I growled and pulled him back up, claiming his lips with mine and I let Sherlock's hands wander a bit higher before I stopped him before we got a little bit too steamy. Molly and Lestrade were still just around the corner and I still had a knife injury that was healing on my lower abdomen. I did not need to pull my stitches again, even if it would be worth it. Sherlock rested his forehead against mine as we both breathed heavily and Sherlock groaned once as he closed his eyes. "I think that worked," I chuckled breathlessly and Sherlock's deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. Sherlock hummed as he nuzzled my neck and pressed one last kiss to it. I shivered and when I looked up Sherlock was smirking in smug satisfaction. I reached up and cupped his face in my hands and leaned up on tip toes to press one more kiss to his lips, this time no more than a chaste peck. "It's alright love," I promised Sherlock and he nodded at me and hummed again. Sherlock held me closely for a minute before he stepped back and I giggled as I took in his rumpled attire. I straightened it out before I fixed myself. Our lips were both slightly swollen though and we probably both looked properly snogged. That was one method I had for thoroughly distracting Sherlock and he let slip once that he couldn't think when I was kissing him which meant that it was the best method of helping him shut his mind off. It was fun too.

Molly joined us up stairs and she looked at us for a moment before smiling at me almost knowingly and I nodded at her once before we set off to our next case. We had one more client to see before this day was over, the man who had left his hat in our flat. We took a cab over to his flat. The ride was a silent affair and I sat tucked into Sherlock's side as he rubbed circles on the back of my hand. I was unable to wipe the large grin off of my face and Sherlock seemed a lot more relaxed after our snogging session in the hallway. I paid the cabbie and we all slid out as we reached our destination and we walked up to the door of the flat with Molly just behind us and Sherlock pushed the doorbell. Instead of the bell ringing or buzzing, it played a recording of a London Underground announcement of a male voice saying, "Mind the gap. Mind the gap." Molly giggled quietly while I looked up at Sherlock and raised my eyebrow with a snort. A young man answered the door and Sherlock immediately held out the bobble hat towards him which I had just given him after rescuing it from the confines of my bag.

"Oh. Thanks for hanging on to it," The young man told us and I nodded at him once as Sherlock held onto my waist tightly.

"No problem," Sherlock told him as the young man took the hat and led us inside. "So, what's this all about, Mr. Shilcott?" Sherlock asked the young man who had left his name with us and his address and I nodded in agreement.

"Barely even back in London and found alive for three hours and you've already come by our flat. You must have something rather interesting for us," I mused as we were led into a room which was mostly taken up by a train set with model Tube trains running round it. On the wall was a photo of Howard, wearing his bobble hat, grinning happily and doing a thumbs-up to the camera while he stood in front of a train which didn't seem to be in Britain. The rest of the room was full of all sorts of different train memorabilia.

"My girlfriend's a big fan of yours. Especially loves Lexi's posts in particular," Mr. Shilcott told us and I grinned at him happily.

"Girlfriend?!" Sherlock asked him chuckling sarcastically and I reached up and smacked him in the back of his head. "Woman!" He shouted and I ignored him as I looked at Mr. Shilcott who looked indignant as Molly threw Sherlock a look.

"I'm sorry about him. Do go on," I told Mr. Shilcott who nodded at me, looking slightly amused as Sherlock rubbed the back of his head and shot a look at me. I looked round at him and raised my eyebrow at him and he backed down knowing that he would lose any argument he was thinking of starting.

"I like trains," Mr. Shilcott told us and Sherlock nodded once.

"Yes," Sherlock said and I nodded at him in approval.

"I can see that, you have a wonderful collection," I told our client politely and he grinned at me happily.

"I work on the Tube, on the District Line, and part of my job is to wipe the security footage after it's been cleared," Mr. Shilcott told us as he sat down at his computer. "I was just whizzing through and, er, I found something a bit bizarre," He told us and I raised my eyebrow at that. Our client turned towards the computer and Sherlock threw a silent and quirky "Ooh!" at Molly, who smiled as I smacked his arm playfully, biting my lip to hold back a bubble of laughter. Mr. Shilcott pulled up the relevant footage and we walked over to either side of him to look at the screen, which showed the platform of a station. A train was stationary and its doors were open. There was only one man on the platform. He looked like a business man and he was carrying a briefcase. "Now, this was a week ago. The last train on the Friday night, Westminster station, and this man gets into the last car."

""Car"?" Molly asked him in confusion and I nodded at her.

"They're cars, not carriages. It's a legacy of the early American involvement in the Tube system," Mr. Shilcott told her, sighing a little in exasperation. Molly turned and threw a look at Sherlock and I and I shrugged at her.

"He said he liked trains," Sherlock told her and Molly hummed loudly in agreement.

"And the next stop ...," Mr. Shilcott told us as he showed us the appropriate footage "...St James's Park station ... and ...," He said as the footage showed the doors of the last car opening – and nobody got out. Suddenly Sherlock seemed a lot more interested and I had to say that I was too as we watched the doors to the car close again. "I thought you'd like it."

"Can you show us that again?" I asked Mr. Shilcott and he nodded at me before he replayed the earlier footage for us.

"He gets into the last car at Westminster, the only passenger ...," Mr. Shilcott told us before he switched to the later footage. "...and the car is empty at St James's Park station. Explain that, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna," Mr. Shilcott told us and I raised my eyebrow at him. Well, it looks like we had a bit of a mystery on our hands and a promising one at that.

"Couldn't he have just jumped off?" Molly asked us and Sherlock and I shook our head in unison. Molly looked away from the video footage and watched us as Mr. Shilcott explained it to her.

"There's a safety mechanism that prevents the doors from opening in transit. But there's something else. The driver of that train hasn't been to work since. According to his flatmate, he's on holiday. Came into some money," Mr. Shilcott told us and I hummed thoughtfully as I got out my mobile and started doing a bit of digging. Joanna had set up my phone specifically for me. A prototype she had been tinkering with which would be very beneficial to our line of work.

"Bought off?" Sherlock asked as he turned to look at Molly since I was busy. Molly had been gazing at him for the last few seconds and now looked startled by his question as she had been no doubt lost in her own inner mussing.

"Hmm?" She asked him blankly and Sherlock looked disapprovingly at her for a moment, then turned to Mr. Shilcott as Molly looked embarrassed.

"He was bought off and with a very large sum too," I said suddenly and everyone looked up at me as I turned my mobile around and showed it to Sherlock. Molly and Mr. Shilcott looked at me in surprise as Sherlock smirked at me proudly. "Sorry, just couldn't resist," I said with a shrug and Molly blinked back at me.

"So if the driver of the train was in on it, then the passenger did get off," Sherlock said and I nodded at him in agreement. A train driver didn't suddenly make one hundred thousand pounds by chance. He was bought off and paid for his silence so the passenger did get off of the train. Question was now, how did he?

"There's nowhere he could go. It's a straight run on the District Line between the two stations. There's no side tunnels, no maintenance tunnels – nothing on any map. Nothing. The train never stops, and the man vanishes. Good, innit?!" Mr. Shilcott asked us and I nodded at him.

"Well, just because there isn't a place to go doesn't mean he didn't get off Mr. Shilcott. Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. He gets on and then he is gone. He had to have gone somewhere because he didn't just disappear," I told our client as Sherlock closed his eyes. I looked at him, frowning thoughtfully and realized that he was onto something.

"I know that face," Sherlock said as his eyes snapped opened and I could see that he was in his Mind Palace now. He looked at me once and I nodded before I closed my eyes and called up footage of trains travelling along Tube lines, racing along the various lines on the Tube map, and generally recalling everything that I could about the London Underground. We walked out to the stairs outside of the flat after I assured Mr. Shilcott that we were on his case and that we would tell him anything we found out. Sherlock moved on autopilot and I helped him out to the landing as Molly walked down stairs in front of us and left us to think. I continued my own search, mentally walking down a long flight of stairs beside escalators in an Underground station. Briefly the face of the disappearing man appeared in my mind before more images from the Tube network and maps flashed though my brain, and then the man's face appeared again. I did know who he was, in fact, I had even met the man before.

**John's POV**

John walked towards the front door of 221 and stopped a couple of feet away from the doorstep, looking thoughtfully at the door. A man came around the corner and walked along the road, barging past him and bumping roughly into his shoulder. John turned to look at him as he continued onwards without speaking.

"'Scuse you," John said sarcastically and the man glanced over his shoulder at him but didn't stop. Behind John, another man walked up to him, grabbed his left wrist, and instantly jabbed the needle of a syringe into the right side of his neck. John tried to grab at him but the drug was already starting to take effect and his weakening struggles were in vain. The first man came back and they both held him as he started to fall. They carefully lowered him to the ground and he lied there, unable to move. His last thought before he blacked out was a hope for two certain people to find him.

**Lexi's POV**

Molly looked up the stairs and slowly walked up them towards Sherlock and me as we stood there together. I watched Sherlock closely as he still had his eyes closed and after another moment he opened his eyes again and I smiled at him fondly.

"The journey between those stations usually takes five minutes. That journey took ten minutes – ten minutes to get from Westminster to St James's Park," Sherlock said quick fire, his eyes rapidly flickering back and forth. He looked down at Molly then. "So we're going to need maps – lots of maps, older maps, all the maps."

"Right," Molly said and from her tone of voice I knew that she was ready to be done for the day. She wasn't like John. She had a job of her own and she couldn't devote all her time to helping us. I didn't' expect her too either. She had a life too. In fact, she was moving on with her life as well.

"Fancy some chips?" Sherlock asked her as we walked down the stairs together and passed by her.

"What?" Molly asked Sherlock in confusion and I looked back at her and smiled brightly.

"I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road. The owner always gives Lexi and me extra portions," Sherlock told Molly and I sighed in contentment. Chips actually sounded really good right now. There were just some things that you missed that seemed so ordinary until you had to give them up.

"Did you two get him off a murder charge?" Molly asked us as she followed us down the stairs.

"No – we helped him put up some shelves," Sherlock said and Molly giggled as Sherlock and I smiled briefly.

"We'll you put them up love while I did some organizing," I reminded Sherlock and he nodded at me in remembrance.

"Sherlock, Lexi?" Molly asked us and Sherlock hummed questioningly as I looked back at the pathologist.

"What's up sweetie?" I asked her as Sherlock and I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and we turned back to look at her.

"What was today about?" Molly asked us questioningly.

"Saying thank you," Sherlock told her as I watched our pathologist closely. She had changed too. Joanna had been good for her like she had been for me. Molly was a lot more confident that she had been before.

"For what?" Molly asked us in confusion and I smiled at her.

"For everything you did for us," I told Molly honestly. We owed a lot to Molly. We could have never done what we needed to without her help. She had been critical to our plan.

"It's okay. It was my pleasure," Molly told us as she reached the bottom of the stairs and started towards the door.

"No, we mean it," Sherlock told Molly earnestly and she turned back to the both of us.

"Honestly Molly we could have never done it without your help," I told the girl, very grateful that she had done something like that for us and kept our secret for so long, even from John.

"I don't mean "pleasure". I mean, I didn't mind. I wanted to," Molly told us, awkwardly correcting herself.

"Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to us was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible," Sherlock said as we both stepped closer to her, Sherlock speaking quietly.

"We would have probably died for real without your help Molly and for your help in our survival you'll always have our thanks," I told the girl who looked slightly overwhelmed and Sherlock drew in a deep breath,

"But you can't do this again, can you?" Sherlock asked Molly and she smiled at us. When she spoke her voice was a little choked.

"I had a lovely day. I'd love to – I just ... um ...," Molly said awkwardly and she looked down.

"Oh, congratulations, by the way," Sherlock told Molly as we followed her gaze down.

"It's a beautiful ring. So, who is the very lucky man?" I asked Molly and she smiled at me a bit.

"He's not from work," Molly told us and Sherlock and I both smiled. "We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He's nice. We ... he's got a dog ... we-we go to the pub on weekends and he ... I've met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family. I've no idea why I'm telling you two this," Molly told us in embarrassment and I laughed at that and hugged her tightly.

"Because when you love someone they're all we can think about and all we want to talk about," I told Molly as I flicked a look over at Sherlock who was watching me with a soft expression on his face.

"I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths!" Sherlock told her and I chuckled at that.

"No?" Molly asked him and I nodded at her.

"No sweetie, but it seems all the men I do are," I told her with a laugh and Sherlock turned to look at me, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

"Are there many other men?" Sherlock asked me jokingly, but I could see just the hint of nervousness in his eyes. He told me once that he was just waiting for the day when I realized that I could do better than him. I told him he was being an idiot and that the only person I wanted was him and he really couldn't do better than himself.

"Well, there is this one man," I told Sherlock and Molly smiled at the pair of us as she realized what I was doing. Sherlock didn't seem to and his face fell just slightly. "He's rather tall, has dark curly hair, and he has the most gorgeous eyes ever. Don't even get me started on his smile," I said and Sherlock smirked smugly when he caught on to what I was doing. "He's rather the jealous type," I told Sherlock as I brought my arms up around his neck and smiled at him as Molly watched us happily.

"Well then, we shan't tell him about this then shall we?" Sherlock asked me with a smirk before he bent down and kissed me for a long second. It was a sweet kiss and I smiled through it before opening my eyes and grinning up at Sherlock.

"Hmm, I think not," I told Sherlock before we both chuckled happily and Molly squealed behind us.

"You two are just so cute together," Molly said and I shook my head at her fondly as Sherlock blushed slightly. He was starting to get over his aversion to public displays of affection and we were far more affectionate with each other now that we were before. Sherlock and I turned and walked out of the front door, Molly following after us a moment later.

"Don't wait!" I called back to Molly as Sherlock and I started down the path together as it snowed softly around us. Molly giggled behind me and I hugged Sherlock's arm, resting my head against his shoulder as we walked into London together. The snow was beautiful and there was nothing nicer than an evening stroll in the snow when you were with the one you loved. Sherlock looked down at me with a smirk before he pulled me closely to him and kissed the top of my head. I sighed in contentment, feeling happier than I could remember in a long while.

**Third Person POV**

There's was full moon in the sky that rose as darkness fell over London. John slowly started to regain consciousness. He seemed to be surrounded by foliage, and the flickers of moonlight coming through the greenery seemed like a flashlight being shone on him. Choking, he tried to move his hands but found that he couldn't. He opened his mouth to cry out but no sound would come out. He tried to raise his head but eventually sunk back down again in defeat. There was a bleeding wound on the right side of his head just at his hairline that he could feel but he could do nothing except lie their helplessly.

Elsewhere, Mary was walking along a street but stopped to take out her phone when it beeped a text alert. Taking off her glove to activate the phone, she saw the message:

**_Save souls now!_**

**_John or James Watson?_**

She flicked to the next screen to read the second message:

**_Saint or Sinner?_**

**_James or John?_**

**_The more is Less?_**

Frowning, she lowered the phone and hurried on. Suddenly a thought same to her, a very worrying thought and she turned and quickly head in the other direction back towards her car. Sometime later she was at the door of 221. Mrs. Hudson opened the door to her knock.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson," Mary said and the older woman frowned as Mary pushed her way inside. "Sorry – I-I think someone's got John – John Watson," Mary said and upstairs in 221B's living room, Sherlock and Lexi, who were still in their coats and holding a bag of chips each just inside the door as they had only just returned to their flat, turned at the sound of her voice.

"Mary?" Lexi called down the stairs as the blonde woman stormed up them quickly, Mrs. Hudson following after her.

"Hang on! Who are you?" Mrs. Hudson asked the woman who barged into her flat as Lexi called down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm his fiancée," Mary told the older woman, stopping partway up the stairs and turning back to her.

"Ah!" Mrs. Hudson said with a bright smile. Sherlock and Lexi had walked out to the landing already as Mary continued to hurry up the stairs.

"Mary? What's wrong?" Sherlock asked the blonde woman as Lexi frowned thoughtfully, deducing her current state.

"Someone sent me this. At first I thought it was just a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It's a skip-code," Mary told them quickly as she took her phone from her pocket. Sherlock and Lexi both looked at her closely, then turned their attention to her phone as she showed them the first part of the message:

**Save souls now!**

**John or James Watson?**

"It's definitely a skip code. A simple one too. That's nice for a change," Lexi said as she read over the code, mouthing out the words.

"First word, then every third," Sherlock agreed with her. "Save ... John ... Watson," He continued and Mary pulled up the next message for them.

**Saint or Sinner?**

**James or John?**

**The more is Less?**

"Saint James the Less," Lexi breathed in horror as she read the second part of the skip code aloud.

"Now!" Sherlock shouted urgently and he and Lexi dropped their chips to the floor before they raced down the stairs together followed closely by Mary.

"Where are we going?" Mary asked them in confusion as she hurried after them quickly.

"St James the Less. It's a church. Twenty minutes by car," Sherlock answered Mary as he and Lexi pelted out into the street.

"Did you drive here Mary?" Lexi asked her suddenly and Mary nodded quickly.

"Er, yes," Mary answered her, not sure what that had to do with anything.

"It's too slow. It's too slow," Sherlock said, pacing about in the middle of the road. He was oblivious to the approach of a car, which swerved around him as Lexi quickly pulled him towards her into safety, the driver blaring his horn at the both of them.

"Sherlock, Lexi, what are we waiting for?" Mary asked the two consulting detectives frantically. Sherlock and Lexi both turned towards a single oncoming headlight.

"This," Sherlock told Mary and he stepped directly into the path of the approaching motorcycle and held up an imperious hand. The driver slammed on the brakes and the bike skidded to a halt just in time.

"Official government business, we're commandeering your bike," Lexi told the driver and his passenger as she opened a badge and flashed it at them. "Now," Lexi said and the driver and the passenger hurried off the bike and handed over their helmets to her and Sherlock. "It will be returned to you within three hours," Lexi told them as she gestured at Mary and Sherlock threw his helmet towards her. "Mary," Lexi said as she pulled a Bluetooth earpiece out of her coat pocket and fitted it onto her ear before putting her helmet on, not about to argue with Sherlock who she knew would want her to have it.

"We can't all fit!" Mary said in exasperation as she and Sherlock were handed off the bike by the driver and they climbed onto the back of it together.

"Try me Mary. Now get your arse on the back of this bike!" Lexi shouted at her and Mary put on her helmet before doing as Lexi told her too.

"Do you even know how to drive it?" Mary shouted ahead to her and Lexi shook her head and laughed nervously.

"No! Lock, any ideas?" Lexi asked him as Sherlock reached around her and put his hands over hers on the handlebars.

"Together," He told Lexi, leaning in closely to her as Mary gingerly wrapped her arms around his waist so she wouldn't scoot off the end. They actually fit rather well since Lexi and Sherlock didn't take up much room together.

"Together," Lexi agreed before she kicked down and the bike roared to life again under them. She turned the handlebar with Sherlock and they shot off into the night as Mary made a squeak as they started racing through the streets. Lexi put on a burst of speed and narrowed her eyes as she entered in a voice command into her Bluetooth.

"Go for Joanna," Joanna answered and Lexi grinned slightly as Sherlock calculated that it would currently take them ten minutes to reach St James the Less Church.

"Joanie, John's been taken. St. James the Less Church. Mary received a skip code. Do what you can," Lexi said as Mary's phone sounded a text alert and she checked it. It read:

**Getting warmer Mr. and Mrs. Holmes**

**You have about ten minutes**

She showed it to Sherlock and Lexi and they drove on.

"Hold on," Lexi shouted back to them in warning before she put on more speed, breaking all of the speed limits.

"What does it mean? What are they going to do to him?" Mary asked the two detectives worriedly and Sherlock shouted back to her.

"I don't know," Sherlock shouted above the noise and Lexi called back to them.

"Calculating for all of the probabilities, probably something very not good!" Lexi told them before she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward a bit, taking a corner very quickly as Sherlock let her drive. She seemed to catch on rather quickly.

Wherever John was, he was struggling to move. He could hear the sound of children's voices some distance away. He grunted as he frantically strained to escape but he couldn't make any louder noise.

On the motorcycle, Mary held her phone over Sherlock's shoulder so that he and Lexi could see the latest message:

**8 minutes and counting...**

Sherlock and Lexi turned their attention back to the road and accelerated, but shortly afterwards they approached a roadblock. The road ahead was cordoned off with police tape, and two police officers were explaining the situation to stopped cars.

"Damn!" Sherlock shouted as Lexi slammed on the breaks.

"Fuck! Sherlock?" Lexi asked as Sherlock looked to their left and rapidly worked out an alternative route which he overlaid onto the original route. The original one had an ETA of 8 minutes; the new, more direct route showed an ETA of 5 minutes.

"Left!" Sherlock told Lexi and she quickly turned the bike and headed up onto the pavement and into a walkway between two buildings. One of the police officers uselessly chased after them.

"Oi! Oi! You can't go down there!" The police officer shouted after them.

"Um, you might want to hold on!" Lexi shouted back to them as on the other side of the buildings, the path descended down a long flight of steps. Sherlock and Mary held on tighter as Lexi disregarded the stairs and headed straight down them and onto the road at the bottom, which happened to be The Mall. They raced onwards towards Buckingham Palace, Lexi looking like she was ready to cut down anyone who dared to get in her way.

Elsewhere, a fireworks party was starting in a small park in a square near a church. Children waved their sparklers around, and some people were playing small drums. One little girl gazed at the gigantic bonfire which had been piled up in the middle of the park, made up of broken wooden pallets, furniture and anything else which had been scavenged. She looked up at the Guy Fawkes guy which had been perched on the top, completely unaware that John was lying on the ground in the middle of the bonfire, out of sight of all the people nearby. The children gathered near, knowing that it wouldn't be long until the fire would be lit. John opened his mouth and tried again to cry out but all he could manage was a faint moan. He thrashed, trying to push himself up and continued to moan quietly. A man approached the bonfire carrying a flaming brand of wood and the children watched him delightedly. John managed to produce some slightly louder croaks but they couldn't be heard above the excited chatter of the children and the drumming. Smiling cheerfully, the man lowered the brand to the foot of the fire.

On the motorcycle, Mary received a new message:

**Better hurry**

**things are**

**hotting up here...**

"Hotting?" Lexi asked Sherlock with a frown before she turned back to the road. "Joanna, try to trace the messages that Mary is receiving," Lexi said into her Bluetooth set.

"Working it already. The bugger is being a right bastard," Joanna grumbled before she started to do her own work. They continued onwards but their speed was impeded when they crossed a bridge and were blocked by a slow-moving lorry.

"Do you want legal or fast?" Lexi asked Sherlock and he grinned at her, knowing her methods.

"What are you suggesting?" Sherlock asked her and Lexi smirked back at him as she turned her head.

"Cairo," Lexi told Sherlock and he chuckled as he got the reference. Lexi booked a hard right after she slammed on the breaks to gain some room. The car behind them honked loudly and Lexi flipped them the bird before she started to weave amongst the cars along the bridge dangerously, driving up onto the walk way on the side of the bridge as Mary screamed in fright and held onto Sherlock tighter. "Almost as good as a horse!" Lexi called back to Sherlock and he chuckled, recalling when they had road on horseback through the deserts of Cairo as several members of Moriarty's network chased after them with swords and guns and she had performed a similar manoeuvre. They made it over the bridge and Lexi shot down the road, jolting them as she drove off of the pavement and back onto the road.

At the park the man with the brand, trying to light the bonfire without any success, looked round and shook his head. "No. It's not gonna work. Bit damp. I'll get something to help it along, yeah?" The man asked and he walked away. Part of the bonfire was smouldering and the smoke drifted across John who continued to try and cry out. His voice was getting a little stronger and he managed to let out a couple of louder but wordless cries. Standing nearby, the little girl frowned at the sound, looking in concern at the guy on top of the fire as the noises continued.

On the motorcycle, Mary showed Sherlock and Lexi the newest message:

**Stay of execution.**

**You've got two more minutes.**

Sherlock checked his mental map, which showed that if they continued by road, their ETA was 3 minutes. However, if they went in a straight line it would only take 1 minute. "Straight!" Sherlock shouted to Lexi and she nodded before swerving the bike and heading straight down into a pedestrian underpass.

At the bonfire, the little girl's father, the one who tried to light the fire, came back with a small can of petrol. His daughter turned to him.

"He doesn't like it, Daddy," The little girl said plaintively and her father made a questioning noise. "Guy Fawkes – he doesn't like it!" The little girl said pointing up at the guy.

"Stay back, Zoe. Back. Now," The girl's father told her as he unscrewed the lid of the can. She stared at him as he started to splash fuel over the wood of the bonfire. Inside, John's cries were getting louder.

The motorcycle charged on through the underpass as Lexi turned and made a sharp turn. Lexi forced the bike up a steep flight of steps and out onto the street again. They were finally driving along beside the fence surrounding the park. Mary received one more text:

**What a shame**

**Mr. and Mrs. Holmes.**

**John is quite a Guy!**

She held the phone over Sherlock's shoulder to show him and Lexi.

"What does it mean?" Mary asked him as Lexi finally figured it out.

"Joanna, the date! What is the date!?" Lexi asked frantically as they were forced to slow down around the street slightly.

"The fourth of November," Joanna told her and Lexi gasped as her thoughts were confirmed. "Why?!" Joanna asked as Lexi did the unimaginable. Smiling, Zoe's dad took his flaming brand to the fire and tossed it onto the petrol-soaked wood.

"Take control!" Lexi shouted as the only warning before she somehow managed to climb upright and jumped off of the moving bike. Sherlock grabbed the bike and steadied it as she rolled onto the road before popping up quickly.

"Lexi!" Sherlock shouted in shock as she took a running start at the fence around the park and jumped, catching her foot halfway up the fence before she climbed up and over it and then rolled to the ground. Sherlock's head whipped round as the bonfire began to blaze and all the onlookers cheered. "Oh my God," Sherlock said in horror as he realized what Lexi had. John was in the bonfire. He accelerated around the square towards the only gap in the fence surrounding the park. The onlookers continued to celebrate the ignition of the fire. John's voice finally came to him and he yelled as loudly as he could.

"Help!" John shouted and Zoe screamed, and now others could hear John's voice too and reacted with horror. Her father ran to hold her back and to comfort her. As Lexi suddenly shot right through the crowd of onlookers.

"John!" Lexi shouted before she ducked through the growing flames and pushed past the wood roughly as she dove straight in under and into the bonfire. She found John who looked up at her in shock as she tripped and fell next to him. Sherlock raced the bike into the park and hurled himself off., pushing them out of her way or weaving through them.

"Jump off!" Sherlock shouted to Mary and she quickly stepped off as he dropped the bike onto its side. The fire was really taking hold now, and John wailed as the heat increased, reaching out for Lexi who pushed up onto her hand.

"John!" Lexi said before she coughed. "I'm going to get you out. Can you move?" Lexi asked him calmly and John shook his head.

"No. Someone drugged me!" John shouted back to her and she nodded as she moved and helped sit him up. Outside the bonfire Sherlock threw his helmet off and ran towards the fire, shoving people out of his way.

"Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!" Sherlock shouted, needing to get to the fire because John was in it and now because he couldn't see Lexi. He knew her, he knew that she would throw herself right into the fire to rescue John. That was what she had always done for him. It didn't matter if she was putting herself into danger or not, she would throw herself into harm's way to protect him. Sherlock finally reached the front of the crowd and raced on towards the bonfire.

"John! Lexi!" Sherlock shouted frantically.

"John! Get out, John!" Mary shouted as she ran behind him. "Where's Lexi?!" Mary shouted as she looked around for the red head.

"Inside, she went inside to get John!" Sherlock shouted back to Mary as he crouched down, peering through the flames and trying to see where John and Lexi were while throwing some of the wood aside that had fallen back over where Lexi had managed to get through. He and Mary continued to cry John's name along with Lexi's before they heard them.

"Help!" John shouted before he heard Lexi's voice.

"Sherlock!" Lexi shouted to him and now that Sherlock had a location and he plunged his arms into the inferno, throwing pieces of the bonfire aside and creating a path into it. At last he was able to reach in and he grabbed John's arms and hauled him out as Lexi shoved him towards Sherlock first. Sherlock pulled him across the ground to safety, leaving him there for Mary to take care of as he turned back and reached in, Lexi's hand closing in around his. He pulled her with a tight yank out of the bonfire and to his side before he laid her gently down on the ground next to John, rolling her over onto her back as Mary did the same for John. John laid there, looking extremely dazed as Sherlock loomed over him and Lexi.

"John? John!" Sherlock said as he gently patted John's face and Lexi coughed loudly. "Lexi?!" Sherlock asked her as she sat up and he hugged her tightly to him, kissing the top of her head.

"John," Mary cried, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Hey, John," Sherlock said softly as he looked over the top of Lexi's head at the army doctor. John gazed blankly up at them and their faces faded out for a moment. He blinked trying to force his vision to work.

"See, told you," Lexi coughed and John blinked up at her as Sherlock turned to her.

"Don't do that again," Sherlock told Lexi quickly and she nodded as Sherlock held onto her tightly. "I can't lose you too," Sherlock told her and Lexi raised her hand and place it on his cheek, staring up into his eyes.

"Never again," Lexi promised him before she laughed slightly. "It's amazing how fire can expose our priorities," Lexi quoted and Sherlock bent down and kissed her soundly as sirens sounded from around the corner. Lexi kissed him back passionately as ambulance rounded the corner and parked in front of the park.

The EMTs rushed out and the crowd moved to let them through. Lexi and John were both loaded on to stretchers despite Lexi's protests and Sherlock and Mary loaded into the back of the two ambulances. Lexi glared for the entire ride as she was given oxygen but Sherlock insisted that she get checked out. John was fine, no lasting injuries, just a bit of smoke inhalation that was treated with some oxygen. The drug wore off completely and John was left feeling exhausted. Lexi on the other hand had sustained some more injuries. She had cuts and scrapes all over her arms from when she had jumped off of the moving bike and the leg of her jeans had been cut open and she had a bloody and torn up knee from where she had fallen onto the road as well as some minor bruising of her bone. Her stitches had pulled for the third time and were left an oozing mess and thus had to be redone again and she was told that if she pulled them one more time she would be forced to stay in the hospital until she healed completely. She was discharged after breathing in some oxygen and receiving a prescription for low dosage pain medication which would do nothing for her and Sherlock talked with Mary. As both John and Lexi were exhausted they agreed that it would be better to take their respective fiancées home for some rest and that Mary would send John round to their flat the next day. Mycroft sent them a car and once they were back at the flat Sherlock carried Lexi up the stairs. He set her down in their bed and she grinned up at him, the pen meds that they had given her when she first arrived making her slightly loopy. She giggled up at him and Sherlock looked down at her fondly. He helped her change into her night clothes before he went out to the kitchen and ordered them some Chinese takeaway. They sat in their bed that night, laughing together as they ate takeaway and Sherlock and her played Chess. They stayed up to the early morning hours together before Sherlock and her fell asleep holding tightly to each other. Sherlock watched Lexi after she fell asleep with her head on his chest and he listened to her quiet breathing, assuring him like he did all those nights when they were dismantling Moriarty's web that she was safe and in his arms where she belonged. Never again, never again would he lose her, especially if he had something to say about it.


	89. Gunpowder Treason and Plot

**Hello sweeties! We are back again with another chapter and this case ends on Tuesday or possibly before. I will consult with my guru later. That's you Marci. This chapter is for you too hon. Oh dear lord just, just so you all know this is how she keeps me sane. We played chess over FaceTime because I couldn't look at a chapter any longer without going mental and she got me to put it down for my own benefit and yours. That was after the fourth cuppa. Marci is also my unofficial/official beta so expect an improvement in less grammatical mistakes I've missed. Let's see, anything else? Yes, the Baker Street Irregulars would love to hear your Sign of 3 and Their Last Vow theories. What do you think might happen in the future given the hints already? Now with further ado and because I need to go and make tea and can't think of anything else I need to inform you of, Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty Seven- Gunpowder Treason and Plot<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I had woken up and messed around the flat together in the morning as I felt rather lazy and Sherlock was making me sit on the couch and rest. I felt fine, a bit smoked and my hair was slightly singed on the ends, but other than that I felt fine. Sure my knee hurt and my stitches and my arms, but I was on meds for those, better meds that Mycroft's doctor had given me. Still, despite my best efforts to assure Sherlock that I was okay, he insisted upon taking care of me. It was rather sweet so I didn't make a fuss about it. Around the mid-afternoon Sherlock and I got a surprise visit from none other than his parents. Apparently Mycroft neglected to tell us that they were coming to visit and see London for a few days after they heard that Sherlock and I were back. I said heard loosely. I actually meant that Mycroft had run and told them right away because he wanted to be an annoying pain in the arse. Sherlock sat in his armchair in his typical suit sans dressing gown as he had gotten dressed while I remained in my pyjamas. I sat across from him in John's chair with his blue dressing gown over my tank top and cotton bed shorts as that was all that I felt up to wearing right now. I knew his parents really wouldn't mind. Mummy already had been tittering over me as soon as she had seen my knee all bandaged up and the fact that I was favouring my other leg. Sherlock had his eyes closed and he sighed quietly as he occasionally drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. His parents were telling us some story about a lost lottery ticket and how they had found it. I was trying to pay attention and be polite, but I was currently having trouble concentrating on them as my mind wandered and I longed to go over and sit with Sherlock. I felt bad for Papa Holmes as Mummy had been talking for a rather long time and would hardly let him get a word in edgewise.

"...which wasn't the way I'd put it at all. Silly woman. Anyway, it was then that I first noticed it was missing. I said, "Have you checked down the back of the sofa?"" Mummy Holmes told us and I smiled at her politely. Sherlock screwed his face up, then tilted his head forward a little, almost nodding off to sleep until his head jerked back up again. I stretched out my good leg and nudged Sherlock's foot with my own. He opened his eyes and looked across at me, but I didn't turn towards him as I continued to watch his parents. He steepled his fingers in front of his face as Mummy looked round at her husband. I nudged Sherlock with my foot again and I saw him raise his eyebrow questioningly from the corner of my eye and I smirked slightly as I did it to him one more time. He caught my foot this time round and put it on top of his knee before he started messaging my foot. I flicked my gaze over to him and watched him fondly as he gestured for me to bring my other foot up. I scooted forward in my chair and did as he asked, sighing in contentment as he rubbed my feet. It wasn't what I had been going for exactly but this was nice. "He's always losing things down the back of the sofa, aren't you, dear?" Mummy Holmes asked her husband as I made faces at Sherlock to cheer him up. He smirked slightly as his parents didn't even look our way and notice that we weren't completely listening to them any more.

"'Fraid so," Papa Holmes said and I looked back over at them with an amused smile on my face as Sherlock glared skywards as if cursing Mycroft's name.

"Keys, small change, sweeties. Especially his glasses," Mummy Holmes told us as I giggled slightly and raised my hand to my mouth to cover it up.

"Glasses," Papa Holmes repeated as he looked over at me and winked having heard my giggle. We shared a conspiratorial look and I shook my head at him as I smiled back at him brightly. Sherlock actually needed glasses now no matter how much he tried to protest that he didn't. We were both getting older and my vision had changed a lot and so had his.

"Blooming things. I said, "Why don't you get a chain – wear 'em round your neck?" And he says, "What – like…," Mummy Holmes said before she and Papa Holmes finished almost simultaneously. "Larry Grayson?"" Sherlock patted my foot and I looked to him and brought my feet down so that he could stand. He quickly got to his feet, buttoning his jacket as he walked towards his parents.

"So did you find it eventually, your lottery ticket?" Sherlock asked them as he stepped onto the coffee table and then onto the sofa between the both of them. Mummy leaned to the side, getting out of his way, and Papa Holmes stared up at him as Sherlock started idly flicking through the paperwork stuck to the wall.

"Yes sweetie. Your Mum was just telling us that," I told Sherlock as Papa Holmes and I shared a look. I gestured to Sherlock and pulled a face and the older man chuckled knowingly.

"Well, yes, thank goodness. We caught the coach on time after all. We managed to see, er, St Paul's, the Tower," She told us and I tried to not make a face at her mention of the Tower. It still brought up memories of Moriarty for me which I would much rather just forget about. "... but they weren't letting anyone in to Parliament," Mummy continued and Sherlock frowned and looked down at her. "Some big debate going on," Mummy told us and I nodded at her in confirmation.

"Hmm?" I hummed and all three of them looked back at me. "Yes, the Anti-Terrorism bill. Joanna was telling me about it. Well, we sort of poked around where we didn't belong," I told Sherlock's parents with a laugh and Sherlock smirked at me, knowing that I meant Joanna and I had hacked into something we shouldn't have. We both were curious as it was slightly coincidental that a terrorism act was planned around the time an Anti-Terrorism bill was being considered in Parliament. I never ignored a coincidence unless I was busy. The living room door opened suddenly and John walked into the room. Sherlock and I both looked round in surprise. Mary said that she would try to send him over to see us at some point today, but we never thought he would actually come.

"John!" Sherlock said loudly in surprise as I stood up quickly, using the arm of the chair to help pull myself up and holding the back of John's chair for support as my knee was a little achy.

"Sorry – you're busy," John told us as he threw a look over at me before he made to leave.

"Er, no-no-no, they were just leaving," Sherlock said quickly and John stopped in his tracks as Sherlock stepped off the sofa and reached down to pull his mother to her feet.

"Oh, were we?" Mummy Holmes asked him in confusion as she looked over at me questioningly.

"Yes," Sherlock said quickly as I nodded at her.

"Apparently," I told her and John made to move towards the door again.

"No, no, if you've got a case ...," John told us and I shook my head at him.

"No, not a case, no-no-no," Sherlock told him quickly, not wanting him to leave yet. "Go. 'Bye," Sherlock told his mother rudely and I sighed heavily as Papa Holmes got up and stood next to his wife.

"Yeah, well, we're here 'til Saturday, remember," Mummy Holmes told us as she smiled over at me.

"I will. We'll have to go out before you leave. Joanna and I can get the boys together," I told Mummy Holmes and Sherlock threw me a glare at this promise of another meeting. I was not going to let him get out of it though. His parents were nice and lovely people and I adored them. Joanna and I would get everyone together before they left London especially since we were both engaged to their sons now and it would be the first time the six of us were all together.

"Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out," Sherlock told them as he herded his parents towards the door. I walked over to Sherlock, joining him by the door so that I could at least say goodbye to them.

"Well, give us a ring," Mummy told us and I nodded at her.

"Very nice, yes, good. Get out," Sherlock told them and I sighed and rolled my eyes as he bundled them onto the landing. He tried to close the door, but Mummy turned and stuck her heavy shoe into the doorway to stop the door from shutting. She gave me a knowing look over Sherlock's shoulder and I threw an apologetic look back at her. Sherlock pulled the door open a little, staring down at her foot. "I can't tell you how glad we are, Sherlock, Lexi. All that time people thinking the worst of you two. And Lexi dear, we're ever so glad to see you again, what with everything," Mummy Holmes said, alluding to the fact that Sherlock and I were still engaged. We might not have mentioned our sort of wedding to them, in fact only very few people knew about that. Sherlock glanced round at John, who had walked over to the window and was deliberately keeping his back to us. "Take care of yourself dear and Sherlock you better watch out for her. I don't want to hear of her getting hurt again. She deserves a break from running around all the time," Mummy Holmes scolded Sherlock as she looked down to my bandaged leg.

"I know," Sherlock told his mother quietly before he glanced round at me, his expression soft. I smiled at him fondly. "We're just so pleased it's all over," Mummy told us and I nodded at her with a smile. Grimacing, Sherlock tried to slam the door on her foot to make her remove it, but she didn't budge. I smacked him in the arm and he chose not to look round at me.

"Us too," I told Mummy and she grinned back at me warmly.

"Ring up more often, won't you? The both of you," Papa Holmes told us and Sherlock hummed in agreement hurriedly, trying to get them to leave. "She worries," The older man added and he gave me a knowing look. That seemed to be what every woman in the Holmes family did, worry about her men.

"Promise?" Mummy asked us and again Sherlock glanced round towards John to ascertain that he couldn't hear him, then he leaned close to his mother.

"Promise," He told her quietly and I nodded in agreement.

"We both do," I added and Mummy Holmes smiled and reached up to stroke Sherlock's cheek.

"Oh, for God...," Sherlock said before he attempted to shove the door closed. I stopped him by yanking the door back open and he looked round at me in exasperation as I stepped past him and out onto the landing, giving each of his parents a warm hug.

"I'll watch out for him," I promised Mummy Holmes in a whisper and she patted my cheek affectionately before she and Papa Holmes started off down the stairs after the older man pulled me in for one last hug. From what I found out, Sherlock's father was already rather fond of me. I stepped back into the flat and closed the living room door, nodding at Sherlock to continue now that I was done. He let out a deep sigh before we turned to John.

"Sorry about that," Sherlock told John who shook his head as he looked back at us.

"No, it's fine. Clients?" John asked us as he turned around and looked the both of us over, glancing down at my leg briefly as I crossed my arms lightly over my chest to hide some of my injuries from view and to keep from wincing as my stitches on my lower abdomen pulled a bit. He looked good, better in fact than the last time he had seen us. His tone was at least normal and he didn't seem ready to kill the both of us or, well, more like Sherlock. He seemed to be blaming a lot of what happened on Sherlock which wasn't exactly fair as it had been the both of us who had jumped and the both of us who had faked our deaths. While Sherlock agreed with me that it was necessary it was also my plan. I noted that his furry little friend was gone and I bit my lip to hide my grin.

"...Just my parents," Sherlock told John after hesitating briefly and he walked across the living room as I went and sat down in the seat that Sherlock's father had just vacated on the couch. I carefully propped my leg up on the coffee table to stretch my knee out, wincing a bit as I did so at the sudden pain that shot through my knee.

"Your parents?" John asked Sherlock in shock before he looked over at me as if to confirm this and I nodded at him.

"In town for a few days," Sherlock continued as he stood near his chair, watching John closely.

"Your parents?" John repeated and I nodded again as he looked at me and I raised my eyebrow at him slightly.

"Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of "Les Mis". Tried to talk Lexi and me into doing it," Sherlock told John, finishing with a shrug of his shoulders and a tight lipped grin. I laughed at that and Sherlock's face brightened slightly at my laughter despite the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Well, Mycroft should have known that it's Joanna's favourite musical. She never would have let him get out of it anyway, not in a million years," I told Sherlock and he smirked back at me. "I think she likes to secretly torture him every so often. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is anything but," I told Sherlock and I shook my head ruefully.

"Those were your parents?" John asked Sherlock, still harping on that fact as he went to the window to look out.

"Yes," Sherlock told him as he looked across to me in confusion, not getting why John was so amazed by this fact.

"Well...," John said and he chuckled briefly. "That is not what I ...," John said before he turned and looked at Sherlock who raised his eyebrows at him and inquisitively tilted his head slightly to the side before John looked out of the window again.

"What?" Sherlock asked John in confusion as I realized where this was heading.

"I-I mean they're just ... so ...," John said and he looked back at Sherlock again who directed a hard gaze at him, narrowing his eyes. "...ordinary," John finished with a smile and Sherlock tutted disparagingly.

"It's a cross I have to bear," Sherlock said, looking away from John and I rolled my eyes at them as I stood up and walked over to Sherlock, grimacing slightly which only he noticed as John chuckled.

"No, they're extraordinary. They'd have to be to have raised someone like you," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me softly as I raised on my tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips when he turned to capture them at the last moment. I grinned up at him fondly as John slowly took a few steps across the room before turning back to us.

"Did they know, too?" John asked us, his face losing all the hints of his earlier mirth and Sherlock and I didn't meet his eyes. Sherlock hummed questioningly and John continued. "That you two spent the last two years playing hide and seek," John said and Sherlock picked an imaginary piece of fluff off the keyboard of his laptop which was open on the dining table.

"Maybe," Sherlock told him quietly and I looked up at John, meeting his gaze.

"Ah! So that's why they weren't at the funeral," John said as he leaned over the dining chair before walking a few steps away with his gloves in his hands.

"Sorry. Sorry again," Sherlock told John defensively and John hummed cynically as he slowly stepped towards the door. Sherlock and I watched him go for a moment before Sherlock lowered his head. "Sorry," Sherlock said again softly and, drawing in a deep breath, John met our eyes for a second before he looked down, breathing out slowly.

"We weren't going to tell them," I told John and he looked up at me quickly at that as Sherlock slipped his hand into mine and I squeezed his hand comfortingly. "Mycroft was the one who told them. The less people who knew we thought was better, but Mycroft told them anyway. We are sorry John, but…," I said, trailing off awkwardly. How could you tell someone that you couldn't tell them that you faked your deaths because you had to have them mourn believably?

"See you've shaved it off, then," Sherlock said, changing the subject and I looked over at him gratefully.

"Yeah. Wasn't working for me," John told us awkwardly as he shrugged and I sat on the dining chair that Sherlock pulled out for me. I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow and he gave me a "Sit" look which I listened too.

"Mm, I'm glad," Sherlock mumbled as he put his hands on my shoulders. I leaned back and looked up at him, grinning brightly as he rubbed my shoulders lightly, being carefully not to rub my back to roughly.

"What, you didn't like it?" John asked us at he looked over at the both of us and I shrugged at him. The moustache just made him look really old, it aged him considerably to the point where he just didn't look like our army doctor any more and maybe that had been his point.

"No. I prefer my doctors clean-shaven," Sherlock told John with a smile and I laughed and shook my head at that as John slowly walked across the living room.

"I'm sorry John, I just couldn't look at you with it," I told John with an apologetic look. I had tried for his sake, but I just couldn't look at him without wanting to giggle.

"That's not a sentence you hear every day!" John said as he sat down in his old chair and dumped his gloves onto the side table, grunting a little as he sat. There were healing cuts and gashes on the side of his head where it had been scratched by the foliage while he was thrashing about under the bonfire.

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked John in concern and I looked over John who didn't look too worse for wear. Besides the few cuts on the side of his head he didn't look too badly off. Good, I managed to do that right.

"Yeah, not bad. Bit ... smoked," John told us and I nodded, knowing that feeling. My lungs felt a bit off today and I was just breathing in the fresh air as much as possible.

"Well, smoking is bad for your health or at least that's what my doctor told me," I joked and John looked across to me frowning as I tilted my head to the side.

"How are you?" John asked me and I shrugged at him.

"Fine. Bit smoked too but it's a bit mild compared to some things," I told John and I watched as an unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes for just a second.

"Don't give me that," John told me and I frowned at him in confusion. "Mary told me you jumped off of a moving motorbike and jumped a fence to get to me," John continued as he looked down at my bandaged leg, the rest of my injuries covered by the arms of Sherlock's dressing gown. "Why would you do that?" John asked me and I looked over at him seriously.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked him, shaking my head at him slowly. "You were in danger. I did what I always did. Course I couldn't exactly throw shoes at a bonfire," I joked and Sherlock and John laughed softly with me before I sighed heavily. "John, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you or Sherlock," I told the army doctor honestly and Sherlock squeezed my shoulders. He knew I would walk through hell and back to get to them both. "I might have had two friends, but I didn't have a family and you were my family from the first day I moved into this flat. I protect those I care about," I told John and he sighed heavily.

"At the cost of yourself?" John asked me and I nodded at him. "Jesus Lexi," John said as he gestured to me. "You obviously got hurt a lot more than I did," John said and I shrugged at that. I wasn't too worried about it. Injuries could heal, friends couldn't come back to life we were proof of that, almost.

"Meretricious," I told John and the army doctor smiled slightly at the reference I made.

"And a Happy New Year," John told me and the three of us laughed before falling silent as we thought more about the events from the night before. "Last night – who did that? And why did they target me?" John asked us and I took a deep breath and blew it out.

"We don't know," Sherlock told John as I bit my lip.

"Joanna tried to trace the texts that Mary received, but they were all made from a prepaid phone which was shut off. We can't trace it," I told John as I stood up, waving Sherlock off as I started pacing the length of the living room. I was fine for now, I could sit later and he could take care of me.

"Is it someone trying to get to you two through me? Is it something to do with this terrorist thing you talked about?" John asked us and I shook my head at him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I don't know. I can't see the pattern. It's too nebulous," Sherlock told John before he walked past me, kissing the side of my head as he went over to look at his wall of information.

"It's not the terrorist thing. This is unconnected to it. I don't know who it is, but this happened after the news broke that Sherlock and I were alive," I said and Sherlock looked back at me and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"How did you work that out?" Sherlock asked me and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

"Okay if it was the terrorist why kidnap John unless it was to get to us? Sure, they could do that, but why? Why not attack one of us instead or the both of us? If we could be the ones to find them then they would want to take us out, not hurt John. And they sent Mary a message about where to find him because whoever it was knew she would come to us, but what if she hadn't realized it was nothing more than spam or hadn't looked at her message at all? They gave us enough time where we could save him. It was sort of like a test. And like I said, hotting? Why that word? Things are heating up sure, but things are hotting up isn't proper English, it's not even a proper word," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me in understanding as John's mouth fell open slightly. "No, whatever this was someone wanted to see what our reaction would be if John was taken. To see if we would still have the same reaction to him being in danger as we might have two years ago. This was a test for us. Like I told you last night, fire has an amazing way of exposing our priorities," I told Sherlock and I turned round as John coughed.

"You still do that then," John said as he gestured to me and I frowned at him in confusion. "You can still see so many different angles, figure out things like that," John explained and I shrugged at him.

"I've just always been able to figure out how someone else might think," I told John honestly. It was what made Sherlock and me different and what made us work well together. I saw what he didn't and vice versa he could see what I might miss.

"Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That's what's strange," Sherlock asked us as he turned back to his wall of information and I hummed in agreement with that as I walked over to stand next to him, looking at our wall.

""Give his life"?" John asked us and I nodded at him as I frowned and looked at each of our markers.

"According to Mycroft. There's an underground network planning an attack on London – that's all we know," Sherlock explained to John and he looked down and frowned for a moment before he turned and gestured to the paperwork on the wall. "These are our rats, John."

"Rats?" John asked us and I nodded at him.

"Our markers. They all agents, low-lifes, or people who might find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. Basically the accomplices or possible members of the cell, anyone who might do something corrupt. We're watching them for any sudden oddities, any deviation from they're normal activities. If one of them starts acting suspiciously, we'll know that something's up. Five of them are behaving perfectly normally, but the sixth ... well, he's given us some recent cause for concern," I told John as I pointed to one of the pictures on the wall.

"I know him, don't I?" John asked us, frowning as he squinted to look across the room and the photographs of our markers and I nodded at him. Our sixth man, the man who got into the disappearing Tube car. That sent up lots of red flags for us.

"Lord Moran, peer of the realm, Minister for Overseas Development. Pillar of the establishment," Sherlock told John who nodded at him in understanding.

"Yes!" John told us and I hummed at him.

"I've met him before. Mycroft introduced us at a government function. I didn't quite like him then and I still don't especially now that he's deviated from his normal routine. There was something just off about him and I happened to be right. Lord Moran has been working for North Korea since 1996," I told John and he looked at me in shock.

"What?" John scoffed and I inhaled sharply.

"Believe it or not, but out of all of our markers, I would peg him as the one to worry about," I told John as I looked across to Sherlock who nodded at me in agreement.

"He's the Big Rat. Rat Number One. And he's just done something very suspicious indeed," Sherlock told John before I walked over to the army doctor, tapping on my mobile before I handed it over to him.

"Here," I told the army doctor as I handed him my mobile. "Client came by yesterday morning, the news about us being back had barely been out for three hours. Thought he had something for us and he was right, course, he didn't know who to take it too. The police would have hardly believed him as Lord Moran is still accounted for. They would have said it was something wrong with the footage, but Sherlock and I know differently," I told John as I showed him the footage that Howard, our client, had emailed to me. "As you can see, he just disappears."

"Odd that," John said as he watched the footage again. "There's nowhere he could have gotten off at, no way he could have gotten off the train?" John asked us as he handed me back my mobile and I shook my head at him.

"Not according to the maps," Sherlock told John as he walked towards the both of us and John hummed as Sherlock sat in his chair and I walked over and sat on his lap. John got up and removed his coat as I watched the footage again.

"And according to our train expert there is no way he could have gotten off mid transit. Nearly impossible. I say nearly because well… I haven't tried yet," I told the boys before I looked back at Sherlock. "Next week, we can run an experiment," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before he sighed heavily.

"There's something – something, something I'm missing, something staring me in the face," Sherlock told me and he turned to look at the wall again before his phone beeped. He took it out of his pocket before flicking through the pictures our Homeless Network had sent him of Lord Moran walking along a road next to the Houses of Parliament. The sequence indicated that he had just come up from Westminster Tube station.

"Any idea who they are – this underground network?," John inquired as he got up and walked over to the dining table, sitting down and turning Sherlock's laptop around in front of him. "Intelligence must have a-a list of the most obvious ones," John continued but Sherlock smiled as he wrapped his arms around me and showed me the pictures closer, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Our rat's just come out of his den," Sherlock told me and I smiled as I took his phone from him and flicked through the pictures which I rapidly scanned through, converting them to memory and trying to pick out anything odd in the pictures.

"About time to," I mused as Sherlock pressed a kiss to the side of my head. I giggled and turned back to him, kissing him soundly as I knew what he was looking for before I pulled back as a thought crossed my mind. "Wait, Lock, he surfaced," I told Sherlock and he frowned at me in confusion. "He came out into the open again. It's tonight! Whatever is going to happen it's tonight," I told Sherlock and his eyes widened in surprise as he finally caught up to where I was. In his defence I was distracting him.

"Al-Qaeda; the IRA have been getting restless again – maybe they're gonna make an appearance ...," John said, not listening to us as he tried to continue figuring out what terrorist cell it might be.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! I've been an idiot – a blind idiot!" Sherlock said as I stood up so that he could get up. I sat back down in his chair as he started pacing the length of the room.

"What?" John asked Sherlock in confusion before he looked over at me for an answer.

"Oh, that's good. That could be brilliant," Sherlock told me before he turned and looked at me. "You're brilliant!" Sherlock told me as he hurried over to me and kissed me soundly before he went back to pacing the room.

"Well, I'll have to be brilliant more often," I told Sherlock cheekily and he shot a smirk at me.

"What are you two on about?" John asked us as he looked between Sherlock and me. I noticed how his gaze lingered on us as he frowned, no doubt noting how Sherlock and I were different with each other than we were before.

"Mycroft's intelligence – it's not nebulous at all. It's specific – incredibly specific," Sherlock said and I laughed at that.

"It's always incredibly specific, at least now it is. Joanna is most of Mycroft's intelligence," I told Sherlock and he hummed in agreement with me.

"What do you mean?" John asked us firmly and I gestured for Sherlock to explain to him before he got any more exasperated with us. I had forgotten how we normally explained things to John. Sherlock and I had just been in the habit of knowing what the other was thinking or saying even if we were vague with what we said to one another.

"Not an underground network, John. It's an Underground network," Sherlock told John who nodded at us.

"Right…," John said slowly before he shook his head. "What?" John asked us and I grinned at him.

"Specifically, it is an Underground network. The London Underground," I told John as Sherlock grinned. It was a rather brilliant idea and might never have been caught if not for our client Howard who noticed something a bit odd.

"Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can't see it even when it's staring you in the face," Sherlock told John as he leaned over him and brought up the Tube footage of Lord Moran getting into the train at Westminster on his laptop and replayed it. "Look – seven carriages leave Westminster...," Sherlock said as I stood up and walked over to him.

"Cars," I corrected him and he looked back at me in exasperation.

"Cars! What does it matter?" Sherlock asked me and I smirked at me.

"The same way it matters that it is Suzhou not Hangzhou," I told Sherlock before I pointed as the footage switched to show the next station. "Only six cars arrived at St. James's Park," I told the boys. There had been something, some little feeling tickling away in the back of my brain when I first watched the footage, but I couldn't figure it out then. It made sense now. That was my brain realizing what I consciously didn't.

"But that's ... I ... it's-it's impossible," John said and I smiled at him.

"A bit unlikely maybe, but never impossible. Lord Moran wasn't the only one to disappear, the entire Tube compartment did as well. They're literally using an underground network only it's the Underground Network," I told John and Sherlock nodded at me in agreement.

"The driver must have diverted the train and then detached the last carriage," Sherlock told me and I pointed at him with a sly grin.

"And we know that the driver was paid off. Quite a sum too. Paid for his silence. Joanna is already finding him. I'm sure Mycroft would love to question him," I said and Sherlock snorted at me. I was nothing if not thorough.

"Detached it where?! You said there was nothing between those stations," John asked us and I nodded at that. There was nothing between the two stations at least nothing that never made it onto the maps.

"Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth," Sherlock told John and I grinned at him fondly as he pointed at the screen. "That carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere," Sherlock said as I tried to put all the pieces together.

"But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?" John asked us and I brought my mobile out and scrolled through my map system quickly, using some of the high tech systems that Joanna had connected me to around the city. I could now tap into every single CCTV camera in the city and manipulate it so I could view every inch of the city in real time.

"The car vanished between St. James's Park and Westminster, so does Lord Moran. Why? Why does he vanish? What does he have a hand in?" I asked Sherlock and he turned to me quickly as I held up my phone. "There is one thing that lies between those two stations," I told Sherlock and John looked between the two of us as Sherlock and I shared a long look.

"Last night. You asked Joanna for the date. She told you, that's how you worked out where John was first," Sherlock said as he finally got it and I nodded at him.

"Parliament lies between St. James's Park and Westminster and today is Guy Fawkes day," I told the boys and John's face paled as I lowered my mobile and bit the inside of my cheek.

"... My God," John breathed in horror as Sherlock looked at our information wall and walked slowly towards it.

"Lord Moran – he's a peer of the realm. Normally he'd sit in the House. Tonight there's an all-night sitting to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill," Sherlock said and he stopped in front of the sofa and smiled. "But he won't be there. Not tonight," Sherlock said as he looked down at John. "Not the fifth of November."

""Remember, remember,"" John recited and I nodded at him before continuing with the poem.

"Remember, remember! The fifth of November, the Gunpowder treason and plot; I know of no reason why the Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot! Guy Fawkes and his companions did the scheme contrive, to blow the King and Parliament all up alive. Threescore barrels, laid below, to prove old England's overthrow," I recited and the boys looked at me, John looking shocked and Sherlock looking very proud at me. "Why would a tube car disappear? Why detach it in the first place?" I asked the boys, looking between the both of them and Sherlock smiled at me, knowing that I had figured it out. He loved when I explained things which was odd because I remembered a time on our first case together when he fought to get the first deductions in so I wouldn't show him up. "Gunpowder treason and plot. Lord Moran intends to turn the tube car into a bomb right under Parliament. Threescore barrels, laid below, to prove old England's overthrow. Bit ironic, a terrorist attack on the night Parliament is supposed to vote on the new anti-terrorism Bill. What better way to cause fear and panic?" I asked the boys before we got down to work. We needed to know what lay between those two stations and who better to tell us than our train expert. I quickly went back to our room and changed into a pair of jeans and a thick jumper before I joined the boys in the kitchen where we had relocated. I got Howard Shilcott, our client, up on a Skype call on Sherlock's laptop as the three of us frantically searched through maps and papers on the kitchen table. Howard was sitting in his living room wearing his bobble hat and I looked at him as I asked about any side tunnels, anything the possibly could have been between the two stations. The Tube car didn't disappear so it had to be somewhere.

"There's nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna, I told you. No sidings, no ghost stations," Howard told us and I shook my head at him as Sherlock turned the laptop around so that John could see the screen.

"There has to be. Check again," Sherlock told Howard and he leaned off screen as John looked through a book.

"Howard, anything at all, anything that might have been started and never finished. Projects like those happen all the time and they never get put on the maps. Hardly anyone knows about them," I told the man and he came back on screen to nod ad me before he leaned off screen again.

"Look – this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand ...," John told us and I shook my head at that. That wasn't what we were looking for but he was right. The London Underground was made up of a big mess of old and new stuff.

"No, it's none of those. We've accounted for those," Sherlock told John as he looked closer at an old map. "St Margaret's Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street ...," Sherlock muttered as I played around with my mobile. I was currently hacking into records to see if there might be something that was never officially made public about the Underground.

"Hang on, hang on. Lexi was right!" Howard told us suddenly as he took the pom pom that he had been chewing out of his mouth. I grimaced slightly, remembering how that had factored into our game of deductions. "Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr. Holmes," Howard said as he leaned off screen. "There is something. I knew it rang a bell. Where is it?" Howard muttered as he came back into view. "There was a station down there."

"Well, why isn't it on the maps?" John asked Howard in confusion and the man gestured to me.

"'Cause it was closed before it ever opened. Like Lexi said, something that was started but never finished," Howard said, looking at me in awe and I looked at Sherlock who was smiling at me brightly.

"You are brilliant," Sherlock whispered into my ear and I shivered before looking up at him and smiling at him fondly.

"What?" John asked Howard who held up a book to the camera to show us the relevant page.

"They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface," Howard told us grinning as he pointed to the appropriate spot on the page.

"Yup, here too. Official records. Sealed, but I unsealed them. Legal disputes because of how close it was to Parliament, money, government. Basically your typical squabbling," I told the boys before I looked at Howard. "Good find," I complimented him and he looked very shocked to receive my praise. Sherlock straightened up as I showed him my mobile screen now with the added marker of where the station was located on the rail line.

"It's right underneath the Palace of Westminster," Sherlock said and I nodded at him before switching off my mobile and putting it in my back pocket.

"And so what's down there, you said a bomb?" John asked us as Sherlock and I started walking away. We grabbed our coats and scarves and hurried to put them on as we already started heading down the stairs. "Oh ...," John said behind us and he joined us downstairs moments later. I looked over at Sherlock as he hailed us a cab and smirked at him. He raised his eyebrow at me before he caught on to what I was thinking.

"The game is on!" Sherlock said as the cab slowed down to the curb and we both popped the collars on our coats before we slid into the back of the cab. John sighed once in exasperation before he slid into the cab next to us but when I looked over at him as the cab pulled away from the curbing, I saw the hint of a smile playing around his lips just like old times. And this was it, like it should be, Lexi MacKenna, soon to be Holmes if I had anything to say about it, and her Baker Street Boys against the world.


	90. Bombs, Apologies, and the Truth

**Two updates in one day? Yes! And the Sign of 3 beings on Tuesday. This is the longest chapter of The Empty Hearse. Thank Marci for it. Wow, I kind of sorta hurt today so I am going to go and watch TV and think of my Goldfish chapters and you are all going to read to conclusion of this case. Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty Eight- Bombs, Apologies, and the Truth<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock, John, and I walked briskly along the road near the Houses of Parliament and headed to the stairs leading down into Westminster station. They walked across the concourse, past the fangirls, through the ticket barriers and along the corridors. I checked my mobile as we walked and I showed it to Sherlock before grinning and the consulting detective smirked at me.

"So it's a bomb, then? A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb," John asked us as we walked and I looked back at him and nodded.

"The tube car yes," I told John and he rolled his eyes at me in exasperation though there was a slight hint of a smirk on his face.

"Must be," Sherlock nodded at John as he flicked his gaze over at me.

"Right," John sighed and he took his gloves off before pulling his mobile from his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked him as he glance over to our army doctor.

"Calling the police," John told us and I shook my head at him quickly.

"What?" Sherlock frowned as he turned to John. "No!" Sherlock told John quickly.

"Not a good idea," I told John honestly. I had many reasons I could list as to why that was a bad idea.

"Sherlock, Lexi, this isn't a game. They need to evacuate Parliament," John told us in exasperation and I sighed at that and rolled my eyes. Same old John, always wanting to do the right thing.

"They'll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient," Sherlock told John as we stopped at a locked maintenance entrance. Sherlock reached into his coat and took out a crowbar and started to force the gate open.

"And illegal," John quipped and I chuckled at that.

"Like I've told you before. Most things that are fun are generally illegal. " I told John as the gate opened and we stepped inside. Sherlock pulled the gate closed behind us and we took our torches and started to walk down into the maintenance tunnels. I looked back and saw that John was checking his phone which would have read "NO SERVICE" in these tunnels.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked John without even turning around.

"Coming," John sighed as he put his mobile away.

"John you tell them they have to evacuate Parliament and it's going to cause panic. That's what the terrorist want," I told John as we continued onwards. Sherlock reached back and took my hand, carefully leading me through the tunnels. We knew nearly every inch of the tunnels. There really wasn't a part of London that we didn't know about. The narrow tunnels and walkways were easy to get around, but the steep metal ladders were a little harder for me to climb down with my knee. Sherlock climbed down first before he had me lower myself down as far as I could go. He would then catch me and lower me down to my feet. Finally we made it to the platform of Sumatra Road Station. The platform was here but nothing else. Sherlock shined his torch along the length of the track but there was no sign of a train.

"Joanna's shut down the rail for the next half an hour. That'll give us enough time to do what we have to," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me thankfully.

"I don't understand," Sherlock told me as we looked around the station.

"Well, that's a first!" John remarked and I snorted and rolled my eyes at him.

"Watch it Watson," I told John with a smirk and he smirked back at me as I looked around the station again. Hmm, no traces of the car anywhere. Strange.

"There's nowhere else it could be," Sherlock said as we turned and faced the track. Sherlock brought his hands up to either side of his head, screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. I closed my eyes and saw myself in the missing Tube car. I was sitting next to Sherlock and at the far end of the car smoke came out from under the bottom of the cab and poured towards us. We turned our heads to look and a fireball ignited behind the smoke and then raced along the carriage, engulfing our position and continuing onwards. We relocated to a difference location in the tunnel about a hundred yards away from the front of the carriage. The inferno billowed out of the carriage towards is but just before it reached us it was sucked up a large open vent in the tunnel's roof. At ground level above the Tube line, heated gas shimmered as it was forced through various air vents inside the Houses of Parliament. Outside, the perspective shifted to the opposite side of the River Thames and the entire Palace of Westminster went up in a massive explosion. Sherlock and I snapped our eyes open and I we shared a long look. "Oh!" Sherlock said and I nodded at him before Sherlock turned to the left and held me hand as we raced to the end of the platform.

"What?" John asked as he chased after us and Sherlock jumped carefully off the end of the platform onto the tracks. "Hang on. Sherlock?" John asked him as I stood, trying to figure out how I would get down there.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he turned back to us and I could see him thinking the same thing.

"That's ... Isn't it live?" John asked Sherlock and I nodded at him. The rail was currently still active.

"Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails," Sherlock told John before he looked over at me, still thinking. I gestured to John and then at him. I could make it down if both of them could catch me.

"'Course, yeah! Avoid the rails. Great!" John said sarcastically before he jumped down onto the tracks. He looked back at me and frowned in confusion. "Lexi, are you coming?" John asked me and I nodded at him.

"Yeah, I just need a hand. Kind of can't jump," I told John and he looked down at my knee sheepishly.

"We'll catch you," Sherlock assured me and I nodded at him before taking a few steps back and running forward in a leap of faith. Sherlock and John caught me and lowered me to my feet carefully.

"Well, I'm not doing that again," I told John and Sherlock and Sherlock chuckled and pointed ahead of us. I groaned as my knee wanted to give out. I had bruised the bone more than a bit when I fell onto the road. Sherlock bent down and gestured for me to climb onto his back. I laughed before climbing on and he stood up straight.

"This way," Sherlock told John as he started walking away along the rails. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek as John followed behind us.

"You sure?" John asked us and I would have looked back at him if leaning wouldn't have affected Sherlock as well.

"Sure," Sherlock told him. We didn't have to walk far before the missing carriage was revealed partway around a gentle bend.

"Well look at that," I told the boys with a laugh as we continued on. Sherlock looked up and I gaze upwards with him to see the large open vent I had seen in my mind. I shined my torch up into it carefully.

"John," Sherlock said before John hummed questioningly. We stopped for a moment and John shined his torch up into the vent as well as I realized that there were several small explosive devices attached to the sides of the vent.

"Demolition charges," John said and I nodded as I looked over at the army doctor, careful not to jostle Sherlock who was already probably hurting his back by carrying me.

"Well, looks like someone took the poem too literally," I told John as I took one more look up into the vent. "Lucky for us though," I said before we continued towards the carriage, John ducking down and shining his light underneath and around it as we approached. He blew out a long breath as we get closer and again he squatted down to check the underside while Sherlock and I looked along the side. Sherlock set me down carefully on my feet before opening the door to the driver's cab and he and John helped me climb in before we walked carefully through the opposite door into the carriage itself. Slowly we worked our way along it, looking at every seat, every corner, shining our torches along the ceiling and the floor. At the second set of side doors, Sherlock slowed down, paying particular attention to something and he gestured for me to come over and take a look as John progressed on to the very end.

"It's empty. There's nothing," John said and I shook my head as I frowned. There were a pair of intertwined black and red cables strung along the wall and fed down into the back of one of the seats.

"Isn't there?" Sherlock asked John as I pulled my glasses from my coat pocket and slid them on. John turned back to us and pointed his torch at where Sherlock was gently lifting the cushion, bending low to shine his light underneath. Sherlock lifted his head and looked round at him as I breathed out a long breath. Well, fuck. "This is the bomb," Sherlock told John as I carefully bent down to peer at the underside of the seat.

"What?" John asked him as Sherlock stood up and lifted the cushion all the way up. The cavity underneath was full of wired-up explosives. I carefully knelt down next to Sherlock and peered at it, trying to wrack my brains for anything the might help us in this situation.

"The car isn't carrying the explosives John. The car is quite literally the bomb," I told John as I followed the wires which ran under the next seat. I stood up and the three of us worked our way along the carriage, lifting other cushions at random. Each had an identical explosive device under it. "Well," I said and both boys turned to look at me. "That's a little more than the three barrels originally used," I told them and Sherlock and John looked back at me as I bit my lip. This was very not good.

While John continued lifting seat cushions, Sherlock and I looked around the carriage and then took a few steps along the aisle before I frowned when I hear done of the panels make a noise. I looked down, noticing that the panel I was standing on was loose. I looked at Sherlock and tested it before he came over and tested it as well. As John looked down at the latest batch of explosives, Sherlock took his gloves off and handed them to me before he bent to the panel, forcing his fingers into the gap and lifting it. Underneath was what could only be described as the 'mother bomb' – a device massively larger than the ones under the cushions and the one that would detonate first before setting of the others. While John took several deep nervous breaths, Sherlock propped the panel up against the wall of the train. We looked down at the massive device and then John looked up at Sherlock and me.

"We need bomb disposal," John breathed and I hummed in agreement. Normally, yes, that would be a really good things to have at this point.

"There's not going to be time for that even if I could get a hold of Joanna right now. By the time they were able to reach us this carriage will have already gone up," I told John as I looked around it, looking at all of the wires.

"So what do we do?" John asked us frantically and I shrugged at him.

"I have no idea," Sherlock breathed after a brief pause and John looked at me.

"Umm, get back to me on that," I told John as I tried to work it out. "Computers yes, bombs no," I told them as I knelt down next to where Sherlock was standing and looked over the works of the bombs. It was very basic. Time piece on the front which was currently frozen at 2:30.

"Well, think of something," John told us sternly and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Why d'you think we know what to do?" Sherlock asked John curiously and I closed my eyes, thinking. Okay we had never run across bombs in our travels, Sure, I knew basics, Joanna had taught me that but this was a bit more advanced than I might be qualified for.

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna! You're as clever as it gets!" John shouted at us in exasperation and I gestured at him and waved my hands around.

"Doesn't mean we know how to defuse a giant bomb!" I told John in exasperation. "It's not really the sort of thing we have to do often in our line of work!" I told John before I breathed out shortly. "What about you?" I asked the army doctor, gesturing to the bomb.

"I wasn't in bomb disposal. I'm a bloody doctor!" John shouted back at me and I raised my hands skyward.

"And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!" Sherlock said back angrily pointing his torch at him.

"Boys!" I shouted, getting their attention. "This isn't helping matters. Let's focus on the massive bomb sitting in front of us," I told them and they nodded, John looking down at the countdown clock.

"Can't-can't we rip the timer off, or something?" John asked us and I shook my head as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"That would set it off," Sherlock told John and I nodded at him in agreement.

"And we would all blow up so no," I added as I looked down at the bomb and tilted my head thoughtfully.

"You see? You know things," John told us and Sherlock looked away and sighed as I snorted and rolled my eyes. Suddenly all the lights came on in the carriage and the countdown clock on the mother bomb started to tick down. The boys looked around in shock and John groaned as I kept my cool. Stressful situations, ah, lovely. Squeaky bum time!

"Er ...," Sherlock said awkwardly as I looked at all of the wires. Black and red wires. Why couldn't they be blue and red? They were always blue and red.

"My God!" John said, breathing heavily and Sherlock paced away from him.

"Er ...," Sherlock said again as he tried to figure it out.

"Why didn't you call the police?!" John asked us angrily and I looked up at him and gave him a pointed look.

"Not helping John," I told him before I went back to focusing in on the bomb.

"Please just ...," Sherlock told John and I sighed. This wasn't fixing anything. We should be working together, not fighting.

"Why do you never call the police?" John asked us furiously and I gritted my teeth as I knelt closer to the bomb.

"Well, it's no use now!" Sherlock shouted back at him and I looked up at them as the bomb ticked down to 2:15.

"So you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police," John said angrily and he turned away for a moment, then turned back again. Sherlock looked at him as I looked up. I guess it was down to me right now.

"Go, John," Sherlock told John as he pointed towards the driver's cab. He reached down and pulled me to my feet despite my protests. "You too Lexi go now," Sherlock told me and I looked at him furiously.

"There's no point now, is there, because there's not enough time to get away; and if we don't do this ...," John said as he gestured down to the mother bomb. "...other people will die!" John finished in a shout and I smacked Sherlock in the arm roughly as the bomb ticked down to 1:57.

"How dare you suggest that I leave you!" I shouted as I smacked Sherlock roughly again and he caught my hands as I breathed heavily. "We made a promise to each other on that rooftop," I told Sherlock and John looked up sharply at my mention of that. "Together or not at all! I'm not leaving you, never again," I told Sherlock before I pulled him in for a quick kiss. When we broke apart, Sherlock nodded at me before he pressed his forehead against mine. We looked back down and John checked the clock which had just ticked past 1:43. John looked up and pointed at the both of us sharply.

"Mind Palace," John told us and Sherlock hummed questioningly as I frowned in confusion. "Use your Mind Palaces," John ordered us and I raised my eyebrow at him pointedly.

"How will that help?" Sherlock asked John in exasperation.

"You two have salted away every fact under the sun!"

"Oh, and you think we've just got "How To Defuse A Bomb" tucked away in there somewhere?" Sherlock asked John as he made wild hand gestures and I inhaled sharply.

"Yes!" John shouted back to us and Sherlock thought about it for a second.

"Maybe," Sherlock told him and he brought his fingers up to the sides of his face and screwed his eyes shut. I closed my eyes and started running through my Mind Palace, running past Sherlock and John who hurried after me as I made my way back to the basic filing room. I opened the drawers and started flicking through them quickly.

"Think," John said intensely as I flung useless information around. "Think. Please think," John pleaded softly and Sherlock groaned beside me. "Think!" John shouted and I opened my eyes quickly as Sherlock's hands came away from his face and flailed around, while his eyes remain closed and he continued to make groaning noises. John closed his eyes, shaking his head as the noises get louder and finally Sherlock let out a cry and opened his eyes. He breathed heavily for a moment, then he lowered his hands and looked at John with a blank but apologetic look on his face. John stared at him in disbelief. While my eyes were open I was still in my Mind Palace and I was hurriedly going through everything I had seen and heard in the last thirty four years of my life. "Oh my God," John breathed as he turned away. Sherlock tore his scarf from around his neck and doubled over, burying his head in his hands, still making incoherent groaning noises. He dropped to his knees next to the bomb while John wandered a little way down the carriage. My eyes opened fully and I was concentrating on the room again. I quickly dropped to my knees despite the pain as John breathed in horror. "This is it." Sherlock flailed uselessly over the bomb and I grabbed his hands, stilling his movements. He looked up at me helplessly and I looked at him rather calmly. He quirked his eyebrow questioningly and I nodded at him before bending down and doing what I needed to which involved getting a pair of wire cutters out of Sherlock's tool kit. In front of us John stopped and stared into space. "Oh my God," John said softly as I reached into the bomb, routing around.

"Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er ...," Sherlock said frantically as the bomb reached 1:29. John turned back towards us as I sat back and Shook my head mournfully as Sherlock raised his head. "I'm sorry," Sherlock told John softly. John screwed his eyes closed for a moment, then looked at him again.

"What?" John asked us as I shook my head sadly and grabbed Sherlock's hand, clutching it tightly as he pulled me closer to him.

"We can't ... we can't do it, John. We don't know how," Sherlock told John softly, his eyes starting to fill with tears as we both straightened up on our knees and Sherlock held me closely to him. "Forgive us?" Sherlock pleaded with the army doctor.

"What?" John asked us again tightly, furiously.

"Please, John, forgive us ... for all the hurt that we caused you," Sherlock pleaded as he brought his arm from around me and folded his hands up into a praying position. I looked at John, a tear slipping down my cheek as I looked at him sadly.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick," John said waving a finger at us and I shook my head as Sherlock told him that it wasn't. "Another one of your bloody tricks," John said angrily and I shook my head again.

"It isn't John, we can't…we can't do it. Please, please forgive us. We're so sorry for everything," I told John earnestly as Sherlock wrapped his arm tightly around me again.

"You're just trying to make me say something nice," John said and Sherlock and I chuckled together briefly.

"Not this time," Sherlock and I told John in unison.

"It's just to make you two look good even though you behaved like ...," John said trailing off as he grimaced, fighting back tears, and turned away as he tried to steady his breathing. Sherlock moved away from the bomb and sat on the edge of one of the nearby seats, pulling me up with him and sitting me on his knee. I bit back the cry of pain as my knee was jostled. I fell on it a lot harder than I thought I did. John gripped one of the handrails, looking down at the floor, then stamped his foot furiously. His voice was low but savage when he spoke again. "I wanted you not to be dead," John told us and I nodded at him through my tears.

"Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for," Sherlock told John who sighed at us. "If we hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and ...," Sherlock continued as John bared his teeth and turned away from us, shaking his head. "...you'd still have a future ... with Mary."

"Yeah. I know," John said, turning and pointing at us. He grimaced and turned away again. Sherlock clenched his fist against his mouth, then wiped his nose, his face full of despair as I reached up and stroked his cheek comfortingly. He grasped my hand in his and held it to his lips as his grip around my waist tightened so that he was hugging me. Finally John turned back to the both of us.

"Look, I find it difficult," John told us, his voice low and tight and Sherlock nodded, lowering his head a bit. "I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."

"We know," Sherlock told him, looking up as I nodded, tears dripping off my chin.

"It always has been but you were always brilliant," I told John and he blew out a breath, lowering his head, then he straightened up and looked at Sherlock and me.

"You were the best and the wisest man and woman ...," John said, his voice not much more than a whisper and he sniffed deeply before continuing. "...that I have ever known," John finished and Sherlock and I looked at him, eyes wide and tear filled in shock. John sighed, lowering his head again before raising it once more. "Yes, of course I forgive you two. How could I not after reading your journal Lexi, knowing what you two went through," John told us and Sherlock and I gazed back at him. John met our eyes for a moment, then he took in a deep breath through his nose, closed his eyes, raised his head, and braced himself for death.

**Third Person POV**

Sherlock and Lexi were sitting on a sofa in Anderson's flat and Anderson had set up a video camera in front of them. Lexi was quite comfortable sitting tucked against Sherlock's side and he stared directly into the camera while she ignored it completely and played with the fingers of the hand that wasn't wrapped tightly around her waist. Anderson was the one who created the Empty Hearse as the detectives had figured out and even he didn't know just how far it had spread across the world or just how much influence it had abroad. The Empty Hearse had been both a support and a hindrance to the two detectives in the last few months. Anderson of course asked them the one question that everyone wanted answered, how was it done? They agreed to tell him which was why Sherlock was now explaining what happened to them in full detail.

"The criminal network Moriarty headed was vast. Its roots were everywhere like a cancer, so we came up with a plan," Sherlock told Anderson as Lexi looked up at him and smiled fondly at Sherlock. He flicked his gaze down to her for a moment and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly before he looked back at the camera, his slight smile still on his face. "Mycroft fed Moriarty information about us. Moriarty in turn gave us hints – just hints – as to the extent of his web. We let him go...because it was important to let him believe he had the upper hand. And then we sat back and watched Moriarty destroy our reputation bit by bit," Sherlock continued as Lexi looked over at the camera and shrugged. "We had to make him believe he'd beaten us, utterly defeated us, and then he'd show his hand. There were thirteen likely scenarios once we were up on that roof. Each of them were rigorously worked out and given a code name. It wasn't just our reputation that Moriarty needed to bury – we had to die," Sherlock said before he looked down at Lexi.

**Flashback **

_"Five bullets; five gunmen; five victims. There's no stopping them now," Moriarty told us, shaking his head and Sherlock furiously pulled him back upwards to safety. Moriarty stared into his face as I slid my hand into Sherlock's free one now that he only held onto Moriarty with one hand. "Unless my people see you two jump," Moriarty told us and Sherlock gazed past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Moriarty shook himself free of Sherlock's grasp and smiled triumphantly. I glared at Moriarty, gritting my teeth angrily. This was his plan all along. "You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me…," Moriarty said, flashing his smirk at me at that. "…but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only five friends in the world will die ... unless ..." Moriarty said getting in our faces and adding bite to the word unless. He trailed off as he watched us closely._

_"...unless we kill ourselves – complete your story," Sherlock finished for him, looking beyond him as I looked out over London as well. Moriarty nodded, smiling ecstatically at us. _

_"You've gotta admit that's sexier," Moriarty told us, making a face as he did a wild arm gesture and I looked up at Sherlock, biting my lip slightly._

_"And we die in disgrace," Sherlock said, his gaze distant and lost. _

_"Of course. That's the point of this," Moriarty told us in a matter of fact tone. He looked over the side and I leaned just a bit and saw that someone had stopped at the benches near the bus stop below us, and several other people were in the vicinity. "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," Moriarty told us and he rolled his head from side to side on his neck. "Go on," Moriarty told us and we slowly stepped past him and up onto the ledge together. Sherlock's hold on my hand tightened as we stepped up together. "I told you how this ends," Moriarty told us as Sherlock's breathing became shakier as we looked down. I inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering my fear of heights. It never got to me before when I was moving quickly over roof tops. When I was chasing a criminal I had purpose but now I was just staring down at the pavement. "Your deaths are the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it," Moriarty told us, and he turned his head to look up at Sherlock and I expectantly. Sherlock blinked anxiously as I brought by other hand up and clutched his arm tightly._

**End of Flashback**

"But the one thing we didn't anticipate was just how far Moriarty was prepared to go. I suppose that was obvious, given our first meeting at the swimming pool – his death wish. Of course he certainly had a death wish after kidnapping Lexi," Sherlock said and Lexi laughed at that as Sherlock smirked down at her. "We knew we didn't have long. I contacted my brother; set the wheels in motion," Sherlock said as he and Lexi flashed back to the rooftop. Sherlock typed a single word, LAZARUS, into his phone and sent the message. "And then everyone got to work," Sherlock continued as Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly.

**Flashback**

_On the ground, a group of men carried a giant airbag, currently deflated, out into the street. Molly looked out of the window while Sherlock and Lexi stepped up onto the ledge. Beside the ambulance station, on the other side to where John would later stand, our team was rolling out the airbag. Molly closed her eyes briefly, then looked upwards. Standing a short distance away from the hospital, Liz looked up towards the roof awaiting our signal. John's taxi continued on its way to the hospital. As the airbag team continued their work, other people were standing and waiting. One of them had a stethoscope around his neck. Liz looked around and saw the man on the cycle waiting nearby, one foot on a pedal and ready to go. A few feet away a second cyclist pushed his bike into position. The first cyclist had an earpiece in his ear, and all of the others did too. A faint female voice could be heard, relaying instructions through the earpieces. John's taxi turned into the road near the ambulance station and a large group of men came around the corner behind it. The taxi pulled up and Sherlock took his phone from his pocket and read the reply to his earlier text:_

**_LAZARUS IS GO_**

_John got out of the taxi and headed towards the hospital, answering Sherlock's phone call as he walked. Unseen by John, whose view was blocked by the ambulance station, the truck full of rubbish bags was in position by the bus stop, several people were waiting by the wall of the ambulance station, and the airbag was inflating at the other side of the station._

_"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," Sherlock told John who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head repeatedly. _

_"No. All right, stop it now," John told them as he started to walk towards the hospital entrance, determined to go and stop them before they did anything drastic. _

_"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock told John urgently and John stopped and backed up, holding his hand up to Sherlock and Lexi in capitulation._

_"All right," John told them, doing whatever he could to keep them from moving. Breathing rapidly, Sherlock had his own hand stretched out towards his friend, Lexi taking the phone from him in her free hand. _

_"Keep your eyes fixed on us," Sherlock told him, his voice becoming frantic. "Please, will you do this for us?" Sherlock asked him. _

_"John please," Lexi pleaded with him. "For us, just keep your eyes on us," Lexi said quickly, her voice trembling. _

**End of Flashback **

"It was vital that John stayed just where we put him. That way, his view was blocked by the ambulance station," Sherlock told Anderson as Lexi looked up at him knowingly. They had planned everything, an elaborate plan with many different parts working together. Everything hinged upon John staying where they needed him to while their people moved into position.

**Flashback**

_"This phone call – it's, er ... it's our note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked him and John shook his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he was beginning to understand hit him, then he raised it again, his voice shaky._

_"Leave a note when?" John asked them his voice broken. _

_"Goodbye, John," Sherlock and Lexi told him in unison their voices both calm. _

_"No. Don't," John told them urgently, shaking his head. Sherlock and Lexi gazed down at John for several seconds before Lexi lowered her arm and dropped the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of themselves. John lowered his own phone and screamed upwards. "No. SHERLOCK! LEXI!" John screamed as he watched Sherlock and Lexi turn towards each other. They wrapped their arms around each other before they pitched sideways off of the roof together, and plummeted towards the ground, clinging to each other. Inside the building, Molly gasped as they fell past her window. From John's point of view the last thirty feet or so of the fall was blocked from his view by the station. Unseen by him, Sherlock and Lexi were plunging towards the airbag, twisting as they went so that they would fall on their backs, but keeping a tight hold on each other so that their weight would hit in the same area._

**End of Flashback **

"We needed to hit the airbag – which we did," Sherlock told Anderson as they flashed back to the fall. They turned on their backs in mid-air and made a perfect landing in the centre of the airbag. Immediately everyone else sprang into action, starting to run into position. "Speed was paramount," Sherlock continued thoughtfully. Sherlock and Lexi scrambled towards the edge of the airbag while their team pushed the bag down to help them get off of it quickly. "The airbag needed to be got out of the way just as John cleared the station," Sherlock said as they went through the rest of the plan. The moment they were on the ground the team picked up the airbag and started to run towards the left-hand side of the station. John started to run along the right-hand side of the station as more extras ran into position. "But we needed him to see two bodies," Sherlock told Anderson who was watching them closely. Inside the hospital, two bodies were lying on stretchers, one dressed in a Belstaff coat and a blue scarf and the other dressed in a grey coat and a green plaid scarf. Molly and four male team members hauled the bodies up and shoved them out of the open window. The bodies impacted the ground directly below where Sherlock and Lexi fell. "That's where Molly came in and where Liz helped her," Sherlock said simply. Sherlock and Lexi ran with the airbag team as they headed around the left side of the station. On the other side of the station, the cyclist was pedalling after John. "Like figures on a weather clock, we went one way, John went the other." John ran to the corner of the station, then slowed down and stopped in the middle of the road as he got his first glimpse of the still figures lying on the pavement. The extras were already starting to gather around them, and the truck drove away. "Then our well-timed cyclist … put John briefly out of action ...giving us time to switch places with the corpses on the pavement," Sherlock told Anderson while the two flashed back to John getting hit and crashing to the ground while the bodies were hauled out before they replaced them, two members of their team emptying blood bags around their heads while two others squeezed blood onto their faces. "The rest was just window dressing," Sherlock said and as the last few touches were put on us, John grimaced in pain and rolled onto his side and looked across to the pavement. "And one final touch ...a squash ball under the armpit," Sherlock told Anderson. On the ground the two detectives had reached into their pockets and pulled out squash balls one of which they had been playing with earlier and they reached inside their shirts and pushed the balls under their arms.

"If you apply enough pressure the ball will momentarily cut off the pulse," Lexi explained to Anderson. Slowly John hauled himself to his feet and stumbled across the road, while one of the extras checked Sherlock and Lexi's wrists to make sure there was no pulse. John finally reached the crowd which was when the hardest part of the plan started.

**Flashback **

_"Sherlock, Lexi, Sherlock, Lexi...," John repeated in a whisper as he reached the crowd. "I'm a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please," John said, his voice unsteady as some of the crowd tried to hold him back but he pushed through them. "No, they're my friends. They're my friends. Please," John told them as he reached down to their joined hands, Lexi's left hand onto of Sherlock's her ring shining even in the low lighting. He took a hold of their wrists, searching for a pulse. A woman peeled his fingers off and she and another person pulled him away. As he reached towards his friends again, more medics arrives with two wheeled stretchers. "Please, let me just ..." John said frantically but the impact of the shock and the bang on his head began to take effect and his knees gave out. As he slumped to the floor supported by a couple of onlookers, four people gently rolled Sherlock and Lexi onto their backs revealing their blood stained faces and wide staring eyes. John groaned in utter despair. "Nggh, Jesus, no," John said as he tried to stand but sank back again. "God, no," John said and as the onlookers supported him a team of eight people lifted Sherlock and Lexi's bodies onto the stretchers and then rapidly wheeled them away into the hospital. John stared after it, his face blank and uncomprehending. He finally managed to get to his feet and shake off his helpers, staring blindly in the direction that his friends' bodies were taken._

**End of Flashback**

In front of the video camera, Sherlock looked dispassionately into the lens as Lexi sat up straighter and moved her hands to her lap, playing with her fingers as Sherlock rubbed her arm slowly. Anderson was sitting on a chair on the other side of the camera watching them closely in excitement.

"Everything was anticipated; every eventuality allowed for. It worked ...," Sherlock told Anderson, pausing as he smiled slightly. "... perfectly."

"Molly? Molly Hooper? She was in on it?" Anderson asked them in shock and Lexi nodded at him with a smirk.

"Yes. You remember the little girl who was abducted by Moriarty? You assumed she reacted like that because we were her kidnappers. But we deduced Moriarty must have found someone who looked very like us to plant suspicion, and that that man and woman – whoever they were – had to be got out of the way as soon as their usefulness ended. That meant there were two corpses in a morgue somewhere that looked just like Lexi and me," Sherlock explained to Anderson as Lexi looked up at Sherlock fondly.

"Clever," Anderson nodded and Lexi grinned at him. Odd that. She remembered a time when he insulted their intelligence.

"Molly found the bodies. Liz provided the other one that ended up in her morgue and both women faked the records while we provided the other coats. We've got lots of coats," Sherlock told Anderson and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes at that.

"And what about the sniper aiming at John?" Anderson asked them and Lexi pointed at him, glad that he had asked questions about that. It would seem that he observed a lot more now that he was studying their methods.

"Mycroft's men intervened before he could even consider taking the shot. He was invited to reconsider and he was smart enough to accept the offer," Lexi told Anderson who nodded again in understanding before he looked at Sherlock next.

"And your homeless network?" Anderson asked Sherlock and Lexi found that she was rather impressed by him. He was a lot more observant than he had been two years ago. He was also a lot less arrogant. Lexi could tell that he honestly felt rather bad for his involvement in what he thought was their suicides.

"As I explained, the whole street was closed off ...," Sherlock smiled. "...like a scene from a play," Sherlock continued and Anderson looked at them thoughtfully. "Neat, don't you think?" Sherlock asked him and Anderson looked off to the side and hummed a bit. "What?" Sherlock asked Anderson as he frowned and Anderson shrugged.

"Not the way I'd have done it," Anderson told them and Lexi shook her head at him slightly, smirking.

"Oh really?" Sherlock asked him as he crossed his arms and Lexi raised her eyebrow at the man.

"No, I'm not saying it's not clever, but ...," Anderson said, trailing off and Lexi raised my eyebrow at him higher. But what? There was something there.

"What?" Sherlock asked him sternly as he furrowed his eyebrows. Anderson shrugged again and waved his arm about as if he was searching for the right words.

"... Bit ... disappointed," Anderson finished and Sherlock sighed heavily.

"Everyone's a critic," Sherlock muttered as Lexi looked up at Anderson and narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before speaking up.

"Actually, that's not how it was done," Lexi told Anderson and he looked round at her sharply as Sherlock turned to her and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"What?" Anderson asked Lexi in shock before he looked up at Sherlock. "But he…," Anderson stuttered as he pointed to Sherlock and Lexi snorted at that.

"He wouldn't tell you the truth. I on the other hand…," Lexi said before she looked at Sherlock. "Sorry love," Lexi told Sherlock before she looked back at Anderson. "Sherlock and I knew that Moriarty's network was vast. To figure out just how large it was we both got held in contempt at his trial because we knew that we would be placed in an adjacent cell to him. We were right and we managed to talk to him without anyone else present, including John. From the beginning we attempted to keep John away from Moriarty as much as possible. The less contact they had with each other the better. We came up with a plan," Lexi explained to Anderson as he and Sherlock watched her with rapt attention. "We knew it was only a matter of time until Moriarty returned and attempted to destroy us so Mycroft fed Moriarty information about us. Moriarty didn't give us much on him, he was rather clever, but he gave us enough that Joanna was able to help me map out Moriarty's network. Joanna is an intelligence agent. She had no ties to any government or country and she helps those she likes. Currently that's the British Government. She also works for the British Security Service," Lexi told Anderson and his eyes widened in shock as he no doubt remembered a message he received two years ago. Joanna told her about that of course. "Moriarty had to think that he had the upper hand and we let him. We sat back and let him destroy our reputations bit by bit. Then we let him think that he had beaten us, utterly destroyed us. Once he did, he showed his hand like we expected him to. We invited him to the rooftop at Bart's so that the meeting would be on our terms. I calculated that there were thirteen possible outcomes for that meeting. Each had a designated course of action which Joanna and I set up before Moriarty's trial. Each was initiated with a code word. We called it the Ghost protocol and it was set into place as soon as Moriarty showed his face again," Lexi explained to Anderson while he sat on the edge of his seat and listen to her. Sherlock had relaxed back into his seat and was watching Lexi as he played with the fingers on her hand. "I knew that Moriarty would be willing to harm anyone we loved. He proved to me before that he was willing to do anything. What I never calculated for was Moriarty killing himself. I still have questions about that myself. It threw off our plans, but not enough that we couldn't go through with them. We didn't have much time so Sherlock contacted his brother while I contacted Joanna and we set the wheels into motion," Lexi said with a shrug. "Joanna has a lot of people who owe her favours so, she called them in. Lazarus initiated the protocol we had to use. We had to die. We hoped to have avoided it, but unfortunately it was unavoidable. Of course we wanted to avoid dying for real at all costs. Out there were two bodies that looked like us. Molly obtained the one that looked like Sherlock while I called in an old friend who owed me a favour. Liz is a pathologist who works at another hospital. She located the body that looked like me and brought it to Molly. Liz and Molly faked the paperwork and it was like those two bodies never existed. They got them both ready while we were on the roof. While Sherlock and I talked with John our people moved into position. There was a group on the ground and a group on the roof who took Moriarty's body away and cleaned the roof. Sherlock and I jumped off the roof together and we were attached to ropes. Once we past the point where John could still see us we were stopped and we propelled down to the third floor where Molly and Liz waited with an open window. Once inside the hospital we hurried downstairs while our cyclist delayed John. Molly and Liz pushed the bodies out of the window. We made it downstairs and Joanna's men hauled the bodies away and Sherlock and I replaced them. Then it was just window dressing. Our people moved in and the last few touches were put into place. We were both given a drug that slowed down our heart rates. It made it nearly impossible to find a pulse, also made us unable to move or speak on our own which meant there could be no room for error. As far as John was concerned we were dead. We were brought into the hospital on stretchers which is when Joanna's other favour was initiated. She cleared out the hospital for us for a total of half an hour. We were cleaned up, given a drug to counteract the effects of the first and then Mycroft and Joanna secreted us out of the hospital while Liz and Molly got the bodies we used ready. They were the ones used on the autopsies and Molly and Liz faked the records. It was a closed casket funeral due to our "injuries." Those bodies are buried in our graves. And that was how it was done. We knew John would stay where we placed him because we had asked. As for the sniper on Joanna and Mycroft, she found him first. He didn't live for too long though he should have known that Joanna protects the people she loves. She and Mycroft were together even then. The sniper on Lestrade was easily called away, the one of Mrs. Hudson was taken care of by Joanna's men, and the one on John was invited to reconsider by Mycroft and he was smart enough to take the offer. Everything was planned, everything was calculated for, and it all worked perfectly," Lexi finished and Anderson looked back at her in shock, his mouth hanging open.

"That's…that's incredible. Amazing, brilliant in fact," Anderson said in awe as he stared at Lexi in shock. "That is clever, really clever," Anderson added and Sherlock nodded and smirked slightly.

"Well it was Lexi's plan," Sherlock told Anderson. "Cat's out of the bag now," Sherlock sighed while Anderson grinned back at him in triumph. "Anyway, that's not why we came," Sherlock told Anderson, getting back to why they actually came to see him in the first place.

"No?" Anderson asked them, sounding worried slightly as well as surprised to hear this.

"No. I think you know why we're here, Phillip. "How I Did It" by Jack the Ripper?" Sherlock asked Anderson sternly. Anderson looked at the detectives wide-eyed, his mouth opening but no words came out for a moment as Lexi shook her head at him disapprovingly. He lowered his head, not meeting their eyes.

"Didn't you think it was intriguing?" Anderson asked them as he looked up at them hopefully and Lexi sighed heavily.

"Lurid. A case so sensational, you hoped I'd be interested. But you overdid it, Phillip – you and your little 'fan club'," Sherlock told Anderson as he stood up and helped Lexi to her feet. Sherlock started to pace around as Lexi watched Anderson closely.

"It was easy to see after a few minutes that it was all set up. You tried but yes, you over did it. Did you know that your fan club reached far wider than just London? We ran into a few members in Romania. Apparently it went international," Lexi told Anderson and he looked surprised by this knowledge. They had been quite surprised by this too.

"I just couldn't live with myself, knowing that I'd driven you two to ...," Anderson started before he stopped and looked away from them mournfully.

"But you didn't. You were always right. We weren't dead," Sherlock told Anderson and Lexi could tell that he was in fact proud of Anderson. Out of everyone, Anderson was the one person who believed that we weren't dead. He was the one person that figured it out even if he never figured out exactly how we had done it.

"No. No, and everything's okay now, isn't it?" Anderson asked them as he stared up at Sherlock while he continued to pace and then looked to Lexi where she stood close by him with her arms crossed over her chest, a smile on her face.

"Yeah," Sherlock told him while Lexi nodded at him and answered with a laugh and an "Aye." Anderson laughed in a relieved way and Lexi felt happy for him for a moment before Sherlock killed Anderson's moment of relief.

"Of course you've wasted police time, perverted the course of justice, risked distracting us from a massive terrorist assault that could have both destroyed Parliament and caused the death of hundreds of people," Sherlock told Anderson as he stopped pacing and looked down at him reprovingly.

"Oh, God," Anderson said tearfully before he broke down into tears and grabbed Sherlock and Lexi, pulling them closely to him. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Sherlock, Lexi. I'm so sorry," Anderson apologized to them as he hung on to them and wept against their coats. Looking uncomfortable, Sherlock tentatively patted him on the shoulder a couple of times while Lexi sighed and rubbed his back comfortingly. "Hang on," Anderson said, abruptly stopping crying and looking round. He stood up as Sherlock and Lexi took a step back and Anderson walked over to his wall of papers. "That doesn't make sense," Anderson said and Sherlock rolled his eyes and quietly sighed with an exasperated sound. Lexi looked over at him and shook her head fondly before taking his hand in hers. "How could you be sure John would stand on that exact spot? I mean, what if he'd moved? What if he didn't listen to you?" Anderson asked as the two consulting detectives turned and quietly left the room together. "Hey – how did you do it all so quickly? What if the bike hadn't hit him?" Anderson asked them suspiciously, unaware of their departure. "And anyway, why are you telling me all this?" Anderson asked as he chuckled. "If you two had pulled that off, I'm the last person you'd tell the truth ...," Anderson said before he turned around and tailed off when he realized that he was alone in the room. He stared for a moment, then chuckled. He switched between looking at all his paperwork and looking to where Sherlock and Lexi had been standing. "Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna!" Anderson said quietly in amusement. He chuckled again, pointing to the spot where Sherlock and Lexi had just been standing. "Sherlock and Lexi!" Anderson said even softer, with a combination of amusement and exasperation. His chuckle slowly developed into laughter, and then into hysterical laughter as he started tearing at the papers on the wall, ripping them off and whooping and giggling. Eventually he collapsed in the corner, rising up onto his knees to continue clawing at the papers and still laughing hysterically until he slumped back down again.

**Lexi's POV**

John was standing in the Tube carriage with his eyes closed and his head raised. He gripped the handrail and lowered his head, blowing out a long breath. That was the point when Sherlock started making sounds like he was crying but of course I knew that he was laughing. His head was lowered onto my shoulder and the back of his hand was across his mouth while his body shook with his hysterical laughter. I bit my lip and shook my head at him. This was what happened when he silently asked me to play along with him. John screwed his eyes even more tightly closed, waiting for an explosion that was never going to come. Sherlock lowered his hand and turned his head away, then turned back, hooting with laughter now. John opened his eyes and looked across to us as Sherlock giggled in high-pitched hilarity. Staring at us, John stepped forward and looked down at the countdown clock on the mother bomb. It was repeatedly flicking back and forth between 1:28 and 1:29. John turned away as if he couldn't believe it which was when I finally giggled, unable to help myself. Sherlock had found the off switch for the bomb while I had cut the wire and shut it off completely. John turned back to look at the clock again and then stared upwards in disbelief.

"You two...," John said as we both stood up, Sherlock supporting my weight as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks.

"Oh, your face!" Sherlock said, laughing hysterically.

"...utter ...," John said as Sherlock continued to laugh and I shook my head at him in exasperation.

"Your face!" Sherlock repeated.

"You two...," John said again in disbelief and Sherlock grinned.

"We totally had you," Sherlock told John and I looked back at the army doctor apologetically.

"Sorry," I told him with a slight smirk. It had been rather good if a bit mean.

"You cock! I knew it! I knew it! And you!" John said as he pointed at me and I shrugged at him, unfazed. It might have been slightly mean but it was payback for how he had attacked Sherlock. "You f...," John said before I looked at him sharply.

"Language," I reminded him sternly and he looked at me in exasperation.

"Oh, those things you said – such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared!" Sherlock said, simultaneously with me.

"I will kill you two if you ever breathe a word of this ...," John said, glaring at us murderously.

"Scout's honour," Sherlock promised him, grinning while holding up two fingers in a Boy Scout's salute.

"Pinky promise," I assured John with a grin.

"...to anyone. You two KNEW!" John said in exasperation and irritation as Sherlock grunted and we squatted down to the bomb next to each other. "You two knew how to turn it off!" John said furiously and I shrugged at him.

"There's an Off switch," Sherlock told John as I gestured to it. It was just on the side of the bomb.

"What?" John asked in confusion as he frowned slightly.

"There's always an Off switch," Sherlock told him as John bent down to look at the switch. "Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there's an Off switch," Sherlock said as he stood up before helping me up as well. I grunted in pain as I straightened my knee and Sherlock supported my weight as my knee almost gave out.

"So why did you two let me go through all that?" John asked us tightly as I shrugged at him and smirked slightly.

"We didn't lie altogether at least I didn't," Sherlock told John as he flicked his gaze over to me, a smirk on his face. "I've absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off," Sherlock told John as he chuckled and then wiped the tears off of his cheeks.

"Apparently I did have 'How to defuse a bomb' hidden away up there. Took some searching but I found it. I cut the wire so there is no possible way it could go off," I told John and Sherlock and I looked round as we heard a voice over a walkie-talkie radio coming through the open door of the driver's cab. Flashlight beams were approaching along the tunnel as well and John stared, then pointed towards them.

"And you did call the police," John said in shock and I nodded at him. Of course we had. In fact, Sherlock had called Lestrade while I had contacted Joanna. She had sent one of the men who owed her a favour out to us.

"'Course we called the police," Sherlock told John as three armed officers approached the tube car, flashlights shining from their raised rifles.

"I'm definitely gonna kill you two," John told us and I laughed at that brightly.

"Oh, please! Killing us – that's so two years ago," Sherlock told John, quirking a smile at him, he turned and helped me towards the driver's cab. Despite himself, John let out a silent laugh. Sherlock chuckled as we continued on, and John let out an exasperated sigh.

**Third Person POV**

In a hotel somewhere in London, a uniformed female member of the staff wheeled a trolley along the corridor, presumably on her way to deliver a meal to one of the rooms. She passed Room 305 and. Lord Moran opened the door and looked cautiously up and down the corridor before picking up his briefcase and leaving the room. When he got to the lift he pressed the Down button repeatedly. Almost immediately a gun was cocked behind his head and the muzzle held to the back of his neck. The gun was being held by the uniformed woman who had just walked past his room, having been one of Joanna's undercover contacts. As Moran raised his hands, two men ran towards him from opposite directions, also aiming pistols at him. Joanna walked around the corner with her mobile in her hand, typing rapidly, a gun on her hip which she left in its holster.

"Ah, Lord Moran. Wonderful for you to join us," Joanna said as she looked up from her mobile. "Thank you gents. I've got it from here," Joanna told the men before gesturing for the woman to lower her gun as well the lift dinged and Joanna gestured for Lord Moran to step in. "If you would," Joanna told him and Lord Moran sneered at her.

"What makes you think I would listen to you bitch?" Lord Moran spat at her and Joanna smirked and put her mobile in her back pocket. Before anyone knew what was happening Joanna had Lord Moran pinned up against the wall, his hands roughly pulled behind his back and her gun pressed into the back of his head.

"I'd do as I asked you nicely to or you'll find out just how much of a "bitch" I can be," Joanna told him with a pleasant smiled before she hauled him around and pushed him into the lift. "On our way down amante," Joanna said into her earpiece. She listened for a few seconds before grinning, smirking slightly as she pointed her gun at Lord Moran who shied away from her in the back of the lift. "No, no problems. Besides you know how I like to be a little forceful," Joanna said before laughing as she heard her fiancé spluttering at her into his ear piece. "Maybe later I'll show you," Joanna mused before she looked back at Lord Moran and grinned. Yes, Joanna could be very scary when she wanted to be as well as a big tease.

**Lexi's POV**

Outside the door to 221, reporters and photographers were milling around in the road. I was sitting on Sherlock and my bed, my knee in a brace. As soon as we had gotten out of the tunnels the night before Sherlock had taken me to the hospital. John had helped catch me when my knee gave out completely and the army doctor had insisted upon taking me to get looked at. I had fractured my knee when I fell on it in the Tube car, the initial injury having been from when I fell onto the road. I now had to walk with crutches for the next six to eight weeks and I wasn't happy. My knife wound was starting to heal though, now that I had gone more than a few hours without ripping my stitches again. Sherlock called for some time off for me to heal which I had approved off. We needed some time to get used to being home again and we had a lot of experiments to conduct now that we were back home. My consulting detective was currently standing in our bedroom on his mobile and over his phone the song "Do you hear the people sing?" from 'Les Miserables' could be heard. I smirked in amusement as Mycroft's voice came over the phone, his tone desperate.

"Sherlock, please. I beg of you. You two can take over at the interval," Mycroft plead as I looked over my husband appreciatively as he walked over to the wardrobe mirror and one-handedly buttoned his jacket over what I had officially called his Purple Shirt of Sex.

"Oh, I'm sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise. There's nothing we can do to help," Sherlock told Mycroft, not sounding sorry at all as he walked over to me and lowered his phone as he leaned down and captured my lips with his own. I brought my arms up around his neck and kissed him deeply as I ran my hands through his hair and Sherlock moaned pleasantly as our tongues tangled together.

"But you don't understand the pain of it – the horror!" Mycroft cried desperately, unaware that Sherlock and I were no longer listening to him and partaking in other activities.

"You are staying. I love this!" Joanna told him before she started arguing with Mycroft by the sound of it. Grinning through our heated kiss Sherlock ended the call and dropped his mobile onto our bed. He was just about to lay me back and crawl onto the bed when John approached our room along the corridor.

"Come on. You two will have to go down. They want the story…," John said as he walked into our room and he trailed off as he caught sight of Sherlock and me in our less than polite position. We broke apart, the both of us breathing heavily as John made a surprised face. "Oh…sorry," John told us awkwardly and I smirked at him and laughed.

"No harm," I told him as I pulled a blushing Sherlock down to me again and kissed him soundly before attempting to get up. Sherlock helped me up and rolled his eyes at my stubbornness before he and John let me walk out first on my crutches.

"In a minute," Sherlock told John as we passed by the army doctor and we walked into the living room where Mary was sitting on the sofa holding a glass of champagne. Mrs. Hudson sat in the nearby chair and Greg was sitting in John's chair, also holding a champagne glass. Sherlock popped the cork on a new bottle and walked across the room with the bottle and a glass, kneeling down beside the coffee table to pour.

"Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?" Mrs. Hudson asked Mary excitedly as Sherlock poured me a glass of champagne. We were celebrating both their "engagement" and our engagement and almost wedding. John and everyone else had insisted upon it since we never got to celebrate it before. Mycroft was refusing to make our marriage legal because he wanted us to have another, proper wedding. Sherlock and I were currently refusing. We were married in our eyes and a piece of paper was not going to change that.

"Er, well we thought May," Mary said and I grinned at her as Sherlock handed me a glass of champagne. I nodded at him and brought it to my lips, smirking before I took a sip.

"Oh! Spring wedding!" Mrs. Hudson said, fawning over Mary who she already loved as much as she did me and Joanna.

"Yeah. Well, once we've actually got engaged," Mary said, looking up at John with a grin.

"Yeah," John said awkwardly.

"We were interrupted last time," Mary said, looking pointedly at Sherlock and me and I grinned at her before shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, at least you were interrupted for a good cause," I told Mary and she shook her head at me and chuckled as John threw me a look. Sherlock smiled at Mary as I giggled and took another sip of my champagne.

"Yeah," John said again before he kissed the side of my head affectionately. I patted his arm happily, glad that he had forgiven us. We sort of went right back to the way we were before and he was acting like my big brother again.

"Well, I can't wait," Lestrade told them as he raised his glass in a toast. John, who had just put his jacket on, smiled round at him as I shook my head at the D.I. Putting down the glass he just poured for himself, Sherlock stood up and walked across towards the far window.

"You will be there, Sherlock, Lexi?" Mary asked us and I nodded at her before pulling a mock offended face. I would never miss the wedding of my Watson. Besides, Mary and I were old friends. We were already falling right back into our old ways with each other.

"Weddings – not really my thing," Sherlock told Mary as he looked across and winked at her and Mary snorted as everyone else laughed.

"You two are married! Not legally, but you still had a wedding," John said as he pointed at the both of us and I shrugged at him as Sherlock glared at him for a moment before looking to me.

"Yeah, about that. When are you two lovebirds going to actually get married?" Lestrade asked us and I sighed and rolled my eyes at him.

"Ooo, yes, when are you two going to get married?" Mrs. Hudson asked us excitedly and I groaned.

"Not now, at least we haven't really talked about it," I told Mrs. Hudson before I looked across to Sherlock. "We just got home two day ago," I reminded everyone before the door opened and we all looked round at it.

"Hello, everyone," Molly said as she stepped into the living room and I smiled at her as I raised my glass to her in greeting.

"You made it," I told her with a grin as I looked over the man that was with her with a critical eye and she nodded at me and smiled back.

"Hey, Molly," John told her in greeting.

"This is Tom," Molly introduced, holding hands with the man accompanying her. John stared at her boyfriend, almost doing a double-take and then looked across the room to where Sherlock was looking out of the window. "Tom, this is everyone," Molly said, gesturing to all of us as I bit my lip to hold back a giggle. I had to admit that Tom looked very similar to Sherlock. He was tall and slender and had dark curly hair which was a little shorter than Sherlock's. He also had large pale blue eyes and prominent cheekbones. He was wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up and the scarf around his neck was tied the same way that Sherlock tied his.

"Hi," Lestrade told him pleasantly as John took my glass from me and set it down on the coffee table for me as I was having issues bending down.

"It's really nice to meet you all," Tom said before he looked at John. "Hi," He told the army doctor who looked him up and down, grinning, then finally pulled himself together.

"Wow. Yeah, hi. I'm John," John introduced himself as he shook Tom's hand. "Good to meet you," John told him before I stepped forward awkwardly and offered him my hand he shook it while smiling at me.

"Lexi, it's wonderful to meet you," I told Tom with a large smile. "I see what Molly was talking about," I told Tom and he blushed slightly as he looked at Molly who was smiling at me brightly. "Come in and join the family," I told Tom before I looked across to Sherlock who turned around from the window.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked John and I and I laughed and nodded at him.

"Always," I told him and he smirked at me as everyone watched us.

"Ready," John told us and Tom turned to meet Sherlock who smiled down at Greg as he walked past him. The D.I. had been very happy that we were back. Sherlock then caught sight of Tom for the first time. He stopped dead and his eyes widened. Tom looked at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gave him the once-over from his feet upwards.

"Champagne?" Lestrade asked, breaking the awkward silence as he walked across the room behind us.

"Yes," Molly answered him and Sherlock's jaw dropped open a little and he turned his eyes towards John, who grinned back at him expectantly. Sherlock then turned to me and I grinned at him fondly before Sherlock finally held out his hand to Tom, and they shook hands. Sherlock grabbed my crutches from me and helped me limp over to the door. He glanced down at Molly as we walked in between the couple and Sherlock leaned my crutches up against the wall before he bent down and picked me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed in contentment as I laid my head on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile on my face. Tom turned to watch us go as Greg handed Molly a glass of champagne.

"Thanks," Molly told Greg and John started to follow after us but I saw him stop and briefly take another look at Tom who was taking a glass from Greg from over Sherlock's shoulder as we waited on the landing for John.

"Thank you," I heard Tom say before John headed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Did you, er ...?" John asked us quietly and I looked at him as Sherlock gently put me down on my feet so I could get my coat and scarf on. John helped support me as I couldn't put a lot of weight on my leg right now.

"I'm not saying a word," Sherlock answered him quietly as he handed me my scarf.

"No, best not," John told us while I smirked and Sherlock looked down at how he had just tied his scarf, then threw up his hands with an exasperated expression and sighed. I giggled as I tied my own scarf in a similar manner. I shook my head at Sherlock fondly and he grimaced at me slightly. John looked at the door again, then turned back to Sherlock and me. "I'm still waiting," John told us and Sherlock hummed questioningly as I raised my eyebrow at John. "Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me – put me in the bonfire?" John asked us and I looked back at him.

"Well, like I said, it wasn't the terrorists, it was someone else. But, as for the why they tried to kill you…," I said, trailing off as Sherlock picked up his coat.

"We don't know. We don't like not knowing," Sherlock said and I grinned at him and leaned in, pecking him on the lips quickly and stealing a kiss before I looked up at him with a mischievous grin. I shrieked in laughter as he quickly bent down and pulled me back up into his arms and I smacked his arm playfully as he smirked smugly at me and kissed me soundly before he started to trot down the stairs, John following behind us. "Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat," Sherlock told John as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and set me on my feet again. I leaned against the railing of the stairs as Sherlock put his coat on, John stopping a couple of steps from the bottom of the stairs. "We don't know who was behind all this, but we will find out, we promise you," Sherlock told John as he helped me into my coat. I hummed in agreement before I looked back at John.

"And we will find out. That I can assure you of. They've hurt a member of my family. There isn't a safe place for them to stand and there isn't a rock they can hide under. Joanna also doesn't like people hurting who she likes and she's quite protective of the people she chooses and I do mean that quite literally. She chooses people. Whoever they are we will find them and once we do they are going to wish they didn't try in the first place. Not to mention…they knew we were married. They called us Mr. and Mrs. Holmes in Mary's texts. Only Mycroft, Joanna, and Anthea knew at that point besides you, Mary, Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson. This is someone who knows something and I intend to know how they figured that out," I told John seriously and Sherlock smirked down at me. He enjoyed when I got protective of my friends, especially when I got protective of him. I was worried about many things but namely was how they had hurt John and how they knew we were married in the first place. Only a handful of people knew including a few people in Hungary. The information wasn't well known so how could this person have figured it out?

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this," John told us and Sherlock hummed at him questioningly, not looking round at him as he drew me to his chest and pressed his nose into my hair, breathing in my scent. "Being back. Being heroes again," John told us and I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, don't be stupid," Sherlock told John as he pulled back from me slightly and stroked my cheek affectionately. I leaned up as he bent down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You two love it," John said and I raised my eyebrow at him. I mean, I loved it a little bit, but we weren't heroes. We were consulting detectives.

"Love what?" Sherlock asked him as he turned round to him.

"Being Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," John told us and I laughed at that.

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean," Sherlock said before he turned and helped me walk down the hall after we put our gloves on.

"Sherlock, Lexi, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?" John asked us and we both stopped, not looking back at him. We knew that he would want to know. We didn't even tell Anderson the truth. The only people who knew exactly what happened were Sherlock and me and well, Molly, Mycroft, Joanna, and twenty-five members of our Homeless Network.

"You know our methods, John. We're known to be indestructible," Sherlock told John as I finally looked back at the army doctor who was watching us both closely.

"No, but seriously. When you two were dead, I went to your graves," John told us and I nodded at him with a slight smile on my face.

"I should hope so," Sherlock told him and I laughed at that.

"You are our best friend after all," I told John and I meant it. John had to be considered to be our best friend.

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you two," John told us and I nodded at him slowly.

"We know. We were there," Sherlock told him as he turned round to look at him.

"I asked you two for one more miracle. I asked you two to stop being dead," John told us thickly and I nodded at him with a sad smiled on my face.

"We heard you," Sherlock and I said softly and the three of us looked at each other before Sherlock drew in a sharp breath and turned around.

"Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," Sherlock said and I snorted at that and shook my head as Sherlock smiled and helped me towards the door.

"Yeah, this is going to be brilliant," I told Sherlock as we hesitated for a moment by the door. Sherlock reached across to the coat rack and took his deerstalker from its peg before I took my fedora off of it. We looked at each other for a long moment before we put them on our heads. Sherlock tugged his hat into position as I tilted my fedora forward. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at me and I nodded before he pulled the front door open. Sherlock helped me outside and the reporters gathered around us and started taking photos of us and shouting questions at is. John closed the door and stepped to our sides and I looked over at him and grinned before I slipped some folded paper into John's hand. He looked down at it and I gave him a pointed look before I looked back at the reporters. John slipped the papers into his pockets and then we got to be the Baker Street Irregulars. Life at Baker Street would never be the same again though, not when Lexi MacKenna and Sherlock Holmes were living there.

**Third Person POV**

Somewhere in a creepy-looking storage room, many rows of shelves were filled with files and folders. Displayed around the room were grotesque dolls, stuffed animals, and sculptures. At the end of the room, a man wearing thin-rimmed glasses was CCTV footage displayed on the wall. It showed several angles of John and Lexi being rescued from the bonfire. Some of it was on a loop, and Mary's anguished cry of "John!" repeated several times while Sherlock's frantic cry of "Lexi!" repeated while Sherlock dragged John and then Lexi out from underneath the bonfire. The man watched intently as the footage repeated over and over again, and his gaze finally settled on a freeze-frame of Sherlock leaning down to the fire just before he pulled John free and then on a freeze frame of Lexi as she turned back once before she dove into the bonfire to rescue John. The man looks fixedly at Sherlock and Lexi's image ... and his pupils rapidly contracted.

**John's POV**

John sat down on his couch in his and Mary's flat with a tumbler of whiskey and pulled the papers that Lexi had handed him earlier out of his pocket. She hadn't told them what they were and she had only told him to not let Sherlock see them in a quiet whisper after they finally managed to shake off the reporters and go back up to the flat to join the party. John unfolded the papers and found that they were the pages that had been ripped out from Lexi's journal.

John,

How it was done? You've probably already asked us this question by now and knowing Sherlock, he didn't give you an answer, at least, a proper answer. You asked us to not be dead and sometimes, very rarely, impossible things happen and we call them miracles. While I would like to say that this is what this is, that you asked us for one more miracle and it was granted, you deserve more of an answer than that. So I'll tell you, how it was done. You can never let on to Sherlock that you know this. He would prefer for it to remain some great mystery. Burn these pages when you're finished with them. You deserve and explanation John. You know why we did it, at least in part, but now for the how and the rest of the why. I'll tell you that it was a rather elaborate plan, it had to be. There have been many theories about how we did it and we told Anderson two separate stories, both of which weren't true, but had some elements of truth to them. So, finally, here it is, the solution to the Final Problem….

The Final Problem actually started a long time before the roof top, even before Moriarty's trial. It started back at the pool. Moriarty said it wasn't our day to die and that's because he never intended to kill us then. You, possibly, but not us. No, Moriarty had already been planning the Final Problem for a while. You see, he was interested in Sherlock and me but he thought we were ordinary like everyone else. He figured we had out lived our usefulness as a distraction for him so he devised a way to destroy us, a plan that would end in our deaths, but I'll get to that. Moriarty helped Irene next. She said she had all this information but had no idea what to do with it until Moriarty contacted her and told her exactly what to do. She said Moriarty didn't ask her for anything. That was my first clue. Moriarty didn't ask for anything because Irene was unknowingly helping him. He was desperate for Mycroft's attention and he got it. At the same time he used Irene to try and burn me and tear Sherlock and me apart. He knew that together we were stronger. That was his first mistake but also his part of his plan which we ruined.

Mycroft then held Moriarty after finally capturing him. This was what Moriarty wanted though. He would never get captured unless it was what he wanted, no, he wanted Mycroft to think he had him. Mycroft never told Joanna about it and like I'm sure you found out, Mycroft could only get Moriarty to talk if he told him about us, our life stories. That was the second step of Moriarty's plan. Find out the truth. I've told you before that the best lies have basis in facts. It makes them more believable. Mycroft let Moriarty go just after we left Dartmoor. And then he waited. He was waiting for the perfect moment and once it arrived he set his plan into motion.

You see, there never was a keycode that could open any door. There were just three people who had some pressure applied to them and then they did whatever Moriarty liked. Everyone has their pressure points. Moriarty wanted to be on trial because he wanted to show the world what he could do. He wanted to show off. Since before his trial Moriarty started setting up his entire false persona as Richard Brook. In German Richard Brook means Reichenbach, the case that earned us our rise in fame. He meant it as a joke. Before his trial, Moriarty also contacted Kitty Riley who had previously written a few articles about us. He fed her a story and then she came to Sherlock who of course was Sherlock and turned her down for an interview. So Kitty, feeling scorned, decided to print the article even if she knew that there were some holes in it.

I have spoken with her. She did have her doubts about Moriarty, but she wanted to be promoted. Get the big story first and here came Richard Brook who was willing to give it all to her. And Moriarty was also crafty. He did the same thing to her as he did to Molly. He acted like he loved her, that he understood what it was like to not be seen and Kitty bought right into it. Moriarty is and will always be a Psychopath. The story helped to destroy our reputations just as he planned but he needed to do more than destroy our reputations, he needed to utterly destroy us, so, Moriarty hired two people, a man and a woman that looked a lot like us. He had them kidnap the ambassador's children. When they later saw us they screamed like he knew they would which threw suspicion onto us.

And then the seed of doubt was planted. Donovan as Moriarty was sure she would started to suspect Sherlock and me as the kidnappers and then Anderson agreed with her. And so they went to Lestrade and they got him to even believe it. Once doubt is planted it's very hard to ignore. In Kitty's flat you even began to doubt us for just a second. And why wouldn't you when all the evidence looked like Richard Brook was real and Moriarty was just a lie. How were you to know? Course, you could have listened to us, but everyone feels slightly betrayed when evidence points to someone telling them a lie. And that's what happened to Lestrade. You were the last person that Moriarty was trying to convince but he couldn't do it.

We knew that Moriarty was going to come back and try to burn us, destroy us completely. After we got back from Sherlock's parents, a note was waiting for us from him. He asked us if we were ready to play the game again and we knew it was only a matter of time before he returned. We wanted to tell you of our engagement but we had to hide it from everyone. We knew that Moriarty would already try to use us against each other because we were closer than before. With us engaged he would have more fire power and we were trying to give him as little as possible. Mycroft unfortunately did enough of that for us. The day, the day we met Moriarty, the day of the Fall…we knew that Moriarty was prepared, like us, to do anything. Knowing Moriarty like I did I knew that he would hurt everyone we loved to get to us.

So…we sent you away. Sherlock texted Moriarty and invited him to the rooftop at Bart's so the meeting would be on our terms. Next we had Joanna call you and she told you that Mrs. Hudson had been shot, a lie we knew would have you running back to Baker Street. Hope you like her British accent. We had to act like we didn't care which was difficult, especially for Sherlock. We decided to tell you we were engaged. One of the possibilities that I accounted for might be Sherlock and my deaths. I had to consider the possibility. We wanted at least one other person to know. Sherlock and I went up to meet him on the roof while you went off to "help" Mrs. Hudson.

**Flashback**

_Sherlock and I walked out onto the roof of the hospital together. Daylight had finally come and this was us, facing Moriarty for possibly the last time. He was waiting for us too, back in his typical smart suit and overcoat with his hair slicked back. He was calmly sitting on the raised ledge at the edge of the building with his phone in his hand while The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" played from it. He didn't look at Sherlock or me as we came up onto the roof and walked towards him. He was casual, even now. That was Moriarty and something I had come to learn. He didn't feel fear. It was a completely foreign concept to him. No matter what Sherlock or I ever did, he would never feel fear even if I were to kill him myself on this rooftop. And that was what made him so dangerous. I didn't fear him anymore though. He was just a man. Fear of the name, well, I wouldn't call him Moriarty anymore. He was simply Jim in my eyes. I still feared what he could do because I knew that like us he was prepared to do anything but I could never be afraid of him anymore. There were many more things I feared these days. _

_"Ah. Here we are at last – you two and me, Sherlock, Lexi, and our problem – the final problem," Moriarty said and he held his phone up higher. Well he had officially ruined that song for me forever. "Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Moriarty continued in a bit of a singsong voice before he angrily switched off his phone. "It's just ...," Moriarty said as he held his hand out flat with the palm down and skimmed it slowly through the air level to the roof "... staying," Moriarty said and he pulled his hand back and briefly sunk his head into it while Sherlock paced around the roof just in front of me. I knew that he was keeping himself between me and Moriarty and his gaze, while staying trained on Moriarty, also flicked to me as I watched the consulting criminal wearily. "All my life I've been searching for distractions. You two were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you two," Moriarty said and Sherlock's head turned sharply to him as she continued to pace. "And you know what? In the end it was easy," Moriarty told us and Sherlock stopped beside me and folded his hands behind his back. I kept my hands loosely at my sides, seemingly relaxed but Sherlock looked to my shoulders and I knew that he knew I was very tense right now. "It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people," Moriarty said, his face pulling an expression as if this would physically pain him. "And it turns out you two are ordinary just like all of them," Moriarty said quietly in disappointment. He lowered his head again and rubbed his face before looking up at Sherlock and me. "Ah well," Moriarty said in a singsong voice as he stood up and walked closer to us before he started to slowly pace around us. I moved my hands behind my back, mimicking Sherlock's posture as I watched Moriarty, not turning my head to look at him, but waiting and listening. "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?" Moriarty asked us, pausing to look at Sherlock as he said real and pausing before me as he said get you._

_"No the bruise on your face was proof enough for me. Though lovely job with the acting," I told Moriarty and he smirked at me and nodded at my sarcastic compliment. _

_"Richard Brook," Sherlock said, giving me a side long look before he turned and gaze out over London again. _

_"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you two do," Moriarty told us and I nodded once at him as I met his gaze. _

_"Of course," Sherlock answered him as I said, "Elementary."_

_"Attaboy," Moriarty told Sherlock while he just smirked at me in a way that made my skin crawl. _

_"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made our name," Sherlock told Moriarty as the consulting criminal continued to circle us in an almost predatory way. _

_"Just tryin' to have some fun," Moriarty told us in a fake American accent and I laughed at that, drawing Moriarty's attention as Sherlock flicked his gaze to me._

_"All you had to do was ask. I think you'd like my kind of fun," I told Moriarty threateningly and he giggled as he stopped and looked at me dead in the eye. _

_"Oooh when did you get to be so violent?" Moriarty asked me in amusement, flicking his gaze over to Sherlock and raising his eyebrow before he looked back at me. _

_"Hmmm, let me think was it at the pool or when you thought you could use Ms. Adler against us?" I asked Moriarty, tilting my head to side as if I was thinking. "No, it most certainly was the pool. I told you. I'm not playing games anymore," I told Moriarty dangerously and he leaned in towards me with a smirk on his face._

_"I can see that," Moriarty told me in amusement before he started to pace around us again. He looked down to Sherlock's hands and saw that he was tapping out a rhythm with his fingers. I frowned for a moment when I watched the pattern again and started taping the rhythm out on my leg. Something was off about it, something I didn't notice before. _

_"Good. You got that too," Moriarty told us as my frown deepened._

_ "Beats like digits," Sherlock told Moriarty as I went through the pattern again. Not digits, finger movements. Keys, finger spacing, piano. "Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save our lives. It was hidden on us; hidden inside our heads – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system," Sherlock continued as I closed my eyes and tried to figure this out. _

_"I told all my clients, last one to Sherlock and Lexi is a sissy," Moriarty said and his tone of voice was slightly off, not taunting like I would have suspected, now he sounded slightly disappointed almost bored._

_"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. We can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty," Sherlock said, gesturing to his own head and smiling ever so slightly. Moriarty gazed at him for a moment, then turned away with a disappointed look on his face. I was right, we had gotten something wrong. _

_"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," Moriarty said, closing his eyes as he buried his head in his hands. "This is too easy," Moriarty repeated in despair as he lowered his hands and turned back to Sherlock. "There is no key, DOOFUS!" Moriarty said, screaming the last word into Sherlock's face and I fought against flinching. "Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. She's figured it out already though, didn't you Lexi?" Moriarty asked me and I nodded once as Sherlock couldn't hide the confused look on his face. "You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed," Moriarty told Sherlock and he turned away from us and lumbered across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continued speaking. "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."_

_"But the rhythm ...," Sherlock said in confusion, trailing off as I put a hand on his arm and looked at Moriarty. _

_""Partita number one." I should have realized it sooner. You are a fan of his work though I prefer Brahms," I told Moriarty and he raised his hands in the air. _

_"Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach," Moriarty cried skyward before he turned around and lowered his arms angrily. _

_"But then how did ...," Sherlock asked Moriarty, still sounding confused but Moriarty spoke over him. I was just putting the pieces together myself, thing I should have realized before but we had taken what we saw, what we had been told so literally, never once thinking about another alternative. _

_"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" Moriarty asked us as he turned and spread his arms wide before looking at me. "Care to explain Lexi? I'm dying to hear your thoughts, quite literally dying. I thought you were ordinary, but you aren't, you know. When did you begin to guess?" Moriarty asked me and I looked over at him, squeezing Sherlock's arm slightly before I answered the consulting criminal. _

_"From the beginning I always wondered if something was off about the keycode. A keycode that can unlock any door? I would have found one if it was possible, but it isn't. There's always some system you can't bypass and some back door you can't find. Then there was the fact that there wasn't even a trace of it, not even a whisper. There were two possibilities for that, either the code was so advanced that I couldn't find it or there never was a code to begin with. You said in our flat that you had already told us, asked us if we were listening and you had, but it wasn't about the keycode. "Every person has a pressure point; someone they want to protect from harm."" I told Moriarty, reciting the last part from memory as I finally connected the dots and saw all of the patterns. "Daylight robbery, you convinced people to help you and they were all too willing because you threatened them like you did the jury," I finished and Moriarty raised his hands and started to clap slowly as I eyed him wearily. _

_"You're clever," Moriarty said, pointing at me accusingly before he looked at Sherlock with a smirk on his face. "Isn't she Sherlock, more clever than you at least. "I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you two chose a tall building – nice way to do it," Moriarty told us sounding slightly upset which was hard for me to comprehend and I gritted my teeth. Sherlock had been staring blankly into the distance as I explained everything to him and Moriarty, but now he looked back at the consulting criminal in bewilderment._

_"Do it? Do – do what?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I looked to Sherlock. He blinked as it became clearer to him, his eyebrows raising as he and I turned towards Moriarty. "Yes, of course. Our suicides," Sherlock said, answering his own question. _

_""Genius detectives proved to be frauds." I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales," Moriarty said as Sherlock reached for my left hand and held it in his own as we walked to the edge of the room together and leaned forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Moriarty waked to stand beside Sherlock and looked over the side as well. "And pretty Grimm ones too," Moriarty finished as he turned his head and looked at Sherlock and I ominously._

_Sherlock, Moriarty and I turned towards each other at the edge of the roof, just staring at each other. "We can still prove that you created an entirely false identity," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone dangerous, as I looked back at the consulting criminal. _

_"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," Moriarty told us wearily, sounding exasperated. Sherlock turned and I turned away and Sherlock began to pace distractedly. "Go on. For me," Moriarty pleaded with us and he made his voice into a high-pitched squeal for the next word. "Pleeeeeease?" Moriarty asked us and in a sudden movement, Sherlock grabbed him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spun him around so that Moriarty's back was to the drop. I took a step towards them and put a hand on the one of the arms Sherlock was holding Moriarty with, stopping him for the most part, but also wanting to be right next to him. Sherlock stared into Moriarty's face as I also looked at the consulting criminal. Sherlock shoved him back one step nearer to the edge and Moriarty looked at us with interest as Sherlock's breathing became shorter._

_"You're insane," Sherlock told Moriarty as my grip on his arm tightened, Moriarty just blinked back at us, seemingly unfazed as he raised his arms to his sides slightly._

_"You're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked us and I shook my head at him, my hair bouncing around me._

_"Oh no, I've always known you were mental," I told Moriarty and Sherlock shoved him further back, now holding him over the edge. Moriarty whooped almost triumphantly and gazed back at us with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp._

_"Okay, let me give you two a little extra incentive," Moriarty told us and Sherlock frowned at him as Moriarty's voice became more savage. "Your friends will die if you two don't," Moriarty told us and fear began to creep into Sherlock's eyes as I narrowed my eyes at Moriarty, my heart beating just a bit faster. _

_"John," Sherlock said in a quiet voice. _

_"Not just John," Moriarty told us before continuing in a savage whisper. "Everyone."_

_"Mrs Hudson," Sherlock continued as I shifted closer to Moriarty._

_"Everyone" Moriarty told us again in a whisper with a delighted smile on his face as I clenched my free hand into a fist, shaking slightly in anger. _

_"Lestrade," Sherlock said and Moriarty looked away from him and towards me._

_"Everyone," Moriarty hissed dangerously at me. _

_"Mycroft," I said and Moriarty raised an eyebrow at me and I clenched my teeth and continued. "And Joanna," I added, knowing that he was expecting more from me. _

_"Five bullets; five gunmen; five victims. There's no stopping them now," Moriarty told us, shaking his head and Sherlock furiously pulled him back upwards to safety. Moriarty stared into his face as I slid my hand into Sherlock's free one now that he only held onto Moriarty with one hand. "Unless my people see you two jump," Moriarty told us and Sherlock gazed past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Moriarty shook himself free of Sherlock's grasp and smiled triumphantly. I glared at Moriarty, gritting my teeth angrily. This was his plan all along. "You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me…," Moriarty said, flashing his smirk at me at that. "…but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only five friends in the world will die ... unless ..." Moriarty said getting in our faces and adding bite to the word unless. He trailed off as he watched us closely._

_"...unless we kill ourselves – complete your story," Sherlock finished for him, looking beyond him as I looked out over London as well. Moriarty nodded, smiling ecstatically at us. _

_"You've gotta admit that's sexier," Moriarty told us, making a face as he did a wild arm gesture and I looked up at Sherlock, biting my lip slightly._

_"And we die in disgrace," Sherlock said, his gaze distant and lost. _

_"Of course. That's the point of this," Moriarty told us in a matter of fact tone. He looked over the side and I leaned just a bit and saw that someone had stopped at the benches near the bus stop below us, and several other people were in the vicinity. "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," Moriarty told us and he rolled his head from side to side on his neck. "Go on," Moriarty told us and we slowly stepped past him and up onto the ledge together. Sherlock's hold on my hand tightened as we stepped up together. "I told you how this ends," Moriarty told us as Sherlock's breathing became shakier as we looked down. I inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering my fear of heights. It never got to me before when I was moving quickly over roof tops. When I was chasing a criminal I had purpose but now I was just staring down at the pavement. "Your deaths are the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it," Moriarty told us, and he turned his head to look up at Sherlock and I expectantly. Sherlock blinked anxiously as I brought by other hand up and clutched his arm tightly. _

_"Would you give us ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" Sherlock asked Moriarty before he glanced down at him. "Please?" Sherlock asked Moriarty who looked disappointed that Sherlock should be so ordinary and ask for something like that. _

_"Of course. Anything for the happy couple," Moriarty told us as his eyes slid down to my left hand and the ring that rested on my ring finger. "You know, I never did get to tell you congratulations," Moriarty told us with a smirk before he moved away from us across the room. Sherlock took several shallow anxious breaths to calm himself, then he stopped breathing for a moment as he turned slightly and looked at me. I frowned thoughtfully as I saw what he was getting at and our brains kicked into gear again. Sherlock lifted his gaze and his expression became more thoughtful as he looked back at me and I saw my Sherlock. Always thinking of a way out and always brilliant. Slowly a smile spread across his face and he started to chuckle. Behind us, Moriarty was slowly walking across the roof but he stopped, his expression livid, when Sherlock laughed with delight. "What?" Moriarty demanded, spinning around to us furiously and Sherlock continued to laugh. "What is it?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock and I half turned on the ledge, Sherlock smiling towards him as he glared back. I wasn't laughing though. I saw what Sherlock did, but knowing Moriarty he would have expected for some error to occur in his plans. He knew me, he knew I was unpredictable. "What did I miss?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock hopped down off the ledge before lifting me off of it by the waist and setting me carefully down beside him before we walked closer to Moriarty together._

_"You're not going to do it." So the killers can be called off, then – there's a recall code or a word or a number," Sherlock said as we dropped hands and circled Moriarty in opposite directions. "We don't have to die ...," Sherlock told Moriarty before his voice became sing-song. "...if we've got you._

_"Oh!" Jim said and he laughed in relieved delight. I eyed him and Sherlock wearily. There was something her that was too easy about it and Moriarty wouldn't let it be easy for us. Sherlock was lowering his guard slightly because he thought he was cleverer than Moriarty. Ego and pride was one of the Holmes' downfalls, but I was on my guard. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you two can make me do that?" Moriarty asked us, pointing at Sherlock as he past Moriarty and he eyed me as I circled him, calculating several possibilities all at once. My brain worked into high gear as I calculated, recalculated and thought of every move Moriarty could make now. _

_"Yes. So do you or at least you know Lexi can," Sherlock told Moriarty, flicking his gaze up to me as he continued to circle around the consulting criminal. "You know that she has her methods and as she said, she isn't playing your game anymore," Sherlock added and Moriarty shook his head slightly at that._

_"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to," Moriarty told us as he tightened his lips and Sherlock stopped, getting into Moriarty's face. I paused as well beside Sherlock, but stayed as far back as I could in my position from Moriarty. _

_"Yes, but we're not my brother, remember? We are you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want us to shake hands with you in hell? We shall not disappoint you," Sherlock told Moriarty, folding his hands behind his back as I hardened my gaze at the consulting criminal who just shook his head at us slowly. _

_"You've never seen what I can do, what I am prepared to do," I told Moriarty and he flicked his gaze over to me as my voice took on a dark threatening tone. "You've gone and threatened everyone I love. There is not a safe place for you to stand," I threatened Moriarty, my tone biting and clipped as I leaned in towards him, my eyes dark and dangerous. I was willing to shoot Henry in the hollow if he so much as made one move to harm Sherlock or John. Now Moriarty threatened the five people I cared most about and he was threatening Sherlock. I was prepared to do anything now. _

_"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're both ordinary – you're on the side of the angels," Moriarty told us and I laughed darkly at that_

_"Oh, we may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that we are one of them," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone becoming more ominous. We locked eyes for a long moment while Moriarty tried to deduce just how far Sherlock and I would go. When he locked eyes with me my eyes narrowed dangerously. _

_"No, you're not," Moriarty said and he blinked, then closed his eyes briefly. Sherlock did likewise in an unintentional mirror movement. Moriarty smiled and opened his eyes again as I eyed him darkly. "I see. You two aren't ordinary. No. You're me," Moriarty told us softly, sounding insane. He hissed out a delighted laugh and his voice became more high-pitched. "You're me! Thank you!" Moriarty told us and he lifted his hands as if to embrace Sherlock and me, but then he lowered them and offered a hand for the each of us to shake. "Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna," Moriarty said as the three of us looked down at his offered hands. Sherlock slowly raised his own right hand while I slowly raised my left hand and took one of Moriarty's proffered hands. "Thank you. Bless you," Moriarty told us, nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stayed soft. He blinked and lowered his gaze as if blinking back tears. "As long as I'm alive, you two can save your friends; you've got a way out," Moriarty said and he continued the blink with his gaze lowered. "Well, good luck with that," Moriarty told us and in rapid succession he raised his eyes to Sherlock and I, grinned manically, opened his mouth wide and dropped my hand before pulling Sherlock closer to him as he reached into his waistband with his other hand and pulled a pistol out, raising it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulled back, the both of us crying out in alarm, Moriarty stuck the muzzle into his own mouth and pulled the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. I let out a sound of shock as Sherlock and I stared in horror as blood began to trickle across the roof underneath Moriarty's head. His eyes were fixed and open and there was a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spun away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raised his hands to his head in horror. I opened and closed my mouth in shock and I must have let out some noise as Sherlock turned back to me instantly and spun my around by my shoulders to face him._

_"Don't look," Sherlock told me as I stared at him in horror and he pulled me tightly to him. I buried my face into his chest. Letting out a small sob. That was it, we had no choice. "Lexi…," Sherlock whispered quietly as he pulled back and looked down at me as tears streamed down my face, his own eyes watering. I flung myself at him and held him tightly. Together, it would always be together._

**End of Flashback**

Moriarty threatened everyone we loved, you, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft, and Joanna. But he realized like we did that we were prepared to do anything. As long as he was alive we didn't need to kill ourselves and complete his story. So, Moriarty shot himself. We never expected for that but one of the last things he told us was that we were him. In many ways we are like Moriarty, but…Moriarty was… there's not a really a word for him. And from there our plan fell apart slightly. Before Moriarty's return Joanna and I set up something called the Ghost protocol. We figured out several possibilities that Moriarty's game with us could end with. This was one we hoped wouldn't be the case. Our deaths. We had planned for it in the off chance that we needed to die, fake our deaths. The project was called Lazarus and we texted Joanna and Mycroft and set the wheels into motion.

**Flashback**

_Sherlock took a step back from me and I breathed in deeply before taking a look back at Moriarty. I went over to him, despite Sherlock trying to pull me back and I examined his head wound and checked his pulse. He was dead. He was actually dead. While that messed up our entire plan I felt a sense of relief. Moriarty had haunted me for years and he was finally gone. I stood up and looked back at Sherlock who was watching me closely and I nodded at him. _

_"He is dead," I told Sherlock and he inhaled sharply as I knew that he felt relieved too. "We don't have a lot of time," I told Sherlock and he nodded as we both got out our mobiles. I texted Joanna one word, Lazarus while Sherlock texted Mycroft the same. I looked up at Sherlock next and we grabbed each other's hands before we walked over to the roof together. Together, we could do this as long as we were together. _

**End of Flashback**

The Lazarus protocol granted us a quick escape. It meant we needed to die and disappear. Molly and Liz helped us with our plan along with Sherlock's Homeless Network. The people Moriarty hired to kidnap the children were killed as soon as their usefulness was used up. Molly got the body that looked like Sherlock in her morgue while Liz got the body that looked like me in her morgue. Both of them were vital to our plan. Moriarty underestimated Molly. He overlooked one of the people that mattered the most to us. Liz faked paperwork and records and transferred the body to Molly, wiping any record of it. Molly did the same with the body she had and our people ran into place. They set up an airbag on the ground for us to land on. Our plan would only work as long as you were standing where you couldn't see it which was why we were so urgently keeping you in one place. Joanna relayed information to everyone while they took their places. We jumped, and we fell and then we went back farther than you could see us. The air bag caught us and we moved quickly. It was vital that we were able to move fast enough.

Up on the third floor Molly and Liz got the bodies ready. As our Homeless Network moved the airbag away as Molly and Liz dropped the bodies out of the window. Two members of the Homeless Network quickly posed them slightly. You started towards us and our cyclist came and knocked you down. While you fell and hit your head, buying us time, our people moved to get the air bags out of the way. Hidden slightly by the truck, Joanna's men pulled the bodies out of the way and brought them back into the hospital from the side. Sherlock and I replaced the bodies and our people moved in. A bit of blood spilled on the pavement and placed on our faces made it look real and then we were given a drug which slowed down our pulse. It was barely there because it had to be. It was actually the same drug the people who kidnapped you used before they put you in the bonfire.

You saw us while our people tried to limit how much contact you had with us. We were brought into the hospital in stretchers and we went one way while two more stretchers with the corpses that looked like us went another. "We" were pronounced dead while the real us were brought to a room and given a drug to counteract the first. Joanna managed to pull a few favours and only our people saw to us. Once we were conscious Joanna's men got us out while Lestrade and you were called in. You saw the bodies which you thought we us and we left and met up with Mycroft and Joanna. For a few days we laid low and then we came to our funeral. We listened to you in the graveyard John. You asked us for one more miracle and then we had to leave you, we left to dismantle Moriarty's web.

The sniper that was trained on Joanna and Mycroft was killed…by Joanna. She noticed him and took him out before he could hurt Mycroft. Before she got our text she thought it was an assassin that was sent to kill him. The one that was sent for Mrs. Hudson was taken out by Joanna's men. The one on Lestrade was harder to find. Anderson noticed him later. He was a police officer who went over to Moriarty's side and first planted the doubt in Donovan's head about us. And then the one on you was invited to reconsider. He listened in the end but then again, Joanna can be very convincing. We knew that we could tell Anderson part of how we did it because he would never believe that we would tell him the truth. So, we told him two separate stories, part of both which were true and together can make the full story.

So there you have it John, the solution to the Final Problem. We had to die, but of course we wanted to avoid that at all costs. How it was done? Together, it was done together like we've always done things from the beginning. But is this the truth? I guess you'll never know. You see John, how it was done doesn't matter. What matters is that we're alive. So let's call this impossible thing a miracle. Yes, you deserve answers, but this is one mystery that shouldn't be solved. Let's simply call it the Reichenbach Fall and leave it at that, let' s leave the world to think what they would like whether it be ropes or an airbag or a blue box. This is our miracle. We heard you John, like we always will because in the end it's always the three of us. Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys against the world. It's chases through London, and solving crimes, and being together and that's what we've always been from the very start. John Watson… I'm so glad to have met you.


	91. Into Battle

**Hello sweeties and welcome to the first chapter of The Sign of 3. I'll say no more so Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighty Nine- Into Battle<strong>

**Third Person POV**

**Eighteen Months Ago**

A newspaper article was headed, "BANK GANG LEAVE COPS CLUELESS". The accompanying photograph showed two men outside a court holding their hands up in front of their faces so they couldn't be recognized in the pictures. At the entrance to the court itself Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan walked briskly out through the door.

"They just walked out of there!" Lestrade said, raising his hand and holding his gloves up in ire.

"Yeah, I know. I was sort of sitting next to you," Donovan told him pointedly as she walked next to him, one hand on her bag.

"The whole Waters family! They just walked right out of there!" Lestrade continued irritably as he continued to wave his gloves around and Donovan rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Again, I was in the room," Donovan told him as they started off down the stairs before he started talking over her loudly.

"How do they always manage that?" Lestrade asked her loudly, his anger mounting and Donovan looked at him, opening and closing her mouth before answering him.

"They're good," Donovan told him, recalling how Lexi was also that good or had been. She could have done it better than them still.

"They're greedy, and they'll do it again, and next time we're gonna catch 'em in the act," Lestrade told her and Donovan faltered as she stared after him in confusion.

"H-how?" She asked him before she started walking again and hurried to catch up with him.

**Twelve Months Ago**

A newspaper article was headed, "WHO STOLE OUR TWO MILL?" and showed police officers standing in a cordoned-off area outside a building, with a police car parked behind the cordon. In real life, Greg got into the driver's seat of his car parked just outside the cordon and angrily slammed the door closed. Sally was sitting in the passenger seat and she looked over at him wearily.

"No good?" Donovan asked him worriedly. The longer this case took to solve, the worse Lestrade's mood seemed to get with every passing day.

"They always know we're coming. How do they always know?" Lestrade asked Donovan furiously and she looked back at him, unable to really answer that.

"They're good. They work at it," Donovan told him with a sigh as she turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"They're never gonna stop," Lestrade told her and she looked back at him, dropping her hand into her lap quickly.

"Well, neither are we," Donovan told him determinedly and Lestrade nodded at her before he started the car and pulled away from the curbing.

**Six Months Ago**

A new headline read, "POLICE ARE NO CLOSER TO WATERS GANG CONVICTION" and the photograph again showed the court. Greg stormed out of the building with Sally behind him and the D.I. let out an angry incoherent noise as he walked away.

**Three Months Ago**

This time the headline read, "Waters gang walk free – again!" and there was another photo of two men near the court, covering their faces against the photographers. On the steps outside the court, two uniformed police officers stood and watched while Greg repeatedly kicked the living daylights out of the back tire of his car, grunting with fury. Sally stood beside the driver's door and helplessly watched him before she finally had enough.

"Greg!" Donovan shouted loudly at him and he gestured dramatically at her as she sighed deeply in exasperation.

"In the act! The only way we're gonna do this! In. The. Act!" Lestrade shouted loudly at her and he kicked the tire once more and then stormed forward and angrily tugged the driver's door open, inadvertently shoving Sally out of the way.

**Yesterday**

A man wearing a gruesome clown's mask and holding a sawn-off shotgun looked around a bank vault and then turned to where a second man, wearing a different but equally horrid-looking mask, straightened up from typing on a laptop. A third masked man was inside a nearby open strong room and was slowly carrying three heavy gold ingots toward the door. The laptop screen showed, "ALARMS OFFLINE". The second man went into the strong room where hundreds of gold ingots were stacked up on a couple of pallets. He lifted three ingots on top of each other, then hauled them up in his hands and made his way out.

On a different laptop the screen showed the same information as the one in the vault but this one now displayed a second message reading, "*** HACKING DETECTED***". In a car outside the bank, Donovan sat in the passenger seat with the laptop on her lap. The rooftop lights of nearby police cars were flashing and police officers were walking around. Greg sat beside her, watching the screen closely.

"You still blocking it?" Lestrade asked her and she nodded at him.

"Yeah. Very efficiently hacked," Donovan told him as she looked over at Greg, the both of them no doubt thinking of the same thing, Lexi. She could have not only hacked it in under a minute but she could have blocked it a lot better too and possibly have gotten them footage of what was going on inside. "They must be bloody pleased with themselves."

"They must be!" Lestrade told her and he smiled at her. Inside the strong room the third clown was looking down at the two pallets, which were now empty. The second clown walked over to him and pus his hand on his shoulder. Outside, armed police began to run into the bank. Greg and Sally were out of the car and Greg gestured to her as they followed the others. "Right then?" Lestrade asked her and Sally shook her head at him quickly.

"Oh, no! No, you've gotta make the arrest. This one's yours, boss," Sally told him, knowing that the only thing that would make all this frustration worth it for Lestrade was if he was the one to arrest them.

"You've never called me 'boss' before," Lestrade pointed out as he walked around his car.

"Ah, well, look what happens when you're good!" Donovan told him and they both grinned before they began to walk on with the armed police.

"You know how most days aren't good days? This is a good day," Lestrade said with a grin as they walked through the door together.

"Not for the Waters family," Donovan told him with a large smile as they rounded the corner and Greg's phone beeped a text alert. He looked down towards his pocket and grimaced but then ignored it. Nothing was going to distract him now. "Okay, ten men on the roof; all exits covered; the bank's closed, so there are no hostages to worry about ...," Donovan said as Greg's phone beeped again. Again he grimaced and Sally looked round at him.

"Sorry, no, go on, go on," Lestrade told her quickly and she nodded slightly before continuing.

"Um, we've got the tunnel entrance covered; and Davies, Willard and Christie are heading up our Response on Mafeking Road," Donovan told him before Greg's phone beeped twice more. He finally took it from his pocket and stopped to look at it.

"Sorry, I'd better get this," Lestrade told her, realizing that no one would text him that much in such a quick succession unless it was an emergency.

"It's them, isn't it?" Donovan asked him as she continued onwards with the other officers. Greg's face filled with shock as he read the string of messages he had received:

**_HELP._**

**_BAKER ST._**

**_NOW._**

**_HELP ME._**

**_PLEASE._**

He looked up at Sally, feeling a pit form in his stomach as his veins turned ice cold in his horror.

"I-I, I have to go," Lestrade told her, shaking his head slightly as his voice shook.

"What?!" Donovan asked him loudly as she turned back in surprise.

"You make the arrest," Lestrade told her, still trying to calm himself down.

"No way!" Donovan told him, shaking her head in exasperation.

"Sorry. You'll be fine. I'm-I'm-I'm cool with this," Lestrade told her, shaking his head as he stumbled over his words again as his thoughts got drawn back to the text messages he had just received.

"Jones'll get all the credit if you leave now! You know he will!" Donovan told him and Greg hesitated, reluctant to give up his chance for success. Sherlock and Lexi needed him though and he owed it to them to listen to them when they needed him.

"Yeah, but d... It doesn't matter. I have to go," Lestrade told her and his phone beeped again before he could turn to hurry away.

**_Go, credit will go to who it is due. -JR_**

The text message was enough to convince Lestrade to leave that is if he needed anything else to convince him and he turned and hurried away. Sally watched him for a moment, grimacing, then continued on with the other officers. Outside, Greg was running for his car, making a phone call as he went. "Back-up. I need maximum back-up. Baker Street, now!" Lestrade shouted into his phone before he got into his car and speed off. He made it to the flat in record time, breaking nearly every speeding limit in the city. He hurriedly got out of his car, leaving his car door open as he rushed into the flat after knocking the door open forcefully. He raced up the stairs and pushed through the kitchen door and into the living room, waiting to find the worst.

"What's going on?" Lestrade asked breathlessly as he looked up to find Lexi sitting on the couch with her glasses on, reading calmly, and Sherlock sitting at the dining table, looking at his laptop. The fingers of both of his hands were pressed into his temples and Lexi seemed to be ignoring him.

"This is hard," Sherlock said as Lexi sighed and closed her book as she looked up at him.

"What?" Lestrade asked him in confusion as he looked around the flat, seeing that it looked completely normal. Lexi was wearing a tank top and long grey sweatpants under Sherlock's blue dressing gown while Sherlock was just sitting around in his normal suit, minus the jacket, and wearing a golden dressing gown which Lestrade knew Lexi had gotten him after they had returned to London six months before.

"Really hard. Hardest thing I've ever had to do besides proposing to Lexi," Sherlock said and Lexi giggled at that as she stood up and walked over to him, putting her hands on both of his shoulders.

"Oh and Serbia doesn't count?" Lexi asked him as she looked down at Sherlock and he tilted his head up to look at her and shook his head slightly. They made many references to cities or countries and Lestrade could only assume that they were referencing somewhere they had gone in the two years they were away. Sherlock lowered his hands and picked up a book, holding it up to show Greg. The book was called "How to write an unforgettable best man speech".

"Have you any funny stories about John?" Sherlock asked Lestrade and Greg stared at him in disbelief as Lexi leaned down and kissed him on the head. Outside, police cars were sirening their way into Baker Street and screeching to a halt. Lexi looked up and over at the window before looking back at Lestrade and rising her eyebrow.

"What?!" Lestrade asked in disbelief and exasperation and Sherlock handed the book to Lexi who flipped it open and skimmed through it as Sherlock looked up at him.

"I need anecdotes and Lexi is a terrible writer," Sherlock said and Lexi made an offended noise. Sherlock looked up at her and sighed before pulling her down onto his lap and kissing her cheek affectionately. She laughed before the two detectives looked back at Lestrade and seemed to notice his expression. "Didn't go to any trouble, did you?" Sherlock asked Lestrade over Lexi's shoulder as she leaned back and let him hold her and Greg stared at them, still breathing heavily. Outside, an ambulance was sirening its way up the road, and a helicopter could be heard approaching. Sherlock's eyes shifted sideways when he became aware of the noise outside for the first time and Lexi flicked her gaze back over to the windows as the curtains in the open window behind them billowed inwards as the helicopter hovered lower. Sherlock looked round as the billowing curtains knocked some sheet music off its stand and Greg closed his eyes in exasperation. How did he ever live without Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna?

**Lexi's POV**

It had been six months since Sherlock and I had returned to London and already we had fallen back into our daily routines. Life was different than before. John no longer lived at Baker Street as he had moved in with Mary but he and Mary were in the flat often enough. Sherlock and I were alone which we were more than fine with. We had come to being used to being with just each other over the two years we were away from London and well, it was nice to be able to sit around the flat and bask in each other's company. We could play the violin or viola whenever we felt like it and no one bothered us if we didn't eat or didn't sleep. Sherlock and I took the time to get used to having a normal life again. We still sometimes found it easier to sleep on the floor in front of the fire rather than in our bed. We took cases again and just tried to find our normal again. It was nice to be home but after everything we had gone through it was hard to work normally again. When you fought every day for your life or didn't know if you could lose each other that day, you clung to each other a little more at night, you made each moment you were together in safety count. We managed in the last six months to be able to sit across the living room from each other without anxiety, but we couldn't be away from each other or out of each other's sight yet. We had tried once, I attempted to go to the store while Sherlock stayed in the flat on one lazy afternoon but I got as far as the door before I had to go back upstairs to check to see if Sherlock was alright and I already found him half way down the stairs coming to find me. Over time we might be able to spend time apart again but I never wanted to be apart from Sherlock anyway. He was and always would be my heart and my life and I depended upon him for so much. I let him guard my life and he let me guard his. If we could ever trust anyone wholly and completely it was each other.

Christmas had been a rather large affair. If Sherlock and I thought our first Christmas party at 221B was crowded, the second was even worse. We couldn't exactly tell anyone no though. Sherlock and I had spent two day decorating the flat like Christmas elves and I even managed to get him into the Christmas spirt by singing carols with me. We felt like we had to make it up to everyone. John really didn't have a good Christmas without us, we only missed one, because he had been thinking back to the Christmas the year before when we were all together. The flat looked like it had thrown up or more like elves had thrown up on it. There were fairy lights strung up around the flat, tinsel, garland, and we even managed to fit a tree in the corner. We actually had fun with decorating the tree as I sang horrible renditions of songs to Sherlock and stuck Christmas bows on our heads. Mrs. Hudson had come upstairs while we weren't paying attention and she had caught us, snapping pictures which she sent to everyone. Sherlock had grabbed me around the waist and attacked me under the mistletoe and then we had a tinsel battle. The entire flat, including us were decorated by the time we were done. We sent out Christmas cards to everyone too. That had been my idea actually. I had gotten Sherlock to wear the reindeer antlers that Mrs. Hudson wanted to see him in so badly. I was wearing a Santa hat and dress as I got into the Christmas spirit, partially for Sherlock's benefit too as the dress was rather short. He had pouted at first when I went to take the picture but then I had jumped on his back and wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He looked back at me with a smirk as the picture was snapped and we both were laughing so much that it had come out perfectly. New to our Christmas party were Joanna, Mycroft, Mary, and Tom. The flat was rather crowded but it was an interesting night. It didn't get interrupted thankfully like our first party had.

**Flashback**

**Third Person POV**

_"Sherlock! They're here," Lexi shouted as she moved towards the door to the living room. "Oi!" She called again as Sherlock walked out from their bedroom._

_"Yes, yes," Sherlock told her as she shook her head at him and then darted over and kissed him quickly. She was dressed in her Christmas elf dress and Sherlock was rather interested in the view. She raised her eyebrow at him and Sherlock smirked at her before she rolled her eyes. _

_"Later!" She told him, smacking him in the arm before she walked over to greet their guests. "Happy Christmas!" Lexi shouted as Mary and John walked into the flat. John's mouth fell open and Mary's eyes widened in shock as they both took in the flat. Lexi hugged the still stunned couple as Sherlock stood back, not particularly happy in his hideous Christmas sweater that Lexi was making him wear. Reindeers did not belong with snowflakes on a red sweater. When had he ever worn a sweater? _

_"Ah…wow," John said as he helped Mary out of her coat. "You really…" He continued before his eyes landed on Sherlock. _

_"Shut up," Sherlock said before he turned around and picked up his violin and bow. _

_"We didn't say anything," Mary told him, frowning in confusion and Sherlock pointed his bow at her as he turned around again. _

_"You were thinking. It's distracting and annoying," Sherlock told her and she shook her head as Lexi ushered them inside. Mrs. Hudson walked out of the kitchen with a plate of gingerbread men. _

_"Ooo dears, there you are," Mrs. Hudson tittered as Mary and John gave her hugs. "Lexi was baking again," Mrs. Hudson told them as she put the cookies down next to various other things the Irish girl had baked which was a load of pastries and mince pies. _

_"I can see that," John said as footsteps on the stairs signalled more arrivals. Molly and Tom were next to arrive. _

_"The note on the door said to just come up so here we are," Molly said as she and Tom walked in. Lexi hugged Molly and then Tom before walking over to Sherlock who was sulking slightly at being ignored by her because of everyone else in the flat. She pecked him on the lips and Sherlock smiled slightly before he began playing Jingle Bells for her. She grinned and hugged him before going to greet Lestrade who had just walked in. _

_"Hello, hello," Lestrade said as he set down a large gift bag. "Bloody hell, what happened in here? It looks like a crime scene," Lestrade said and Lexi rolled her eyes at him as she hugged him. _

_"Well we could bring more festive cheer to them. Somehow tinsel on corpuses seems like something you would frown upon though." Lexi said and Lestrade snorted into his cup of eggnog that John had just handed him. He started to cough and choke over just how enthusiastic she actually sounded about that. "Oooo, Sherlock!" Lexi called excitedly across the room and he hummed, not stopping playing as he looked over at her over John and Molly's heads as they were talking in the middle of the living room. "Corpuses with Christmas bows on them! It really is Christmas!" Lexi said and everyone shuddered when Sherlock smiled manically. "Rocking around the dead bodies. Let the Christmas spirit ring! Later well deduce some prisoners and we'll do some carolling." She sang next with a merry grin._

_"So this is what happens when we leave you two alone," Mary mused as she sat down on the couch with a glass of white wine. _

_"Oh, far worse than that," Lexi told Mary with a laugh as she accepted a glass of Sangria from Lestrade. _

_"Yeah, you don't want to know what the kids get up to while you're gone," Joanna said as she walked into the room and mauled Lexi in a hug. She was wearing a Christmas elf outfit too. "Santa's helper here to help," Joanna said before she leaned back and pulled Mycroft into the room. Everyone snorted in some way or another. The British Government was wearing a Christmas sweater, in fact he was wearing one identical to Sherlock's. The Holmes' brothers meet each other's gaze and both grimaced before sharing looks of sympathy with each other. "Mistletoe!" Joanna said excitedly before she pulled Mycroft down and kissed him soundly. He made a surprised sound at the suddenness of it and then straightened up, grumbling as he straightened his sweater as if it was one of his suits. _

_"Joanna," Mycroft grumbled and she just grinned at him cheekily before she went to mingle with everyone else. _

_"Ah ha, Lestrade! Nice to put a face to a name," Joanna said as she hugged the D.I. It was the first time they had met and Lestrade would soon find out that Joanna was a hugger as well as a ball of energy. _

_"So you are the Joanna or British Security Service that's been keeping an eye on us all," Lestrade said and she shrugged at him with an innocent expression on her face. _

_"I monitor everything. Nothing happens that I don't know about," Joanna said before she wiggled her eyes at Lexi who just hit her playfully on the arm before handing her a glass of Sangria. Joanna saluted her with it before Lexi walked over to Sherlock and put down her wine glass, picking her viola up in the process. They began playing "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" together and the rest of the night continued. The Holmes' boys sat in the back corner, trying to fade into the background which was difficult with Lexi and Joanna there as well pulling them front and centre. _

_The rest of the night went smashingly. There were Christmas crackers and so much food. Mrs. Hudson and Lexi had been cooking since that morning and it was all delicious. Sherlock and Mycroft had to admit that much. After that they passed around gifts. John received jumpers, tea, mugs, and from Sherlock and Lexi, a New Year's trip to Paris for him and Mary. Mary received perfume, a variety of bath and body supplies, and from Sherlock and Lexi she received concert tickets for her and John. Mycroft got all manners of ties, pens, tie pins, and an umbrella from Lexi and Sherlock. Joanna was given a range of stuff from spy equipment to computer programs and then Lexi and Sherlock had given her two tickets to see Les Mis which had just come back to London again. Mycroft was very unhappy over this but Joanna was thrilled. Lestrade and Molly both got gifts to help them in their work but Tom got all generic gifts as no one really knew him yet. Mrs. Hudson was lavishly gifted by everyone as everyone loved her. Sherlock received a skull shirt from John along with violin strings. Lexi received a new red plaid scarf from John along with music sheets and Mary had given both her and Sherlock tickets to Dartmoor and reservations for them to stay at the same Bed and Breakfast from when they were working the Hound case. Joanna and Mycroft gifted them with 48 hour access to the labs at Baskerville. Lestrade gave them stacks of cold case files with the promise of more. Molly gifted them with two fresh cadavers to experiment on. Tom gave them matching tea mugs and Mrs. Hudson gave them a personalized towel set. After the gifts had been given out, Lexi forced everyone into watching the Christmas special of Doctor Who while they drank more eggnog and hot chocolate. Lexi and Sherlock curled up in their chair while John and Mary pulled his old chair next to theirs and copied them. Mrs. Hudson Joanna, and Molly took the couch while the boys sat at their feet. It was a brilliant night and no one could even remember when it was over that they had ever spent two Christmases without the two consulting detectives._

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I spent a quiet New Year's in the flat just the two of us. We received a text from an unknown number that simply said: **_Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. Let's have dinner. _**We shook our heads at that before settling in and finishing the night with a game of Cluedo. The victim finally was also the murderer. After New Year's my birthday quickly came around. Everyone made a big deal out of it because it was the first one of Sherlock and my birthdays since we had returned. We had another party, this time and John and Mary's house. They forced everyone into wearing birthday hats, mostly because they wanted to take pictures of Sherlock and I in hats. We didn't give them as much satisfaction as Sherlock and I acted like we weren't bothered by it. I received three years' worth of gifts because everyone wanted the make up for missing two of my birthdays. At thirty-five I was quite fine to have missed a few. I couldn't believe that I had spent four years with Sherlock now. I had met him and John just after my thirty first birthday and now four years later, we were still inseparable. Sherlock and I used our Christmas gift from Mary to take a little trip. Some of the things that happened in Baskerville we would never speak of to anyone. In the time since we had come back to London, between Christmas, New Year's and birthdays we helped plan John and Mary's wedding.

Today was the day. The day that it all came to one final crescendo was here and Sherlock and I were both nervous and excited. We had gotten up very early, having hardly slept actually, and we got the last few things done that we needed to before we were needed for what was probably going to be a very long day. My hair was down and held back with a thick black head band, elegant yet simple, but I was still in my pyjamas with Sherlock's, now my, blue dressing gown over it. Sherlock was wearing his gold dressing gown and he got up from his chair and walked over to the CD player and pressed play on it before walking over to where I was sitting in John's chair and offering me his hand. I took it and let him pull me to my feet before he pulled me close to him and we began waltzing around the living room as I giggled for a moment before leaning my head against Sherlock's shoulder and breathing in his scent deeply. He hummed along with the gentle waltz played by a violin and viola in harmony and the sound reverberated deeply within his chest. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the melody as we danced in time to the music. I opened my eyes when I heard the living room door open and Sherlock glanced over his shoulder when Mrs. Hudson walked in carrying a tray of tea things.

"Shut up, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said which earned him a disapproving look from me and a slight smack on his arm. I had gotten over hitting him so hard, but only because it was very hard to these days. Sherlock and I had grown far more affectionate with each other in the last six months than we had ever been before.

"I haven't said a word," Mrs. Hudson told him as she walked in and we both smiled at each other as she stood at the door with the tray.

"You're formulating a question," Sherlock said with a sigh as we continued to dance around the living room. "It's physically painful watching you think," Sherlock finished as we stopped dancing. I pulled him in for a kiss, shutting him up before we broke apart and I gave him a very pointed look of warning. Mrs. Hudson grinned happily as she watched us and giggled excitedly.

"I like it," I told Sherlock quietly and he smirked at me as he held my waist tightly and rubbed circles over my hip bones.

"Obviously," Sherlock told me quietly and I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head before grinning at him fondly. It was our gift to John and Mary, a song we composed for their first dance together as husband and wife. A little bit of a surprise we managed put together and now we were just seeing if there was any last minute changes that had to be made to it, any parts of it that didn't flow properly for a waltz. Today was finally the day John and Mary were getting married. He finally asked her and then Mary had roped me into helping her plan the wedding. Actually Sherlock had helped plan it too at Mary's insistence. She wanted our opinion on everything and wanted to make sure we loved it as much as she did. Of course it was her and John's wedding and hardly matter to us, but it was important to her so we obliged.

"I thought it was you two playing," Mrs. Hudson remarked as I pecked Sherlock and the cheek before stepping back from him. Sherlock gestured to a music player on the dining table as I leaned my head against his shoulder and he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"It was us playing," Sherlock told her slightly irritably and I raised my head from his shoulder as he picked up the remote control on the dining table and switched off the music player. He bent down, letting go of my hand briefly as he made a notation on the sheet music lying on the table before he had me look it over. I nodded at him in agreement with the slight change and committed it to memory. "We're composing," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson as she walked over to John's chair and put her tray down on the table beside it.

"You were dancing," Mrs. Hudson told us and I looked back at her and nodded as I hummed slightly and turned to look back at Sherlock. I was rather fond of dancing with Sherlock, he was an excellent dancer and it was one of his hidden guilty pleasures. Of course he hadn't told me that before in an attempt to get me to teach him. That lesson had ended with Mycroft almost getting killed by a pair of flying shoes.

"We were road-testing," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson as he looked up at me and smiled slightly.

"You what?" Mrs. Hudson asked us with a grin on her face and I sighed slightly.

"Last minute checks," I answered her as I flicked a look up at Sherlock.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as he threw down his pen and turned to her. I smacked him lightly on the arm and he sighed and looked down at me. I only had to raise my eyebrow at him slightly and he nodded at me before looking away again, sliding his arm around my waist and pulling me closely to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tucked my head under his chin.

"I'm bringing you two your morning tea," Mrs. Hudson told him as she poured some milk into the two teacups. "You two aren't usually awake," Mrs. Hudson said and I looked up at Sherlock conspiratorially. Actually, we normally were awake. We just liked to be lazy and lay in bed together for hours, just enjoying the fact that we could just lay there together.

"You bring us tea in the morning?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as he walked over to his chair, taking me with him by bending down slightly and picking me up before sitting and placing me in his lap. I giggled slightly and righted myself and he rubbed my arm lightly as I snuggled against his chin.

"Well, where d'you think it came from?!" Mrs. Hudson asked Sherlock in surprise as she poured the tea into the teacups, throwing us a soft look when she looked up at us and saw how we were sitting. She seemed to never tire in getting to see Sherlock and I sitting together and being so affectionate with one another. Sherlock was still exactly the same man as when I met him, the only thing now is that he had learnt to care about me because he had finally let me in. He realized that he could trust me and trust that I wouldn't leave him or judge him like everyone else did. To him I was an open book and now he was one for me too. Trust and faith in each other was enough to break down those walls we had both built. I had slipped through to the inside but everyone else was forced to stand outside those walls.

"Magic," I told Mrs. Hudson with a laugh before I looked to Sherlock who I had just gotten to watch to Harry Potter movies after I read all of the books to him. He actually enjoyed them despite his complaining and telling me how things could have never happened in some ways or picking holes at plot elements. I had of course smacked him and told him not to ruin it for me.

"I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson and I snorted at that and kissed him on the cheek affectionately.

"Your mother has a lot to answer for," Mrs. Hudson said as she took a cup and saucer for each of us over to us.

"Mm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file," Sherlock told her as we took our tea from her and I laughed at that.

"And I remember the master list for the both of them," I added, gesturing to my head before I took a sip of my tea. Not exactly as good as John's and from the look on Sherlock's face, he agreed. I kissed him again and he smiled slightly at me. Mrs. Hudson giggled and sat down in John's chair.

"So – it's the big day, then!" Mrs. Hudson said excitedly as she looked between the two of us and I nodded at her.

"What big day?" Sherlock asked her, acting oblivious as he took a sip of tea. We were very much aware of what day it was.

"The wedding! John and Mary getting married!" Mrs. Hudson told us and I smiled at her. Yes, our army doctor was all grown up. Sherlock and I were quite happy for him. I knew Sherlock was worried though. He was worried that we were going to lose John after he got married but I knew that was never a possibility. In the last six months John, Sherlock, and I still worked cases together. It was like old times, not exactly but very close. Sherlock and I worked a few cases alone, but we had our army doctor back.

"Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as he looked over his tea cup at her.

"And Sherlock keeps calling it a sex holiday. Then again this is John were talking about," I mused and Mrs. Hudson watched us closely as I set my tea cup down and snuggled against Sherlock who stayed still until I was finished settling in and then wrapped his arm around me tightly, resting his chin against the top of my head.

"Are you quite finished woman?" He asked me and despite the annoyed tone, I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice. He always complained that I squirmed whenever I sat with him and that I never could just get comfortable and stay that way. I grinned and scooted around for a few extra seconds.

"Hmm," I hummed as I snuggled closer to him and then stopped before frowning then shaking my head and snuggling a bit more. "Nope, now I think I am," I told him, giggling slightly and he sighed before leaning down and kissing the top of my head. He smiled fondly down at me when he lifted his head though and Mrs. Hudson watched the both of us with a soft expression on her face.

"It changes people, marriage," Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at us and I knew what she was referring to, our sort of almost marriage. We still hadn't gotten around to making it official yet. It just…there were a lot of reasons for it.

"Mmm, no it doesn't," Sherlock said, his voice reverberating in his chest and I hummed happily and snuggled closer to him again.

"Well, look at the two of you. You're closer with each other than you were before, looking at you two you would think you were the same person with how in sync the pair of you are," Mrs. Hudson said as Sherlock lifted his tea cup to his mouth again, but stopped momentarily to look at her.

"Your husband was executed for double murder. You're hardly an advert for companionship," Sherlock told her pointedly as I flicked a look up at him as he drank his tea.

"Marriage changes you as a person, in ways that you can't imagine. You two have both changed, everyone's noticed it," Mrs. Hudson told us and I looked over at her as she watched us closely, smiling at me.

"As does lethal injection," Sherlock said, smiling pointedly at the older woman and I sighed slightly as I sat up a bit and studied the older woman for a minute.

"If we've changed it's been because of the last two years. Marriage does change people yes, if anything you learn to rely upon someone else, learn to care more about someone else, but you never change exactly who you are," I told Mrs. Hudson before looking back up at Sherlock. I never wanted to change him. I loved him exactly how he was.

"Well, my best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid," Mrs. Hudson told us as Sherlock rolled his eyes and put his cup down next to mine on the table beside us. He kept one arm around me as he played with my hair gently with his other hand. In the last six months, my hair had grown back to its old length completely. He was happy that it was back to normal. John had been so shocked after he finally got to sit down with us after we found the bomb that my hair was so short. Course he had hardly noticed with him trying to kill us and then with the bomb and almost getting killed by someone we still hadn't found. It was the shortest John had ever seen my hair and he confessed that he liked it when it was longer. Like Sherlock he thought I just didn't look right with shorter hair. "We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that," Mrs. Hudson said and I got up as Sherlock nudged me slightly. I knew that this was a bad subject to be talking about.

"Aren't there usually biscuits?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson as he stood up before he slid me back into the seat. I crossed my legs at my knees and bounced my foot as I stared up at him.

"I've run out," Mrs. Hudson told him, barely getting the hint.

"Have the shops?" Sherlock asked her as he pointedly walked towards the door.

"She cried the whole day, saying, "Ooh, it's the end of an era,"" Mrs. Hudson told us and I stood up, walking over to Sherlock who shot me a pleading look. He didn't want to be hearing this and neither did I really.

"I'm sure the shop on the corner is open," Sherlock said, gesturing to the stairs as Mrs. Hudson ignored him and just continued talking.

"She was probably right, really," Mrs. Hudson said and Sherlock closed his eyes and grimaced. I stood next to him and made him turn towards me before reaching up and cupping his cheek in the palm of my hand, rubbing my thumb along his cheek bone before I traced over his lips. He kissed my fingertips as he took a deep breath.

_'I love you,'_ I told Sherlock with just my eyes and he nodded at me slightly.

_'I know. I love you too,'_ Sherlock said as he nuzzled his face into my hand a bit and I grinned up at him fondly.

"I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?" Mrs. Hudson continued and she shook her head. "So sad," Mrs. Hudson finished and Sherlock hummed as he took my hand from his face and kissed the back of it before he laced his fingers with mine and held my hand tightly in his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

"Anyway, you've got things to do," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson, trying to get her out of the flat now.

"No, not really. I've got plenty of time to ...," Mrs. Hudson started before Sherlock interrupted her.

"Biscuits," Sherlock told her sternly before adding. "Lexi is a bit pale this morning, she needs to eat," Sherlock told her and she got out of her chair, tutting as she looked me over. I only looked pale because there hadn't been enough sun. I was also Irish.

"I really am going to have a word with your mother," Mrs. Hudson said as she walked over to the door and I laughed at that. Mummy would love that. Since our return we had gone to see them at her insistence since she wanted to see us for more than just a few hours and she had taken to acting like a mother to me as well. Papa Holmes and I had become the best of friends and he reminded me of Alistair. I loved having them as parents now.

"You can if you like. She understands very little," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson before he closed the door on her. He turned around, sighing, before he stepped closer to me again and slipped his hands around my waist, resting his forehead against mine. I brought my arms up around his neck and played with the hair at the base of his neck. He looked over my shoulder at John's chair for a few moments before he bent down and kissed me slowly. It was sweet and gentle, not heated. I pulled back and then pressed another kiss to Sherlock's lips and he smiled slightly. He took my hand and then we walked through the kitchen and down the hallway to our bedroom together.

"Right, then," Sherlock said as we let go of each other's hands and took our dressing gowns off. We walked through our bedroom to our wardrobe where his morning suit was hanging from the open door and where my yellow sundress was waiting for me. I would change into my dress for the wedding after but for now I had to get ready in something. "Into battle," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him as we both took our clothes off of the door.

"Once more onto the breach," I told Sherlock before we both started getting dressed. I took of my pants before I felt Sherlock's hands on the exposed skin of my waist. I looked back at him as he wrapped his arms around me and rested his forehead on my shoulder and raised my eyebrow at him slightly. "Like something you see?" I asked him and he nodded, smirking at me slightly.

"Obviously," He whispered into my ear and I shivered. "Can't we be a little late?" Sherlock asked me and I shook my head at him and giggled.

"Sorry, no. Mary would kill us and then John would dance over our graves," I told him and he sighed at me. "Maybe later if you're good," I told him with a wicked grin and he grinned at me, his eyes darkening slightly.

"I'll hold you to that," Sherlock told me, a promise in his voice and I turned around in his arms and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Only if you'll hold me too," I told him and he growled slightly before he kissed me fiercely. I groaned as we had to break apart for air. "Ugh, darn Mary and John," I told Sherlock and he chuckled lowly before he reached down and helped me out of my bed shirt which didn't help matters. I picked my dress up from the bed and gave Sherlock a pointed look before walked out of our bedroom with it.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked me and I stopped and looked back at him.

"The bathroom. I don't trust you to keep your hands off and I can't guarantee that I'll make you," I told Sherlock before I went and closed myself into the bathroom. I pulled my dress over the lingerie set Mary had me buy for this specific day. I brushed my hair out, not too worried about it right now since Mary insisted on doing it for me once we got to Bristol where the wedding and reception was taking place. I left the bathroom and walked back into our bedroom just as Sherlock was tucking his shirt into his trousers. He looked up as soon as I entered our room again and I walked over to him, turning around. "Can you zip me please?" I asked him and he nodded at me as I looked over my shoulder at him. He kissed my shoulder blades as he zipped my dress up and I raised my eyebrow at him as he just shot me a wicked grin.

I shook my head before picking up his suit jacket and holding it up for him as he slid his arms into it. He brought it into place and buttoned it before I picked up his tie and put it on him before tying it for him. He kissed me once it was in place and then he pulled his mobile out of his trouser pocked as I straightened his tie and brushed the shoulders of his jacket off. He grimaced before hitting his brother's speed dial, putting his mobile on speaker. He knew that I would step in if Mycroft started taking jibes at his intelligence or generally tried to make any comments. Mycroft picked up after a long moment and there was some sort of rhythmic noise in the background of the call. I frowned at Sherlock and he mouthed the word "Treadmill" to me. I bit my lip to stop from giggling and shook my head at Sherlock.

"Yes, what, Sherlock?" Mycroft answered breathlessly.

"Why are you out of breath?" Sherlock asked his brother, smirking at me as he wrapped his arm around my waist and rubbed his thumbs over my sides. I raised my eyebrow at him again and shook my head slightly as I grinned at him fondly.

"Filing," Mycroft lied and I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.

"With Joanna?" I asked Mycroft and he groaned slightly, not helping his case at all. Sherlock kissed the top of my head in triumph.

"Either we've caught you in a compromising position or you've been working out again. I favour the former," Sherlock said with a gleeful look in his eyes as he got to embarrass his brother. I of course did nothing to help deter him from this as I chuckled slightly.

"What do you two want?" Mycroft asked the both of us in exasperation.

"We need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency," Sherlock told him, referencing the fact that Mycroft had yet to answer is invitation to John and Mary's wedding. I knew that Joanna would get him there somehow even if she had to threaten him. Joanna had become really good friends with Mary over the last six months and she was one of Mary's bridesmaids.

""Answer"?" Mycroft asked us, pretending he had no idea what we were talking about and I snorted at that.

"Don't play stupid Croft, it doesn't become you," I told him as Sherlock leaned down and kissed me soundly, not caring that we were on the phone with his brother.

"Even at the eleventh hour it's not too late, you know," Sherlock told his brother as we broke apart and he smirked at my slightly dazed expression. I circled my arms around his waist and tucked my head under his chin and he hummed affectionately, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held the phone out near us.

"Oh, Lord," Mycroft sighed.

"Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered," Sherlock told his brother as I looked up at him and smirked.

"Funerals can be arranged," I added with a laugh. "Joanna will kill you if you aren't there," I told Mycroft pointedly. John was friends with Joanna too and he had once told me that he never wanted to get on her bad side. She scared him slightly and rightly so.

"Today. It's today, isn't it? No, Sherlock, Lexi, I will not be coming to the "night do", as you so poetically put it," Mycroft told us and I narrowed my eyes at the phone. Oh, he would not be getting out of this that easily. His fiancée might have other ideas.

"What a shame," Sherlock said insincerely. "Mary and John will be extremely d...,"

"...delighted not to have me hanging around," Mycroft finished, interrupting him.

"Oh, I don't know. There should always be a spectre at the feast," Sherlock said, making a Harry Potter reference. I knew he was comparing his brother to the Fat Friar. I shook my head at him and kissed his jaw bone.

"So, this is it, then. The big day. Getting any ideas of your own or will I be seeing a lot more of you two from now on?" Mycroft asked us and I gritted my teeth slightly.

"Well, we would be married by now if you would just make our marriage official," I pointed out to Mycroft and he snorted into the phone.

"And take away Mummy's only chance to see one of her sons get married? Hardly," Mycroft told me and I smiled slyly.

"Oooh and is she not going to see you and Joanna get married. If I remember correctly, you are engaged too," I told Mycroft and he cleared his throat slightly. "Joanna isn't going to wait for ever and this wedding is just going to give her ideas," I told Mycroft, knowing exactly how Joanna thought. She wasn't going to wait years until Mycroft got around to planning their wedding.

"Yes, well, it's the end of an era, isn't it? John and Mary – domestic bliss," Mycroft said, changing the subject away from his own nuptials quickly.

"No, no, no – we prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter," Sherlock corrected his brother with a slight frown on his face. There was a moment of silence on the other line and I could just see Mycroft smiling. "What?" Sherlock asked him, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Nothing!" Mycroft answered quickly, a bit sarcastically.

"I know that silence. What?" Sherlock asked him as I looked at the phone.

"Well, I'd better let you two get back to it. You have a big speech, or something today, don't you?" Mycroft asked Sherlock, trying to change the subject again.

"What?" Sherlock asked him once more and I calmed him by rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.

"Croft," I warned his brother, knowing that he was about to do something I definitely didn't approve of. I didn't put it past Mycroft to try and ruin this day slightly for Sherlock. This was our best friends getting married. Sherlock came to really like Mary and she and I were friends just like we had been before. We both had changed a lot in seven years and something was still slightly off about her which was new, but we had and always would be friends.

"Cake, karaoke ... mingling," Mycroft continued and that was when Sherlock had enough of his games.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted angrily and Mycroft sighed slightly.

"This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married and you are no different. I warned you, don't get involved," Mycroft said and I glared at the phone. Oh, I remembered this conversation well and I didn't like it then and still didn't now.

"Involved? We're not involved," Sherlock told his brother angrily as he looked at me and shook his head.

"No," Mycroft said disbelievingly.

"John asked me to be his best man and Mary asked Lexi to be her maid of honour. How could we say no?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as he pulled me closer to him and held onto me as he tried to calm himself down.

"Absolutely!" Mycroft said insincerely.

"We're not involved!" Sherlock shouted at Mycroft.

"I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best," Mycroft told us insincerely as I got my own mobile out and texted Joanna to go and yelled at Mycroft for me. I told her he was trying to ruin the wedding for us and she texted me back saying his arse was toast.

"We will," Sherlock told his brother before he lowered the phone, about to switch it off when Mycroft spoke again.

"Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard?" Mycroft asked Sherlock and his jaw tightened as his hold on my waist got a bit tighter as well. That was beyond low. I knew the entire story about Redbeard. Sherlock had told me himself in those two years we were gone, about how Redbeard had been his first mate when he played pirates. His parents gave him Redbeard for Christmas the year Mycroft went off to boarding school so he would have someone to play with and then Redbeard got sick when Sherlock was sixteen and they had to put him down. It devastated Sherlock and that was when he stopped caring.

"I'm not a child any more, Mycroft," Sherlock told his brother coldly and I reached up at carded my fingers through his hair soothingly.

"No, of course you're not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock," Mycroft said before we both heard the door to whatever room he was in burst open.

"Mycroft bloody Holmes!" We heard Joanna shout before they're was a loud ruckus on the other end of the room and the scraping of a chair. We both heard the mobile drop and then the sound of someone getting smacked repeatedly. "How dare you!" Joanna shouted in the distance as Mycroft now doubt tried to get away from the short ball of fury. We heard someone groan loudly as there was the sound of something hitting the floor and then the phone was picked up. "Taken care of," Joanna told me brightly and I chuckled slightly.

"You're sitting on him aren't you?" I asked her, deducing what had happened from what I heard.

"Yup," She told me excitedly before I heard the muffled sound of Mycroft in the background. "You deserve it, don't complain. Besides, I'm not that heavy," Joanna said, pulling away from the phone. "You were being a prat," Joanna answered whatever he had just asked her. "You two better get moving. I just talked with Mary and she is having a nervous breakdown," Joanna told me and I nodded at that.

"I figured. We're leaving now," I assured her and there was a sound of rustling on the other side of the phone. Unknown to us, Mycroft had managed to get up and he was now sitting on the floor with Joanna in his lap, holding her tightly to him.

"Roads are clear and the car should be pulling up outside Baker Street about now," Joanna told me and I laughed at that.

"Thanks Joanie," I told her and I could hear the shrug in her voice when she answered me.

"And this is why I get paid the big bucks," She said and Sherlock shook his head before he hung up. He looked down at me for a moment before looking away and I knew that he was thinking over what Mycroft had said and what Mrs. Hudson had said earlier.

"Sherlock, look at me," I said as I reached up and turned his head so that he was looking back at me. The look in his eyes nearly broke my heart. "Don't listen to them love. This is John, our John, our army doctor and our blogger. Nothing is going to change. He is still the John Watson we met three years ago, the John Watson we solved cases with and lived with. None of that is going to change. The only thing that's changing is that he's getting married and that's okay. Change is good and it isn't always bad. He's still going to solve cases with us and just because he's getting married doesn't mean he is going to stop being our friend," I assured Sherlock before I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him soundly. "I found my Sherlock and he found his Mary. We've gotten married already, it's just his turn now and I bet he could use his best man right now," I told Sherlock, kissing him again and he sighed heavily and bent down, leaning his head into the crook of my neck as I carded my fingers through his curls. "I love you," I told Sherlock as he straightened up and nodded at me.

"And I you," He told me and I rewarded him with a dazzling smile.

"Obviously," I told Sherlock with a laugh and he chuckled with me. "Now, let's go save John Watson," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me in agreement.

"John Watson, our John Watson," Sherlock mused and he smirked down at me. "The game is on!" Sherlock shouted and I laughed loudly before letting him pull me out of our room. Today was going to be just perfect.


	92. My Life And My Everything

**Hello sweeties. So the chapter you have all been waiting for is finally here. So...Allonsy. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninty- My Life And My Everything<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

It took us just over an hour from London to get to Bristol. We were taken to Goldney Hall Orangery where Mary and John had booked rooms for all of the guests and where the wedding reception would take place later. The actual wedding was being held at St. Mary Magdalene Church a short distance from Goldney Hall. We went straight upstairs after having a little snog outside in the rose garden as we took a turn about it to stretch our legs after the car ride and knocked on the two separate doors. The bride and groom opened their doors, John and Mary both wearing dressing gowns and not even ready just yet. Sherlock would finish getting ready with John and I had about an hour or two of torture that I was about to endure. Mary had insisted on me getting ready here so that nothing would happen to my dress from Baker Street to Bristol and she wanted to be the one to do my hair and makeup even after I told her that I should worrying about doing that for her instead as it was her wedding day. She pulled a face though and used the bride's orders card to get me to agree to it.

"Thank God you're here," Mary said as I hugged her and then John who were staying in their doorways so that they couldn't see each other.

"Of course we're here," I told them with a laugh. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," I assured them as Sherlock nodded as I moved back beside him, slipping my hand into his and rubbing his knuckles lightly with my thumb. He glanced down at me as Mary and John smiled at us brightly. I frowned when they both suddenly got a look on their faces. It wasn't a look that bode well for us. They were up to something.

"That's not just why we're glad you're here," John told us carefully and I raised my eyebrow at him. He quickly looked down, not meeting my gaze and I looked up at Sherlock and raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He shook his head at me, telling me he had no idea what they were talking about either. "Now, don't freak out or get angry…," John told us and Sherlock and I raised our eyebrows at him in unison. No sentence that started with that ever ended well.

"What did you do?" I asked John and Mary as I threw them both pointed looks and Mary cleared her throat awkwardly.

"We might have done something a bit not good," John told us and my eyebrow raised higher towards my hairline as Sherlock and I deduced them. They weren't kidding. Whatever they had done, they were really nervous about telling us and afraid of our reactions.

"Mary, John," I said addressing both of our friends. "What did you do?" I asked them again and Mary made a bad face as I crossed my arms over my chest, Sherlock and I both looking at them sternly. I was worried that they had done something stupid like eloped or something or decided to call off the wedding at the very last moment.

"Mary…," John said, clearing his throat and I looked at the blonde woman for an explanation, tapping my foot as I waited.

"Why do I have to tell them!?" Mary asked John, nearly leaning forward so she could look at him before she stopped herself.

"It was your idea!" John argued and Mary shrugged slightly.

"Well yeah, it was a good idea of course it was mine," Mary said and John snorted at that. "Still, why do I have to be the one to tell them!?" Mary asked him again and John chuckled slightly as he threw Sherlock and me a look.

"Because they look like they might kill me right now," John said, nervously watching the two of us as we stood there, waiting for them to tell us what was going on.

"Someone tell us already!" I told them and Mary nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Well," Mary started and she swallowed, taking in Sherlock and my expressions of irritation before she continued. "And remember we love the both of you very much…," Mary reminded us first and I gestured for her to just spit it out. "…we might have planned a double wedding," Mary told us flinching as Sherlock and I stared at her and John in shock.

"WHAT?!" We both shouted loudly as my arms fell to my sides. Sherlock and I looked at each other before taking a slight step away from each other, shock and confusion written all over both of our faces.

"Surprise!" Joanna suddenly shouted as she appeared behind us. We turned round to look at her and she started laughing manically. "Oh my God, your faces!" Joanna laughed, clutching her side as she doubled over. "I can't breathe!" Joanna said, still laughing as she pointed at us and I pinched the bridge of my nose, waiting for her to finish as Sherlock shot her a look of exasperation. "Oh, that's priceless. I wish I had a picture of that. Oh wait, I do," Joanna said, calming down and then pointing up at the camera in the hallway. "Scrapbooking that one," She told us, shaking her head. "Now, wipe those looks off your faces," Joanna told us before smiling gleefully, a look you never wanted to see on her face. Joanna only looked gleeful on three occasions, when she got to go over someone's head, when she was planning murder, or a combination of the both. "It's a shotgun wedding," Joanna told us and I sighed heavily and closed my eyes in exasperation. "Well, not actually, but I can go get a gun if I need to," Joanna assured us and I opened my eyes. "They're all yours," Joanna told Mary and John over our shoulders and they grabbed the both of us and pulled us into their separate rooms. Sherlock and I managed to look at each other once as we both made strangled noises and our faces were identical expressions of terror. "Tootle loo," Joanna told us with a wave as she stood guard out in the hall and Mary closed the door, blocking me in.

"Mary!" I shouted at her loudly. "What the actual fuck?" I asked her as she stood in front of the door so that I couldn't escape. "What the hell were you thinking?" I asked Mary in exasperation as I took a brief glance around her room. Her dress was hanging up against the door to the bathroom and an entire table was covered in copious amounts of beauty supplies. Oh, it all made since now. Everything that had been odd over the last few months. How she and John wanted our help planning their wedding and why she wanted me to get ready here instead of at Baker Street. They had been planning this all since the very beginning.

"Just calm down," Mary told me, holding her hands up pacifyingly as we suddenly heard banging coming from the next room and then Sherlock's voice coming through the walls. I knew he was feeling exactly how I was right now.

"I am calm!" I shouted at Mary and she pursed her lips and gave me a pointed look. "Okay, maybe not calm. Try to imagine that as if I wasn't shouting," I told her before I sighed and sat down on one of the chairs which was turned, facing the door. "Seriously May, what is this?" I asked Mary, reverting back to using her nickname as I pinched the bridge of her nose. "And it better be a good explanation," I warned her, feeling only slightly angry. You didn't just spring a wedding on someone out of the blue without asking first.

"John and I knew that you were never going to have a wedding of your own. He knows you two. He knew that there was always going to be some case that came up or some reason why you two couldn't get married. Even if you chose a date, you would probably forget your own wedding if there was suddenly a double homicide," Mary started and I rolled my eyes at her. She had a point though. "We thought you and Sherlock deserved a proper wedding and we couldn't get married knowing that you two hadn't gotten married first. John told me about everything, how you two were acting around each other during that Blind Banker case and about Irene. He knew there was one day you would make sure you had free, his wedding day. After everything that happened he knew you would never be able to miss it. It was the only time we could think of and we had to make it a surprise because we knew you both would pitch a fit," Mary continued and I nodded at her. We would, because we had our reasons to. "So, we planned a double wedding. It wasn't easy keeping it a secret either. We had to have others help us and then we didn't know what you might like so I sort of forced you into helping me choose things. We thought you two were going to figure it out then," Mary told me with an anxious look.

"So we inadvertently planned our own wedding too? " I asked Mary and she nodded at me, smiling brightly.

"Clever right?" Mary asked me and I smiled slightly and nodded. It was actually. "That was actually John's idea," Mary told me and I laughed before I quieted and shook my head, standing up and crossing my arms over my chest again in more of a self-comforting gesture.

"It is, it's brilliant, but we can't do this Mary," I told her firmly, needing her to understand this.

"What?" Mary asked me as she frowned. "But this is Sherlock, your Sherlock. You two are practically the world's cutest couple. You've said it yourself that you wanted to make it official," Mary argued with me and I nodded at her.

"Yes and that isn't the point. The point isn't if we love each other enough to get married," I told Mary as I started pacing. "Sherlock is and always will be the one I want to spend my life with."

"Then what's the problem?" Mary asked me in confusion and I sighed again before looking at her and shrugging.

"Us," I told Mary before we both turned and looked at the wall as more banging started. We both heard John shout Sherlock's name and I sighed, knowing that things weren't going so well in there. Sherlock was probably panicking and John would be no help in that situation. He didn't know how to calm Sherlock down or talk to him when he was worked up. "Mary, Sherlock and I can't get married in front of so many people. We were going to just elope but we couldn't do that to John after he missed our first wedding and Mycroft made sure we couldn't. He has this official order that we can't get married unless in a full ceremony. No legal official can marry us by orders of the British Government unless we actually have a big wedding. So, Sherlock and I said why the need for paper? We already live like we're married, act like we're married. Whether our first marriage was legal or not, it still is to us. I'm already his wife in Sherlock's eyes. And don't lie, I know his parents are here. We can't go out there and it isn't a question if we love each other enough to get married or not. Sherlock's already promised me forever. We aren't leaving each other ever again," I assured Mary. Once had been enough and I kept my promise. I never left him. I went with him and I got us out of it together like I told him I would. No matter what happened to us we would go through it together.

"Well," Joanna said as she slipped into the room, closing the door behind her as she stood next to Mary. "Sherlock is causing a general ruckus. And don't you go getting any ideas MacKenna. I've got someone else guarding the doors," Joanna told me as she pointed at me accusingly and I rolled my eyes at her. "It's time to put your big girl panties on," Joanna told me and I shook my head at her ruefully. "You and Sherlock are tying the knot," Joanna told me and I threw my hands in the air.

"I don't even have a dress," I pointed out and Joanna smiled at me gleefully and I bit my cheek, not liking that look again.

"Haha. Yes you do," Joanna told me as if she had been dying to tell me that. "I chose it and Mycroft paid for it. It's a perfect system," Joanna told me and I sighed. Well, they had thought of everything hadn't they the bloody little blighters.

"Let me talk to Sherlock then," I told the both of them and Joanna and Mary exchanged a look.

"Nope, it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," Joanna told me, shaking her head and I gave her a firm look.

"Well then you already have a problem because Sherlock's already seen me today," I told her and she laughed at that.

"You weren't a bride then, now you are," Joanna argued and I sighed loudly in exasperation.

"He isn't going to calm down until I talk to him," I told her and she bit her lip because she knew I was right. "We barely leave each other's sight for more than a few seconds. He's not only going to be freaking out from you lot springing this on us but we're also out of each other's sight. After everything that happened… it's stressful for the both of us, John has PTSD from the war but Sherlock and I were in a different type of war for two years and we only had each other…he's going to freak out more because you pulled me away from him," I told them and Mary and Joanna both made 'O' expressions on their faces as they realized what I was saying. "It's hard for us, even six months later. Out of sight meant one of us could possibly be dead. We watched each other's backs for two years and that need to make sure he's alive still is here. It's worse for him because he did almost lose me more than once," I admitted to them and Mary and Joanna blinked back at me in shock as it was the first time they were hearing this. We never did tell them that we both had almost died. Sherlock once, and me almost twice. I nearly lost Sherlock, that need to protect him was never going to go away.

"Go," Mary told me urgently as she and Joanna stepped aside. "We're sorry, we didn't think," Mary apologized and I gave her a hug. "We only wanted you two to have the wedding you deserve," Mary told me and I squeezed her tighter.

"I'm not mad at you May, you either Joanie," I told my two best girlfriends. I couldn't say they were my best friends anymore. I had more friends now than I ever imagined, so many people I never thought considered me a friend, but my best friend would always be Sherlock. "Give us a few minutes," I told Mary, not promising anything and she opened the door for me with a nod. I slipped into the hall to find Mycroft leaning up against the wall between the two rooms his hands folded in front of him. I snorted and rolled my eyes at him. Of course he knew…bastard. "End of an era is it then?" I asked him and he sighed loudly. "I knew that Joanna would get you here in the end," I told him, smirking at him.

"I believe you have a reason for being out of that room," Mycroft said, changing the subject and I nodded at him.

"Yup, possibly solving John's murder," I told Mycroft and he gave me a knowing look. I knocked on John's door and waited as there was a loud rush and the sound of a struggle behind the door. John opened the door and poked his head out as he struggled it seemed to keep Sherlock behind the door and in the room. Mycroft shuffled behind me, ready in case he needed to stop his brother. "Mary sent me over. Can you give us a few minutes alone?" I asked John and he nodded at me as Sherlock stopped struggling at having heard my voice.

"Erm, sure," John told me as he quickly stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him, holding onto the door knob as he caught his breath slightly. "Are you mad at us?" John asked me and I shook my head at him.

"No, I'm not mad, surprised yes. Like I told Mary, we're not used to being away from each other for more than a few seconds. Kind of not the best idea to be out of each other's sight when you're going after killers," I told him and he looked up in surprise as he suddenly got what I meant too. "I make no promises," I told him before he stepped out of my way. I sighed and opened the door, slipping inside the room.

I found Sherlock pacing up and down the length of the room. His hair was a mess as if he had been pulling at it and running his fingers through it repeatedly. He looked to me as soon as I closed the door and he walked quickly towards me and captured my lips in an anxious kiss. It was frantic and needy, the both of us clinging to one another as I slipped my tongue into Sherlock's mouth as he sighed slightly in relief in the middle of our kiss. Sherlock pulled my closer to him by my hips and I ran my fingers through his hair which always made him feel better. Sherlock groaned slightly as we broke apart and he lowered his head and pressed it into the crook of my neck. I hummed soothing to him and murmured soothingly at him.

"Hey, it's alright love. I'm here," I assured Sherlock as he clutched me tightly. "Shush, it's alright. I'm okay love," I told him as he breathed in, his breath catching in his throat and I realized he was crying slightly. "Sweetie," I said, pulling him over to John's bed and I sat the both of us down as Sherlock held me for dear life. I pulled his face up to mine and wiped his eyes with my thumbs, kissing his eyelids as he breathed in shallowly.

This was the Sherlock I saw and right now, he was letting himself feel. I knew it had scared him as soon as he was away from me. He must have fought John to get to me. John would have assumed that he was trying to make a break for it and would have kept him back which only made things worse. He wouldn't have seen John, his friend, he would have seen John, someone keeping him from me. He probably used some very not nice words while talking to John which is why the army doctor had been so worried that I would be mad at him too. But now, when it was just me, Sherlock could finally let it out.

"Shezza," I whispered and his eyes snapped open. He looked at me before kissing me roughly and hungrily and he pulled me nearly on top of him as his fingers started nimbly pulling the zipper of my dress down. "Sweetie, as much as I want to reassure myself that you are really here too, I don't think John and Mary would appreciate us shagging in their room," I told Sherlock, pulling him up as he tried to kiss down my neck. "Is breá liom tú," [I love you] I told Sherlock in Gaelic and he sighed. I tucked my head under his chin and rubbed his arm soothingly. "It's okay, we're both okay," I told him and he nodded.

"I know," Sherlock told me hoarsely. "Lexi…," Sherlock said and I shushed him.

"I know love. I know and it's alright. I don't think I can either," I told him, understanding how he felt. Sherlock shook his head and I pulled back, looking up at him in confusion.

"'That's not what I meant," Sherlock told me slowly and I tilted my head to the side as I studied him. "I want this. I didn't… I couldn't listen to John before because I was more concerned about you, but thinking about it now, I want this," Sherlock told me before he slid out from under me and stood up as I watched him, not thinking I had heard him right. He started pacing the length of the room and I could see that he was thinking it over. "I want to be able to call you mine. I want to call you my wife and have it be true. I want other men to know you're mine," Sherlock told me as he flicked his gaze up to me.

"Sherlock?" I asked him as I stood up and he walked over to me and took my hands.

"Alexandria Amelia Elspeth MacKenna would you marry me again today?" Sherlock asked me as he got down on one knee in front of me. "I can't promise you we'll always be happy. I can't promise you that we won't be poor at some point. Consulting detective is by no means a rich profession. But I promise you myself, the parts of myself I give to no one else. I promise you forever. It isn't much…,"Sherlock said before I cut him off, kneeling down and holding the sides of his face before I kissed him fiercely.

"Forever would never be enough," I told him as we broke apart and I hugged him tightly. "But it's more than you'll ever know," I told Sherlock and he hugged me tightly to him. "I promise you each and every single moment of the rest of our forever," I vowed to Sherlock before he helped me stand up. I kissed him again and then I patted Sherlock on the chest and smiled at him slyly. "I believe there is a dress I have to go put on," I told Sherlock and he chuckled slightly as he led me over to the door.

"Well then. I'll have to let you get ready Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock told me and I looked at him and leaned my head against his shoulder for a moment.

"That sounds perfect, Mr. Holmes," I told Sherlock and he kissed the top of my head. He opened the door for me and I slipped out into the hall where Joanna, Mycroft, and John were waiting. "I'll see you shortly Mr. Holmes," I told him before he shut the door with another chuckle. I turned around and heard Mary as she spoke through the crack in her door.

"So?" Mary asked me and I laughed, leaving them all hanging for a moment.

"I think we have a double wedding to get ready for," I told them and they all sighed in relief. Mary and Joanna all put dragged me into the room again and sat me down on one of the chairs.

The next hour and a half was pure torture at least in my eyes. The girls were way too excited. Anthea joined us and Mary's other bridesmaid Janine and between them and Joanie, Mary and I had our hair done up. Her short blond hair was curled slightly while my very long hair was expertly curled by Anthea which was a very long process. She pinned my hair up into an elegant up do but only after braiding a large section of my hair. She weaved flowers through the braid and pinned it like a crown around my head. The finishing touch was the butterfly clip I had worn at my first wedding with Sherlock, given to me by a Hungarian woman who stood as witness for us. Then the makeup got started. Mary kept it simple, black eyeliner, a bit of blush and foundation, and a light pink lip stain. Anthea went with black eyeliner, bronze eye shadow, a rosy cheek and natural lips for me since my lips were already a deep pink colour. My shoes were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and Joanna had bought them specifically in mind for me. They were a light blue and had roses all over them. I also had white sapphire and silver drop earrings and a necklace to match which Joanna had designed to match my engagement ring which I had been wearing proudly for the last six months. My dress… was breath taking. The neck line was v shaped and it had beautiful lace work over the bodice of the dress. The rest of the dress fell down in a full skirt with more lace work down it and Mary tied a simple green ribbon around my waist. Joanna had the dress designed specifically for me and she managed to create the dress of my dreams. Sooner than I expected, Anthea handed me a bouquet of bright pink, purple, and blue flowers with a green ribbon tied around them. A shamrock charm was attached to the bouquet and there was one on my garter as well which I had pulled slightly higher than normally acceptable just because I wanted to play with Sherlock later as I knew it would make him blush if he had to take it off in front of Mummy. Mycroft already had gone on ahead with the boys to the church so Mary and I were put into a car with Janine, Anthea, and Joanna who were all wearing lovely lilac dresses which was a colour that Sherlock actually had made the final decision on. Mary told me that they asked Molly to also be one of my brides maids but she said no because she was too shy to be able to stand in front of everyone. Mary's other bridesmaids would meet us at church. I was nervous but this was Sherlock, my Sherlock and this was just the first step of the rest of our forever.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock fidgeted as he stood next to John, his top hat off and handed over to his brother who was sitting in front row with his parents who were looking at him proudly. Sherlock swallowed thickly as he tried to block out the noise of everyone talking and the looks that everyone was shooting at him and John. The way they had it planned, Sherlock and Lexi would stand as their best man and maid of honour respectively and then John would switch places with Sherlock, John had checked that Sherlock wanted him as his best man and not his brother first which Sherlock assured him he did, and Joanna would take Lexi's place a maid of honour. Sherlock did not want his brother standing in as his best man and Mycroft seemed to understand this and even agreeed with him that John was a much better replacement in this case. Mary knew that Joanna had been in Lexi's life more than she had over the last few years so she thought it was only right that Joanna stand as her maid of honour. John cleared his throat and looked back at Sherlock as he was given the signal by Lestrade that the girls had arrived before he stepped forward and held his hands up to quiet everyone down. Sherlock's stomach dropped and he felt ill as he felt his heart drop. Lexi was out there, just outside and she was going to be coming in in just a few minutes. He wasn't sure what to expect.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" John asked and everyone stopped talking and John smiled as Sherlock shuffled nervously on his feet. "Today is not just mine and Mary's wedding," John said and a collective gasp rose and people started whispering again. "Today is also the day when the two greatest people I know and love stand up with me as well. My best mate," John said, gesturing to Sherlock who nodded slightly at everyone while he fought back the urge to make a run for it. "Sherlock Holmes is finally going to marry Lexi MacKenna. Course they both didn't know about it. As brilliant as they both are they both can be a bit daft at times," John said, grinning at Sherlock who rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation. "I hope you can forgive us for not telling you in advance but as consulting detectives even they wouldn't have missed their names on the wedding invites," John said and everyone laughed at that before he stood back next to Sherlock. "Ready mate?" John asked him with a grin and Sherlock nodded at him.

"Obviously," Sherlock said with a smirk and John rolled his eyes before clapping him on the shoulder.

"It's just Lexi mate," John told him and Sherlock glared at him.

"I know that," Sherlock snapped and John smiled at him smugly. "Shut up," Sherlock told John who chuckled slightly at that.

The music started up and the doors to the church opened. Mary entered first and smiled as she saw John, walking up the aisle to the traditional wedding song, "Here Comes the Bride." John grinned at her widely as soon as he saw her, his mouth falling open slightly as soon as he saw her. Sherlock had to admit that she looked rather beautiful, but he was anxious to see Lexi again. Somehow he had managed to spend this long without her but his anxiety at having her away from him was already riding. As soon as Mary reached John they both turned to look back to the doors as the song ended and another one began. It was a soft piano melody and then Lexi appeared at the end of the aisle. Sherlock's mouth fell open and he stared at Lexi in disbelief. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, she always was, but seeing her in a white dress, her hair done up and knowing that she was marrying him…. Sherlock gulped as she started walking towards him. She met his gaze and her face lit up in a beautiful smile and Sherlock smiled back at her, his heart filling to the point of bursting as he wanted to run down the aisle to her and kiss her already. She watched him through her veil and mouthed I love you to him. All the anxiety Sherlock was feeling melted away and the only person in the room was Lexi. Suddenly a woman started singing and Sherlock heard Lexi's voice coming through the speakers which had been set up in the church, John and Mary somehow having gotten a recording of her singing.

_Heart beats fast_

_Colours and promises_

_How to be brave?_

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_

_But watching you stand alone,_

_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow._

_One step closer_

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_Time stands still_

_Beauty in all he is_

_I will be brave_

_I will not let anything take away_

_What's standing in front of me_

_Every breath_

_Every hour has come to this_

_One step closer_

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_One step closer_

_One step closer_

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_

_For a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

As soon as Lexi reached the front of the church, Sherlock took a step forward and offered his hand to her. She took it and he helped her to stand next to Mary as her dress train was rather long. She mouthed a thank you to him and he nodded slightly as she beamed at him. He reluctantly stood back next to John as the four of them turned to the vicar who would marry John and Mary first. The vicar smiled at the two couples in front of him before nodding.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sign of God – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honourable among all men; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace," The vicar began and the church was deadly silent. "Marriage is the union of husband and wife in heart, body and mind. It is intended for their mutual joy – and for the help and comfort given on another in prosperity and adversity. But more importantly – it is a means through which a stable and loving environment may be attained," The vicar continued. "Through marriage, John and Mary make a commitment together to face their disappointments – embrace their dreams – realize their hopes – and accept each other's failures. John and Mary will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together – through mutual understanding – openness – and sensitivity to each other. We are here today – before God – because marriage is one of His most sacred wishes – to witness the joining in marriage of John and Mary. This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with which this man and this woman begin their life together. And now – through me – He joins you together in one of the holiest bonds. Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?" The vicar asked and Lexi spoke up, answering for Mary who had no family of her own.

"Her family and friends gathered here today do," Lexi told the vicar and he nodded, smiling at Lexi as Mary and John looked to her, beaming.

"This is a beginning and a continuation of their growth as individuals. With mutual care, respect, responsibility and knowledge comes the affirmation of each one's own life happiness, growth and freedom. With respect for individual boundaries comes the freedom to love unconditionally. Within the emotional safety of a loving relationship – the knowledge self-offered one another becomes the fertile soil for continued growth. With care and responsibility towards self and one another comes the potential for full and happy lives," The vicar began again. "By gathering together all the wishes of happiness and our fondest hopes for John and Mary from all present here, we assure them that our hearts are in tune with theirs. These moments are so meaningful to all of us, for "what greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined together – to strengthen each other in all labour – to minister to each other in all sorrow – to share with each other in all gladness," The vicar continued and Sherlock swallowed thickly. He wasn't exactly a religious person and neither was Lexi, but he could get through it when it was their turn. "This relationship stands for love, loyalty, honesty and trust, but most of all for friendship. Before they knew love, they were friends, and it was from this seed of friendship that is their destiny. Do not think that you can direct the course of love – for love, if it finds you worthy, shall direct you. Marriage is an act of faith and a personal commitment as well as a moral and physical union between two people. Marriage has been described as the best and most important relationship that can exist between them. It is the construction of their love and trust into a single growing energy of spiritual life. It is amoral commitment that requires and deserves daily attention. Marriage should be a lifelong consecration of the ideal of loving kindness – backed with the will to make it last," The vicar said before he turned to John. "Do you John Watson take Mary Morstan to be your wife – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?" The vicar asked John and he nodded as he looked at Mary, holding her hands in his.

"I will," John said firmly and Mary grinned at him and shrugged at him happily.

"Do you Mary Morstan take John Watson to be your husband – to live together after God's ordinance – in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?" The vicar asked Mary as he turned to her and she nodded.

"I will," Mary answered him. "Of course I will," She added and everyone laughed. Sherlock's deep baritone laugh mixed with Lexi's higher pitched bell laugh over the rest of everyone's mirth.

"What token of your love do you offer? Would you place the rings in my hand?" The vicar asked and the page boy stepped forward, smiled to the bride's side, smiled to the groom's side and then gave the rings off to the vicar. "May these rings be blessed as the symbol of this affectionate unity. These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever they go – may they always return to one another. May these two find in each other the love for which all men and women yearn. May they grow in understanding and in compassion. May the home which they establish together be such a place that many will find there a friend. May these rings on their fingers symbolize the touch of the spirit of love in their hearts," The vicar said as Sherlock kept his hands folded in front of him as he tried to concentrate on the wedding which was far too long for him. The vicar handed John over his ring for Mary. "John, in placing this ring on Mary's finger, repeat after me: Mary Morstan, you are now consecrated to me as my wife from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed."

"Mary Morstan, you are now consecrated to me as my wife from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed," John said with conviction before he slid the ring onto Mary's finger.

"Mary, in placing this ring on John's finger, repeat after me: John, you are now consecrate to me as my husband from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed," The vicar said as he handed Mary's ring for John over to her.

"John, you are now consecrate to me as my husband from this day forward and I give you this ring as the pledge of my love and as the symbol of our unity and with this ring, I thee wed," Mary said with conviction as she slid the gold band onto John's finger.

"May you always share with each other the gifts of love – be one in heart and in mind – may you always create a home together that puts in your hearts – love – generosity and kindness. In as much as John and Mary have consented together in marriage before this company of friends and family and have pledged their faith – and declared their unity by giving and receiving a ring – are now joined. You have pronounced yourselves husband and wife but remember to always be each other's best friend. I now pronounce you man and wife," The vicar said as he held both of their hands over each other so that their right hands covered over their left as well. "What – therefore – God has joined together – let no man put asunder. May your days be good and long upon the earth. You may now kiss the bride," The vicar finished and everyone began clapping as John threw back Mary's veil and sealed their vows with a kiss. John and Mary broke their kiss before looking at Sherlock and Lexi and they stood back and Lexi stepped forward, offering her hand to Sherlock who took it and stepped forward with her as John stood beside him as best man and Joanna walked around Mary and stood as her maid of honour. The vicar however stepped back and suddenly Lestrade was taking his place, smiling as he saw Lexi and Sherlock's confused faces.

"Didn't expect that now did you?" Lestrade asked them with a laugh. "Got ordained just for this," Lestrade said shaking his head. "Even had to wear a bloody suit," Lestrade said, gesturing down to his suit and Lexi laughed as Sherlock chuckled feeling ten times better that Lestrade was marrying them instead. "Alright now, I'll keep this as brief as I can," Lestrade started and Lexi shook her head at him. "When I met this man, I thought he was the biggest prat I had ever met," Lestrade started and Sherlock shuffled awkwardly. "But there is no man greater than Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade said, giving Sherlock and look and Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, maybe John Watson," Lestrade said and everyone laughed again. "Then I met this woman and I thought that the man who ever married her would have to be a pretty brave bastard," Lestrade said, and Lexi laughed again as Sherlock shook his head in exasperation. "But there is no greater woman than Lexi MacKenna," Lestrade said and Lexi squeezed Sherlock's hands as she flicked her gaze over to him. "They've caught murderers, serial killers, psychopaths, and all matters of criminals together. Quite honestly, they're the oddest couple I ever seen, but one thing I know without the question of a doubt is that these two idiots love each other. Course, it took them far longer to realize that themselves than it took everyone else," Lestrade snorted with a roll of his eyes and the church laughed again.

"Yes, very good, is there actually a point to this Graham?" Sherlock snapped in impatience and Lestrade glared at him.

"It's Greg and yes, there is, so just shut up and listen," Lestrade told Sherlock irritatedly and Lexi giggled before he continued. "I'd ask if there is anyone that opposes these two getting married but I think the answer to that would be no. We've all been waiting for this for a very long time and it came to no surprise to us that he asked her in the first place. If you do object though, I hear that the maid of honour would love to wrestle someone in heels and she and her own fiancée are two of the most powerful people in Great Britain so I would advise against it," Lestrade said and everyone chuckled, including Sherlock's parents. Mummy had tears in her eyes and Sherlock grimaced, quickly turning back to look at Lexi. "Sherlock's requested to give his own vows so I'll leave him to it," Lestrade said, gesturing to Sherlock who swallowed thickly. There was no turning back now, no way he could run. It was now or never. All he had to do was take one look at Lexi and he knew what he wanted to say.

"Alexandria MacKenna, Lexi, when we first met I will confess that I thought you were average," Sherlock began and John cleared his throat behind the consulting detective. "Looking back now I don't know how I ever could have seen you as anything short of extraordinary," Sherlock continued and Mary gave him a thumbs up over Lexi's shoulder. "I never expected you to be as brilliant as I am, but that was only until our first case together which John decided to name on that horrendous blog of his, "A Study In Pink,"" Sherlock said and John made an offended noise as Lexi giggled, grinning at him and Sherlock smirked in triumph at having made her laugh. "But then I got to know the real you. You battled assassins in our flat, threw your shoes at Chinese warriors, and your wit in the face of danger shows the extent of your tenacity and intelligence," Sherlock said before sighing and looking at Lexi pointedly. "I admit that the concept of love has always been a mystery to me. Sentiment I've always considered to be a chemical defect found in the losing side, but you have proven to me that caring can be an advantage after all. I won't even begin to go into how many times you've saved my life. The ways and number are far greater than I have time to list. When I stood that day on the rooftop of Bart's I never expected you to come with me but you chose me, together, Lexi MacKenna and I against the world. You chose me and that is something that shall never be forgotten and I consider to be the greatest honour I could ever receive. I never thought that someone would choose me, certainly not a woman of your outstanding beauty and intellect. Most people are turned away by my personality but you stayed by me in times I scarcely dared to hope that you would," Sherlock told Lexi and a few tears escaped from her eyes which she wiped away with a small laugh. "In short, I do not deserve you," Sherlock continued and Lexi shook her head at him. Sherlock continued anyway, knowing it had to be said. "But, I will endeavour to spend every day being the man you do deserve. I thank you for seeing something in me that I confess I cannot. To put it simply in even a way an idiot or Anderson can understand, I love you, though I know that I don't tell you as often as I should. It would take far too long to list all the ways you have saved me from myself. You have been my constant companion, my light, and my guardian angel. You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the fortune of knowing and I could think of no one else I would rather spend the rest of my life with other than you. You are my life and certainly my everything," Sherlock finished before he realized that everyone was crying, including Lestrade and John and if Sherlock was seeing things correctly, even Mycroft seemed slightly teary eyed. "What, did I do something wrong?" Sherlock asked worriedly and Lexi shook her head quickly.

"No love, that was beautiful," Lexi said her voice thick and she wiped her eyes again, laughing lightly. "I don't know how I can top that and I don't know if I want to," Lexi told him, sniffling slightly and Sherlock handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her eyes slightly before handing it back to him and smiling as she squeezed his hands tightly for a moment. "Sherlock Holmes, Lock," Lexi began, her voice filled with fondness. "When we first met I thought that you were the most interesting man I had ever met in my life. I certainly thought you were arrogant and a bit full of yourself," Lexi laughed and Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes slightly. "But you were also brilliant. We started our relationship with wine over sushi, trying to ruin John's dates," Lexi said before looking back at Mary. "You're welcome," Lexi said and everyone laughed as she looked back at Sherlock. "Books about the plague, fancy French pancakes, and so many murders. I thought I lost you once when we were on the case of the Woman. I lacked confidence in myself and I never believed that someone could ever love me like you do, certainly no one as extraordinary as you. I thought that it was too good to be true, but you proved me wrong, the first time I've ever been glad to be wrong in my life," Lexi said and she laughed, Sherlock chuckling along with her. "Then came Moriarty and I promised you one thing. Never again would I leave you. We would get through it together or not at all. I would have never made it through those two years without you by my side and I wouldn't have wanted to. You have saved me in so many ways and I love you more than words could ever express. It would take far too long to list all the ways you've saved me and far too long to list all the reasons why I love you," Lexi told him and Sherlock gazed back at her adoringly. "In short, you got me working cases again, you saved me from myself, and you reminded me how it felt, the thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through my veins, the way it felt for me to do what we do. It's I who don't deserve you," Lexi said shaking her head and Sherlock stopped her, putting his hand on her cheek.

"You deserve far more than me," Sherlock told her earnestly and she kissed the palm of his hand.

"Let's agree to disagree," Lexi told him and Sherlock shook his head.

"No, you deserve far more than just me Lexi," Sherlock told her and she shook her head back and him and hummed in disapproval.

"Hmm, no. I think we deserve each other, the love we gave up on all those years," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded at her in agreement. "You've been my constant companion, my protector, my comforter, my sometimes doctor, my confidant, and truly the most incredible, amazing, brilliant, fantastic, and extraordinary man I could ever have the fortune of knowing. I couldn't imagine ever spending my life with anyone other than you and I never would want to. I promise you every single day of forever. Together or not at all. You are my life and certainly my everything," Lexi finished and Lestrade cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Wow, alright, didn't quiet expect that," Lestrade said gruffly. "Well, I can't really say much after that so, rings please?" Lestrade asked and John and Mary handed him over the rings they had gotten us, special wedding bands that would stand up to our work. "I'll keep this very simple. Do you take Lexi to be your wife?" Lestrade asked Sherlock and Sherlock smirked at Lestrade.

"Obviously," Sherlock said and Lexi laughed, smiling brightly at Sherlock's very Sherlock response.

"Do you take Sherlock to be your husband?" Lestrade asked Lexi after he rolled his eyes at Sherlock.

"Obviously," Lexi told him and Lestrade sighed in exasperation.

"I now pronounce you consulting detective and wife," Lestrade said before he waved his hand at them. "Just kiss already," Lestrade finished and Sherlock lifted Lexi's veil and kissed her soundly. The entire church applauded them, rising to their feet as Sherlock deepened the kiss. Mycroft cleared his throat and Sherlock sighed in exasperation before breaking their kiss. He grumbled slightly and Lexi laughed, patting him on the cheek before she rubbed his cheek bones with her thumb.

"I'm proud to introduce Mr. and Mrs. John Watson and Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade said and everyone cheered and clapped for them again. Sherlock smiled widely and offered his arm to Lexi who took it. John and Mary walked out ahead of them before Sherlock and Lexi followed after them. The church bells pealed and the doors to the church opened. John and Mary walked out, followed by Lexi and Sherlock who were both beaming, Lexi leaned over and kissed Sherlock on the cheek. Joanna, Janine and Mary's two other bridesmaids along with Anthea and the vicar followed them out of the church where the photographer was waiting for them.

"Congratulations! Okay, hold it there – I wanna get this shot of the newlyweds," The photographer said and John and Mary stopped, the bridesmaids standing behind them as Lexi and Sherlock stepped to Mary's side. "Er, just the bride and groom, please," The photographer said and Sherlock and Lexi didn't move.

"Oh no, that's the four of us. We all got married," Mary told the photographer who nodded.

"Oh right, sorry," He said before he got the shot ready, Sherlock wrapping his arm around Lexi's waist as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Okay – three, two, one, cheese!" The photographer said as Lexi looked up. The bridesmaids threw handfuls of confetti into the air and the photographer started taking pictures as Sherlock kissed Lexi's cheek, a smile on his face. The next picture was of Lexi and Sherlock gazing at each other fondly as John and Mary looked over at them, smiling in triumph. The rest of the congregation came out and the photo-taking continued, including a picture of John, Sherlock and Greg standing side by side, with a young pageboy who was about eight years old standing in front of them wearing Sherlock's top hat. Another picture was of Joanna just as she jumped up onto Mycroft's back and his face was one of uncomposed shock as she threw her head back and laughed. There was a picture of Anthea, Lexi, Joanna, and Mary standing together, Lexi and Mary wearing John and Sherlock's top hats and holding their fingers under their noses like moustaches which didn't amuse John in the least but caused Sherlock to chuckle. Later, the photographer took a picture of Sherlock and Lexi caught snogging. After the photographer had finished with them for the time being, Janine looked round at Sherlock and Lexi.

"The famous Mr. Holmes and Miss MacKenna! I'm very pleased to meet you two," Janine said as she looked over at Lexi. "Congratulations Mrs. Holmes," She said slyly. "Another Irish woman proving how lucky the Irish are," Janine said and Lexi laughed brightly as Sherlock smiled down at her fondly.

"Aye," Lexi said with a nod before she reached up on her tip toes and kissed him, Sherlock turning his head at the last moment to capture her lips with his own.

"Awww, you're so bloody perfect together," Janine complained. "Everyone has a hook up but me," Janine complained loudly as Sherlock and Lexi broke apart.

"If that's the sort of thing you're looking for ...," Sherlock said and he jerked his head towards one of the wedding guests "...the man over there in blue is your best bet. Recently divorced doctor with a ginger cat ...," Sherlock said as he looked at the ginger cat hair stuck to the man's suit and heard the phantom sound of a cat meowing. "... a barn conversion ...," Sherlock continued as he looked at the sawdust on the man's shoes. "...and a history of erectile dysfunction," Sherlock finished as he took in the man's cowboy boots. Sherlock heard the sound of a bullet ricocheting off something with a high-pitched ping, like in a Western movie and he blinked as Lexi pulled a face.

"Reviewing that information, possibly not your best bet," Lexi told Janine and she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe not," Janine said as Sherlock looked slightly puzzled at Lexi.

"Sorry – there was one more deduction there than we were expecting," Sherlock apologized, looking at Lexi and realizing she had made the same deduction he had.

"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes," Janine said as she looked over at Lexi. "...you two are going to be incredibly useful," Janine said before she walked away to talk to Anthea. Lexi looked up at Sherlock a grin on her face an expression Sherlock had never seen her make before.

"What?" Sherlock asked Lexi as he frowned in confusion.

"Mrs. Holmes. I rather like the sound of that," Lexi told Sherlock and Sherlock bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Well then Mrs. Holmes, shall we?" Sherlock asked Lexi as Mary called for them from the limo as she and John waited for them so they could head over to the reception hall.

"We shall Mr. Holmes," Lexi told him and with that, Sherlock and Lexi began the rest of there forever the only way they knew how, together.

**Lexi's POV**

We arrived back at the Goldney Hall Orangery and Mary and Joanna ushered me back upstairs to their rooms, much to Sherlock's displeasure as he was forced to let me out of his sight. They let my hair down and braided some of the long strands, weaving flowers into them. My hair curled up a lot from having been pinned up and I knew that they were letting it down because Sherlock preferred it that way. They also had me change into my second dress. Joanna told me that she knew I wouldn't want to be in a long dress all day and should a case suddenly spring up as they were apt to do around Sherlock and I, though Mary told me not to dare as if it was somehow of my doing, I would have full usage of my arms and legs. The second dress was tea length in style and it had elbow length sleeves and a high neckline that was off the shoulders. There was a lace over lay across the bodice and down over the skirt which followed with the lace style that I preferred. Sherlock also liked lace, it was more Victorian like we were. I loved that you could see my amazing shoes now. Once they made sure that my makeup was right, I was finally able to go back downstairs. Sherlock grinned as soon as he saw me and he pulled me closely to him, putting his head on my shoulder.

"You look beautiful," Sherlock whispered into my ear. "I didn't get to tell you before," Sherlock told me and I smiled widely as my chest burst with happiness and I pulled his head down and kissed him soundly. John cleared his throat as some of the guest started to arrive and Sherlock and I broke apart and sighed in exasperation. Sherlock pulled me to his side and I nuzzled his chest as we stood together. John and Mary stood next to us as Sherlock kept one arm wrapped around my waist possessively. I laughed lightly as he whispered deductions about the guests to me. Sherlock and I were living in the moment, reviling in this happiness that we thought we would never get. And we had, we found it in each other. Sherlock still had his best man's speech later and John already had his planned out apparently. The stream of guest kept us busy and I kept Sherlock entertained as he was ready to bolt into the reception room and just get on with the rest of the social niceties.

"Hello. Lovely to meet you," Mary said as she shook a man's hand and then she kissed the woman who was next in the line. The woman moved on to kiss John, and another man moved in to kiss Mary as Sherlock and I shook hands with the first man and I greeted the woman who was a friend of Mary's.

"How are you?" Mary asked the man who had moved in to kiss her.

"You look beautiful, Mary," The man said and I looked at Sherlock and he smirked at me.

"Thank you!" Mary told him brightly.

"Congratulations," The man told John as more guests moved past the four of us. The next person up was Liz and she laughed happily as she hugged John. She was wearing a bright burnt orange dress with a dark blue ribbon, shoes, and nail polish to match. She gave us all hugs and left quite an impression upon Mary. The next person up was a man wearing a lurid purple tie and Mary looked at him with delight.

"David!" Mary greeted bright and she reached out her arms ready to hug him. He leaned away, laughing nervously, and just clasped her arms briefly before he threw a look at Sherlock and me. I nodded at him and raised my eyebrow slightly in warning.

"Mary. Congratulations. You look, um, very nice," David told her as he quickly moved away from her. Mary looked at him, puzzled as he shook John's hand. "John, congratulations. You're a lucky man," David told him as Sherlock kissed the side of my head.

"Thank you," John told him as I looked up at Sherlock and grinned.

"Um, er, David, this is Sherlock and Lexi," Mary introduced us as she gestured to us and Sherlock smiled at him, tight lipped while I shot him a warning look.

"Um, yeah. We've, um, we've met," David said as he looked down nervously and Mary and John sent us both questioning looks.

**Flashback**

_David was sitting at the dining table in 221B, looking round the room and then he turned to where Sherlock was sitting opposite him holding a pen. I walked out of the kitchen and put a cup of tea in front of Sherlock before sitting next to him. David shuffled uncomfortably in his chair as I raised my eyebrow at him over the top of my tea cup. _

_"So, what exactly are my duties as an usher?" David asked us as he picked up my Sudokube from the desk and idly played with it. Sherlock frowned disapprovingly, then put down his pen and folded his hands._

_"Let's talk about Mary, first," Sherlock told David as I lowered my cup to the table and hummed in agreement. _

_"Hmm, yes. Mary is far more important than what you'll be doing as an usher," I told him, putting on my more dangerous tone of voice as John called it. Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me and smirked slightly in amusement. _

_"Sorry, what?" David asked us nervously and I tutted, causing him to shift awkwardly in his seat again. _

_"Oh, I think you know what. You went out with her for two years," Sherlock said as I pulled out a file and opened it, scanning it over. I had been making a lot of files recently and it was actually rather fun. Joanna's new programs she was having me road test were brilliant. _

_"A-ages ago. We're j... we're just good friends now," David stammered and I raised my eyebrow at him. Oh, my file said something a lot different. _

_"Is that a fact?" Sherlock asked, unfolding his hands before he turned to me and I grinned at him as I handed him over my notes._

_"I am so glad you asked me that love," I told Sherlock with a smirk before I folded my hands and looks at David, shaking my head at him. "Whenever Mary tweets, you respond within five minutes regardless of the time or your current location which suggests that you have her on text alert. Textbook clingy," I said before looking at Sherlock who nodded, reading off more of the file. _

_"In all your Facebook photographs of the happy couple, Mary takes centre frame whereas John is always partly or entirely excluded," Sherlock said and I hummed in agreement. That part was my absolute favourite part of all of this. _

_"You can't assume from that that I've still got some kind of interest in Mary," David said, laughing uncomfortably and I laughed slightly. _

_"Oh, we aren't assuming anything. We're consulting detectives David. It's our job to know everything about you," I told him and he blanched as he rubbed his hands together nervously. _

_"You volunteered to be a shoulder to cry on, on no less than three separate occasions. Do you have anything to say in your defence?" Sherlock asked him and David opened his mouth but was unable to speak. "I think from now on we'll downgrade you to 'casual acquaintance'," Sherlock said as he looked down and made a note in David's file. "No more than three planned social encounters a year, and always in John's presence," Sherlock said before he looked over at me. "That sound right?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded at him. He put the pen down again and mirrored my posture by folding his hands in front of himself and looking at David intensely. "We have your contact details. Lexi will be monitoring. I suggest you be careful to. She controls nearly every CCTV camera. Part of her hacking skills which I am quite fond of," Sherlock said before he leaned over and kissed me on the side of the head. I grinned and kissed his cheek before looking back at David who was watching us a little wide-eyed. _

_"They're right about you two," David said slowly. "You two are bloody psychopaths," David said as Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows slightly and I laughed at that, a sound which made him David shudder. _

_"High-functioning sociopaths ...," Sherlock corrected him before continuing as he widened his eyes. "…with your number," Sherlock warned him and we both grinned manically at David before we both dropped our smiles. Sherlock steepled his hands in front of his chin, looking sternly at David as I stood up and patted Sherlock on the shoulder. I leaned down and kissed his cheek as David looked down, then let out a nervous breath and got up and walked away. Sherlock picked up my Sudokube and put it back into its proper position on the table. _

_"Well, that was interesting," I said as Sherlock picked up his tea and took a sip of it, smiling at me appreciatively. "Who's next?" I asked him and he chuckled before he got up and walked over to me, holding my hips as he drew me closely to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and played with the hair at the base of his neck._

_"I think we should take a little break," Sherlock said suggestively as he kissed the spot right under my ear and I shivered slightly before chuckling. _

_"I think so too husband," I told him before I led him back to our bedroom._

**End of Flashback**

David made a couple of anxious noises, waved briefly to Mary and then went indoors. John looked round at us with a curious expression but Sherlock raised his head and looked inscrutable as I smiled innocently at the army doctor. He shook his head slightly as our next guest approached us.

"Hello!" Mary said as a woman in a black and white dress approached and kissed Mary. "Pleased to see you," Mary said and the woman moved on to kiss and hug John. Apparently we missed more than we knew in two years.

"Congratulations," The woman told them as I looked to Sherlock who shared my frown. I leaned up on tip toes and kissed it away.

"No frowning," I told him and he smiled slightly as he tightened his hold around my waist, rubbing his thumb on my hip bone. "Mr. Holmes," I scolded lightly before laughing loudly as he just grinned at me devilishly.

"Thanks for coming, thank you," John told the woman as the young pageboy stood a few paces away from us. Mary smiled down at him but the boy ran straight to Sherlock and me and wrapped his arms around us, smiling happily. Sherlock looked awkwardly down at him as I leaned down slightly and patted his head affectionately.

"Mm, yes, um, well done in the service, Archie," Sherlock told the boy and I winked at him.

"Excellent job mate," I told him and he grinned up at me as the woman in the black and white dress, Archie's mother, smiled at us.

"He's really come out of his shell. I don't know how you two did it," Archie's Mum told us as I straightened up slightly and shrugged a bit.

"Um ...," Sherlock said before he turned and looked at me and I tilted my head to the side slightly and frowned thoughtfully.

"Well...," I said before laughing slightly. "Sherlock?" I asked him, not sure what to tell his mother exactly.

**Flashback**

_Sherlock was sitting in his chair and was looking across at Archie who was sitting in John's chair. I came out of the kitchen and handed a cup of hot chocolate to the boy before sitting on Sherlock's lap. He instinctively wrapped his arm around my waist and tucked me into his side, staring across me to study the boy. _

_"Basically it's a cute smile to the bride's side, cute smile to the groom's side and then the rings," Sherlock told the boy, Archie, trying to convince him to be John and Mary's pageboy like they wanted him to be. _

_"No," Archie told him instantly and I smiled slightly. I could imagine Sherlock being the same at that age. _

_"And you have to wear the outfit," Sherlock told him and Archie instantly told him no again. "You really do have to wear the outfit," Sherlock told him and I turned my head into his shoulder so neither of them would see me smiling. _

_"What for?" Archie asked Sherlock as he flicked a look over to me, studying me behind intelligent eyes that held a childlike innocents. _

_"Grown-ups like that sort of thing," Sherlock told him with a sniff as I looked at the boy. _

_"Why?" Archie asked us instantly and Sherlock paused for a moment thinking. _

_"... I don't know," Sherlock said shrugging slightly. "I'll ask one," Sherlock told Archie before he looked at me. "Lexi?" He asked me, raising his eyebrow questioningly and I nodded at him in response. _

_"Don't ask me. I haven't the foggiest. Besides I'm not really grown up myself and Mycroft would agree with that," I told him before I looked over at Archie. "You know I never understood that, why they make you wear all these things. I always got forced into dresses," I told them, frowning and Archie studied the both of us for a long moment. _

_"You two are detectives?" Archie asked us more slowly, thoughtfully even and I nodded at him, raising my eyebrow slightly as I looked at him questioningly. _

_"Yep," Sherlock answered him popping the 'p' sound loudly._

_"Last time I checked yeah," I told the boy, wondering where this was going slightly. _

_"Have you two solved any murders?" Archie asked us and I nodded at him again. _

_"Sure. Loads," Sherlock answered him as he inclined his head slightly. _

_"They're my personal favourites. Robberies, they're all right but murders are always far more interesting," I said and Sherlock kissed the side of my head, smirking at me proudly. _

_"Can I see?" Archie asked us and I raised my eyebrow at him, narrowing my eyes a bit as I thought. Sherlock and I shared a long look for a moment and then I shrugged at him. He was a bright boy. Actually reminded me of a young version of Sherlock. I didn't see any harm in it. _

_"Yeah, all right," Sherlock told him after our momentary hesitation and the three of us got up and went over to my laptop which was on the dining table. Sherlock brought it up and we showed him a series of pictures that I had collected over the last six months and from before two years ago when we worked various cases. After a while Archie leaned in to look more closely at an image we had stopped on and I smiled at him. He was just as excited as we were. _

_"What's all the stuff in his eye?" Archie asked us and Sherlock glanced at it briefly. _

_"Maggots," Sherlock told him and I hummed in agreement before elaborating. _

_"This corpse we found after it had started decomposing. Sherlock and I were able to figure out how long he had been dead for after calculating how old the maggots were in correlation with how much of the man's flesh they had eaten," I told the boy who looked over at me excitedly. _

_"Cool!" Archie told me and I laughed at that as Sherlock looked at him for a moment, humming in agreement. _

**End of Flashback**

"He said you two had some pictures for him, as a treat," Archie's Mum said as he continued to hug our legs. Archie had paid more than one visit to us at Baker Street and we let him help out with a few experiments involving human body parts and we both showed him a great deal of pictures and explained our cases to him.

"Er, yes ...," Sherlock told her and he patted his head awkwardly. "...if he's good," Sherlock added after a second.

"Beheadings," Archie said turning to look at his mum and John and Mary threw us both looks of horror and exasperation.

"Lovely little village," Sherlock covered up quickly and I bobbed my head quickly.

"In Ireland, I grew up near there. Thought it would be nice for him to learn about a different country. Very educational," I told his mother and she nodded, smiling at us with a confused expression on her face and Sherlock unwrapped Archie from around out legs and gently pushed him towards the entrance to the reception hall.

"Hmm?" Archie's mum said as she looked down at her son as they walked inside. "What did you say?" Archie's mum asked him as we turned to John and Mary.

"I really should take you there some time. It's a nice village, very lovely people," I told them and John bit his cheek before I looked back at Sherlock and we shrugged in unison. Upon reflection, we might not make the best parents in the world. We were barely grownups ourselves. But, what was the point of being grown up if you couldn't act childish sometimes?

**Third Person POV**

Molly was canoodling with Tom, repeatedly kissing his cheek. Tom indicated that the photographer was approaching them, and she turned and smiled into the camera while he took some pictures.

"Nice," The photographer told the two of them before he moved on to the next nearest couple, who were Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Chatterjee from the sandwich shop.

Mrs. Hudson had forgiven him for already having two wives even after the talk that Lexi had had with her over the last six months when he wanted to get back together with her. Mrs. Hudson smiled happily for the camera while Mr. Chatterjee didn't look quite so happy to be there as he was forced into it. The photographer turned and snapped several pictures of Greg sitting at a table and drinking. Greg, looking a little glum, raised his glass to him. The photographer then moved on next to where Mycroft was sitting with Joanna. He looked ready to cry as his parents chatted with Joanna animatedly and Joanna had a vice like grip on his knee, keeping him from escaping. After they had all been greeted by the brides and grooms, Mummy Holmes had pulled Mycroft and Joanna away, saying they wouldn't bother Sherlock and Lexi now as it was their wedding day and they were celebrating their union. Next the questions started about when Mycroft was ever going to get around the marrying Joanna, a conversation he had no wish to have at the present time. He had asked her to marry him, but beyond that he hadn't actually thought about having an actual wedding yet. The photographer snapped a picture of them and Joanna pressed her face against Mycroft's, a happy smile on her face as the man grimaced. After the photographer walked way, Joanna kissed him soundly, surprising Mycroft before she went back to casually talking to his parents. A small, fond smile worked its way onto Mycroft's face and he reached for Joanna's hand under the table and held it lightly in his. She made no indication of this fact other than squeezing his hand. Across the reception hall, John and Mary were standing nearby the table where Molly, Greg, and Mrs. Hudson were sitting. John indicated as a waiter approached with a plate of canapés.

"Oh, d'you want ...?" John asked Mary as she snatched a canapé off of the plate.

"I'm starving," Mary told him as John declined the waiter's offer of the plate with his thanks. "Had to lose so much weight to get into this dress. Lexi was easy enough to plan for. She hardly eats anything anyway," Mary complained and John chuckled as Sherlock and Lexi stood slightly away from them, Janine having joined them to see if they could find her a date at the reception. Janine looked admiringly at the waiter as he walked past them and Lexi picked a canapé off of the plate. She took a bite, grinning before she held the rest of it out to Sherlock. He opened his mouth and obliged her, chewing on it slowly. He had to admit it was rather good. Not as good as Lexi's cooking however. That was always exceptional.

"He's nice," Janie said and Sherlock sniffed deeply, looking over to Lexi who suddenly laughed loudly. Janine's accent was far more apparent than Lexi's which suggested that she hadn't lived in England long, certainly far less time than Lexi had. Lexi spoke more with a British accent that had hints of an Irish undertone. Sometimes it came out thicker like it was now because she was in the company of another person with the same accent.

"Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odour problem manifesting under stress," Sherlock told her and he raised his eyebrow at Lexi who was hiding her wide grin behind her hand. Sherlock noted with triumph that she hadn't stopped grinning since she saw him at the end of the aisle. It was easy enough to deduce that she was probably happier than she had ever been in her life and Sherlock agreed that he felt the same.

"Okay, done there. What about his friend?" Janine asked Lexi and she and Sherlock turned to look where she was looking. In the nearby kitchen, another waiter was carefully pulling out the skewer from the middle of a large joint of roast beef. Lexi shook her head and made a face.

"No, you don't want him. He's in a long-term relationship but he is also a compulsive cheater," Lexi told her and Sherlock agreed with her assessment. She was definitely something to marvel at when she made her deductions about someone. Sherlock hadn't been lying. She was truly the most incredible and brilliant woman he had ever had the fortune of knowing.

"Seriously?" Janine asked them in exasperation and Lexi hummed in response and gestured for Sherlock to continue on for her which he did so gladly.

"Waterproof cover on his smartphone," Sherlock told her as he looked closely at the phone in the man's jacket pocket. "Yet his complexion doesn't indicate outdoor work," Sherlock continued as he studied his face. "Suggests he's in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he'd rather went unseen," Sherlock finished and Lexi grinned up at him.

"Elementary," Lexi said and Sherlock chuckled deeply. Janine smiled admiringly at the couple.

"Can I keep you two?" Janine asked them, finding that she rather liked Lexi. She was Irish like her and certainly had more attitude and spunk to her than people might give her credit for. Sherlock was a perfect match for her and they certainly balanced each other out.

"D'you like solving crimes?" Sherlock asked her with a slightly raised eyebrow. After all, nothing got in the way of their work save for John's and apparently their wedding day.

"Do you have a vacancy?" Janine asked them casually with a smile and Sherlock and Lexi's eyes drifted over to John and then Sherlock looked away quickly as Lexi turned back to Janine.

"No, unfortunately. We've already got the position filled by a certain army doctor," Lexi told Janine who nodded understandingly. "But if you are looking for something a bit more thrilling, talk with Joanna. She's looking for her next protégée," Lexi told her with a grin before Janine walked off to let Lexi and Sherlock have some time together. "You know he isn't going to leave us right?" Lexi asked Sherlock as soon as the other Irish woman had walked away. Sherlock sighed loudly before nodding his head slightly. Lexi pulled Sherlock down and kissed him soundly, a slight bit of applause starting up at Mrs. Hudson and Molly's table as they caught the happy couple in the act. Lestrade whistled and Lexi and Sherlock broke apart, both of their faces slightly flushed.

**Lexi's POV**

"Ah the lovebirds, how adorable," Joanna said as she walked over to us and slug her arms across our shoulders. "And I remember a time when you were cursing his name. I would like to thank myself and the Academy for this prestigious award of being the one to shove you two crazy kids together," Joanna said, wiping away a fake tear.

"I think it was sort of a joint effort," I told her as Sherlock watched us with an amused expression. He had come to understand what my friendship with Joanna was like and he had come to find that he like Joanna. Of course he thought that she was wasting her time with his brother and on that he could fault her for but he found her to be intelligent and funny and the two of them bantered back in forth like a bratty brother and sister would. Joanna was already considered to be part of the Holmes' family, at least by Sherlock and Mycroft's and well my parents. "And I hooked you up with Mycroft technically," I said and Joanna hummed as she made a little face and nodded.

"You did. Course you never mentioned that I would want to kill him at first," Joanna said and Sherlock chuckled as I looked across Joanna and grinned brightly at him.

"That's not just you. That's everyone," Sherlock told her and the three of us chuckled together.

"So are we going to be having another wedding soon?" I asked Joanna and she sighed as Sherlock wrinkled his nose slightly, still not liking when we brought up the subject that Mycroft was engaged.

"Do you honestly think I can get Myc out of his office long enough to marry me before he runs back to safety?" Joanna asked me as she flicked her gaze over to where Mycroft was sitting with Mummy and Papa Holmes, his head in his hands as he appeared to be mumbling "Why me?" to himself quietly as his mother chattered on about something. "The only reason he's here today is because your parents are here," Joanna told Sherlock and she shook her head and raised an eyebrow as she looked at her fiancée. "He is more work than I am. Might need to just plan it and then tell him what day he is marrying me," Joanna said and Sherlock and I chuckled.

"That could work," I told Joanna and she nodded before planting a kiss on each of our cheeks and lowered her arms from our shoulders.

"I should go rescue him. I've waited at least fifteen minutes. I think that's enough punishment for trying to kill the mood earlier and being a general drama queen," Joanna told us, shrugging before she walked away to go rescue Mycroft. I giggled as I hugged Sherlock around the middle and he put his arms around my waist before tucking my head under his chin.

"God help Mycroft," I told Sherlock and he chuckled slightly, the sound rumbling lowly in his chest before he kissed the top of my head.

"He is going to need more than just God's help," Sherlock joked and we both dissolved into laughter before sharing a long kiss while no one was paying us much mind.

**Third Person POV**

A slight ways away from the snogging detectives, Mary put a hand on John's shoulder.

"So, Harry?" Mary asked John curiously, wondering if John's sister had made it to the reception at least.

"Er, no. No show," John told Mary as he shook his head, looking around slightly to make sure they weren't in anyone's way.

"Darling, I'm so sorry," Mary apologized and John sighed slightly, looking away from her.

"It was a bit of a punt asking her, I suppose. Lexi spoke with her but there's only so much she can do too," John said, turning back to Mary. His Mum hadn't even shown up to his own wedding but at least they got Sherlock's parents there. "Still, free bar – wouldn't have been a good mix," John said before frowning slightly as he looked down. "What were we think?" John asked Mary suddenly as he looked up at her again and she frowned at him in confusion. "Offering a free bar at the reception," John elaborated before he gestured over to where Sherlock and Lexi were chatting nearby, lost in their own little world together. "Lexi's going to love that. How can she drink more than us? It isn't physically possible for her to be able to and not suffer as much as we do," John complained and Mary laughed brightly.

"Should have seen her back in her Uni days then," Mary told him and John frowned, shaking his head. He didn't even want to think about that. It was a rather terrifying thought. John looked to the side then and raised his eyes towards the entrance. His face filled with surprise as he saw someone he didn't even think was going to come.

"Oh, God, wow!" John said in shock as a looked at the scarred, uniformed man who had just walked in.

"Oh, G... Is that ...?" Mary asked him, just as surprised as John was as she looked over at the person John was looking at.

"He came!" John said excitedly, staring to walk towards him and turning to smile back in disbelief at his new wife. Mary smiled in delight as John continued to walk over to the man and they saluted each other. Sherlock and Lexi suddenly appeared at Mary's side and looked over at the man. Lexi's eyebrow raised as she tilted her head to the side, studying him closely.

"So that's him. Major Sholto," Sherlock said, his tone disapproving. Mary absentmindedly told him yes with a simple "Uh-huh" and Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he looked at John and the confirmed Major Sholto "If they're such good friends, why does he barely even mention him?" Sherlock asked Mary as he leaned in slightly towards her, Lexi leaning around him slightly so she could look at Mary.

"He mentions him all the time to me," Mary told them before looking down at her wine glass. "He never shuts up about him," Mary continued with a slight shrug and Lexi hummed in response.

"About him?" Sherlock asked Mary, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he kept his eyes on John and Sholto, a confused expression on his face. Mary hummed in response before she took a drink from her wine glass, grimacing at the taste.

"Urgh. I chose this wine. It's bloody awful," Mary said and Lexi nodded, pulling a face.

"The sangria is better. I just don't like white wine," Lexi told her and Mary looked across to her apologetically.

"Yes, but it's definitely him that he talks about?" Sherlock asked Mary, ignoring Lexi's comment and Mary's complaint as he pressed the matter. Mary frowned down at her wine glass, studying the wine with a look of disgust on her face and she hummed in agreement absentmindedly.

"I'm very, very glad to see you, sir. I know you don't really do this sort of thing," John said at the entrance, Turing to look behind them as their conversation carried over to Sherlock, Lexi, and Mary despite the noise of everyone talking in the room.

"Well, I do for old friends, Watson ... John. It's good to see you," Sholto told him nodding slightly.

"You too," John told him with a nod of his own.

"Civilian life suiting you, then?" Sholto asked him conversationally as he looked around the reception room again.

"Er, er, yes, well ...," John said as he gestured towards Mary with a smile as John saw Lexi laugh at something, Sherlock chuckling beside her as Lexi made a face. "...I think so, sir."

"No more need for the trick cyclist?" Sholto asked him curiously.

"No, I-I go now and then. Sort of a top-up," John told him slowly and Sholto nodded. "Therapy can be very helpful," John continued nodding as he looked down at his feet briefly and then back up and Sholto looked away from him. "Where are you living these days?" John asked Sholto, changing the subject.

"Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't know it," Sholto told him as he looked back at the shorter man and gave the hint of a smile.

"I've never even heard him say his name," Sherlock said as he turned towards Mary as Lexi watched the Major, deducing him. She frowned suddenly, a look which didn't go amiss by Sherlock.

"Well, he's almost a recluse – you know, since ...," Mary told them and Sherlock answered her with a yes as he turned and nodded slightly at her in understanding. "I didn't think he'd show up at all. John says he's the most unsociable man he's ever met," Mary told them as they continued to watch what was going on across the room.

"He is? He's the most unsociable?" Sherlock asked Mary and Lexi grinned up at him as Mary distractedly hummed. She raised her wine glass to her mouth, about to take another sip of her wine before she realized why she wasn't drinking it in the first place. "Ah, that's why he's bouncing round him like a puppy," Sherlock said bitterly and Mary grinned and hugged his arm as Lexi nuzzled her head against his chest and then kissed his jawbone comfortingly.

"Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know," Mary told him and Sherlock looked round at her. "I mean look at Lexi even," Mary continued as she gestured at Lexi who raised her eyebrow slightly in warning. "Lexi knew Joanna before she ever met me or you and John. Joanna was her first partner in crime," Mary told him as she gestured back to where Joanna seemed to be torturing Mycroft if his expression was any indication. Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes before shaking her head in exasperation.

"Hardly. We were more like bad influences upon each other and that is beside the point," Lexi told Mary who smiled knowingly at Lexi who only shook her head again and then leaned her head against Sherlock's shoulder as he drew her more tightly to him.

"Stop smiling," Sherlock told Mary exasperatedly.

"It's my wedding day!" Mary complained and Lexi laughed at that brightly.

"And it's my wedding day too since you decided to plan this all," Lexi said and Sherlock rolled his eyes before pulling free from Mary. "Husband," Lexi said, turning to Sherlock and they shared a long look, Mary realizing that they were having one of their eye conversations that John had told her about and that she had only seen them do on a few occasions. The both of them suddenly turned and walked away and Mary shrugged before taking another drink from her wine glass before pulling a disgusted face at the taste again. Mary turned and looked back to where Sherlock and Lexi were standing in the back corner of the room, hugging each other. Lexi's arms were wrapped around Sherlock's waist and Sherlock's arms were wrapped around the girls shoulders. Her head was tucked under his chin and they both had their eyes closed, enjoying the moment. Mary sighed happily at the sight. Everything was as it should be and all was well, Lexi and Sherlock were together…finally and forever had only just begun.


	93. Pray Silence For The Best Man

**Hello sweeties! Bet you didn't see that one coming! Good, it means I still can manage to surprise you and keep things under wraps. Sorry if I made you cry with Sherlock and Lexi's vows. Sherlock's were a real treat to right and made even me cry when I was writing them. Matt sweetie of course you can steal parts of them for your wedding vows. Writing the wedding scene was my favourite, my absolute favourite as I had to figure out how to fit in Sherlock and Lexi's wedding with John and Mary's. I knew I wanted my boys to get married on the same day though. I'm glad you all liked it. **

**A big thank you has to go to the amazing John Cartwright for providing the vows for John and Mary from an actual vicar. Thank God for friends. Also another big thanks to Matt Elliot for having sent me actual pictures of the Golden Hill Orangery where the reception was shot in Bristol for Sherlock. They definitely helped me get an idea of the space I would be working in. I do actually take this story in all seriousness like any writing project and thus the boys are sending me pictures of Cardiff bay and various parts of London before they move to Cardiff for another project I am working on which they convinced me to finally get back into. **

**To answer some questions I've been getting namely about Lexi and a possible pregnancy...you'll just have to wait and find out. Also to answer Matt's question about Joanna, not quite yet sweetie, but close. Now that that is taken care of we now get into the best man's speech. So, may we pray silence for the best man?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety One- Pray Silence For The Best Man<strong>

Dinner was a rather interesting affair. Sherlock sat next to John and I sat on the other side of Sherlock at the long main table that the wedding party was sitting at. Joanna sat next to me and Anthea was on her other side while Mary had Janine sitting on her other side and then the rest of her bride's maids. Sherlock and I deduced the other guests as we ate. I was trying to keep Sherlock from freaking out as he was going to have to give his best man's speech soon. He was still going first for the best man speech as he didn't want John to make him any more nervous than he already was by giving his first. We ate our way through the three courses and drank copious amounts of champagne, and then the Master of Ceremonies tapped a spoon against a champagne glass to get everyone's attention.

"Pray silence for the best man," The man said and the guests applauded and cheered as Sherlock rose to his feet. He buttoned his jacket, looking a little uncomfortable and he looked down at me. I nodded at him and smiled encouragingly at him. He had already run through his speech for me and I knew that it was going to be brilliant.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others," Sherlock started and he stopped and blinked. There was an awkward pause as I saw him trying to remember what he wanted to say, "Er ... w...," Sherlock said and John narrowed his eyes and looked up at him, waiting. "A-a-also ...," Sherlock continued and Mary lifted a thumb to her mouth, rubbing it on her top lip. Mrs. Hudson looked nervous and Greg sat back a little, looking concerned. Well, marriage was a partnership.

**Flashback**

**Third Person POV**

_Greg walked into Molly's lab at Bart's and she greeted him. _

_"Greg," Molly said happily as she saw him. They were all still trying to coordinate Lexi and Sherlock's wedding and had to take to meeting in odd places so they wouldn't find out. _

_"Molly," Greg greeted the pathologist who he had come to know better recently. _

_"I just had a thought," Molly said as she turned to him. She was holding a large metal bowl in front of her and Lestrade looked into it curiously. _

_"Is that a brain?!" Lestrade asked Molly in shock and mild disgust. _

_"What if John asks Sherlock to be his best man?" Molly asked Lestrade, not even commenting upon his questions as she was wrapped up in her own thoughts. _

_"Well, he will, won't he? He's bound to. And Lexi and Mary have already been talking like his is," Lestrade told Molly who nodded at him. _

_"Exactly," Molly said and Lestrade frowned slightly in confusion, not sure what she was getting at. _

_"So?" Lestrade asked her with a slight shrug. _

_"So he'll have to make a speech in front of people, people besides Lexi," Molly told him and Greg gazed into the distance as he realized the ramifications of this for the first time. "There'll be actual people there, actually listening. He's fine if it's just Lexi, but other people besides her…," Molly said shrugging her shoulders slightly. _

_"Well, what's the worst that could happen?" Lestrade asked the pathologist tentatively. What was the worst that could ever happen? So he would have to make a speech, Lexi would probably write it for him or at least help him write it. _

_"Helen Louise probably wondered the same," Molly told him and Lestrade frowned in confusion again._

_"Helen Louise?" Lestrade asked her and Molly looked down at the brain in her bowl. _

_At Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson was sitting in her kitchen and she answered the phone after it started ringing. . _

_"Oh, hallo, dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she noticed Molly's number. That girl was ever so sweet and she had been talking with her a lot more since they had been planning Sherlock and Lexi's wedding behind their backs. Molly was in her lab, wearing safety goggles and there was a bit of blood spatter on her lab coat. She was holding an electric bone saw in the blood-covered glove on her other hand. If she had known how messy this autopsy was going to get she would have called Sherlock and Lexi in to help her as they would have no doubt been interested enough in that to let other people go behind their backs to get any information they needed from their flat. _

_"I was just thinking. If-if John does ask Sherlock ...," Molly started with a laugh and Mrs. Hudson caught her off partially. _

_"What, the speech, dear? No, it'll be fine. Lexi would no doubt help him write it anyway," Mrs. Hudson assured her, knowing that Lexi would even help him give the speech if he needed her to. Those two acted like one person these days. They were completely in sync._

_"It-it's not just the speech, though, is it?" Molly asked her and then Mrs. Hudson thought about it and realized what she meant. _

_Shortly afterwards, John let himself in the front door of 221 and walked towards the stairs. High-pitched hysterical noises were coming through the open door of 221A. As the noises continued, punctuated with an occasional squeal of "Oh, dear!" and "Oh, brilliant!" John walked into Mrs. Hudson's flat and looked into the kitchen in concern. _

_"Mrs. Hudson?" John asked the older woman worriedly and she waved to him from the table, laughing hysterically._

_"Oh, hello, darling!" She greeted him as she continued to giggle._

_"You all right?" John asked her in concern and she covered her mouth, still laughing. "I was – I was coming to see Sherlock and Lexi, and I thought you were ...," John said before Mrs. Hudson waved him off. _

_"Go!" She told him giggling as she gestured him out again. _

_"... possibly dying," John finished his thought and he grinned at the sight of her mirth._

_"Oh, sorry!" Mrs. Hudson apologized as she continued laughing, seemingly unable to stop. _

_"What's wrong?" John asked her in amusement, wondering what could possibly be so funny. _

_"The-the telegrams!" Mrs. Hudson giggled and John frowned in confusion. _

_"Sorry, what?" John asked her, shaking his head slightly. _

_"Oh, sorry, dear!" Mrs. Hudson apologized again, not explaining any further as she stood up and patted his arm and then walked away, still shrieking with laughter. John looked bemusedly at where she had departed before he shook his head and turned around, walking out of 221A and up to the detective's flat. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

In the present**, **John closed his eyes in realisation. "Telegrams," John said quietly and Mary looked at him in confusion. Sherlock jolted out of his blankness as I reached up and put a hand on his arm.

"Right, um ...," Sherlock said awkwardly as he patted his pockets and then looked down at me with a pleading look in his eyes. John cleared his throat and Sherlock did likewise before looking at the guest swallowing hard.

"First things first, the Telegrams," I said as I stood up next to Sherlock and handed him the stack from the table. Sherlock showed them all to the guest, visibly relaxing as I leaned my head against his shoulder briefly with a grin before I looked up at Sherlock.

_'You are doing brilliantly love,'_ I told Sherlock with an encouraging nod. Sherlock smiled slightly at me for a brief moment before he looked back at the guests.

"Well, they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don't know why. Wedding tradition," Sherlock said as he lifted the first card. "...because we don't have enough of that already, apparently," Sherlock finished sarcastically as John narrowed his eyes a little. I giggled and Sherlock smirked in triumph as I shook my head at him.

"There not all that bad though," I reminded him with a slight shrug.

"Hmm, no, I'm sure a few of them I might enjoy," Sherlock said and I slapped him playfully on the arm as the rest of the guests laughed.

"Behave," I scolded him, knowing what he was insinuating to. "Read your cards," I told him, pointing down at the Telegrams that he was holding.

""To Mr. and Mrs. Watson. So sorry I'm unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford,"" Sherlock read out as he looked down at the first card.

"Ah, Mike," John said as Mary made an "ah" sound.

"He missed this?" I asked Sherlock and he nodded at me. "He practically got us together," I complained, shaking my head ruefully. Sherlock smirked at that and then leaned down and kissed the top of my head. The guests awed at that before Sherlock breathed in deeply and read off the next card.

""To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big ...," Sherlock said as he broke off and then continued slowly as he held the card up to see if he was reading it right. "...big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted,"" Sherlock finished and he looked up and blinked rapidly as Greg sniggered and Molly smiled. I giggled madly and held my hand up to my mouth to hide it as Sherlock looked down at me and rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation.

"What?" Sherlock asked me as we bantered back and forth like we normally would. I knew that was what he needed to get through this and I was all too happily to oblige.

"Did you just say "big squishy cuddles"?" I asked Sherlock, still giggling and he breathed out deeply as he closed his eyes in exasperation.

"Shut up," Sherlock told me and I raised my eyebrow at him as I shook my head, a devilish smirk on my face.

"Never," I told him and he smirked, shaking his head at me.

"If I can get through these without any more distractions from my wife, though she is terribly distracting," Sherlock said and the guests laughed as I leaned up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss his jawline. Sherlock looked down at the next card and started reading it as I read over his shoulder. ""Mary – lots of love,..."" Sherlock started before he breathed out an almost silent 'Oh'. John and Mary looked up at him as I giggled again.

"Yeah?" John asked us as I shook my head, fighting off a large smile.

""...poppet ..."" Sherlock continued despairingly and I giggled again as he loudly sounded the 't' at the end of the word. John and Mary giggled, realizing why I was laughing. ""…Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM,"" Sherlock continued and I noticed that Mary's smile faded as Sherlock continued reading the message. CAM was written with all capitals so it wasn't a name, but initials. Mary knew who this CAM person was and whoever it was, it wasn't someone good. ""Wish your family could have seen this,"" Sherlock finished and John looked round and saw Mary's face. He reached out and touched her hand as I frowned slightly. CAM, who was CAM?

"Hey. Hmm?" John asked Mary and she smiled at him reassuringly. Ah, so, something she didn't want John to know. I would have to discuss this with Sherlock later. I was sure that he had missed it because he was too concerned with getting everything right.

"Um, "special day" ...," Sherlock said as he looked at the next card before he dropped it onto the table and looked at the next one "..."very special day"...," He continued before he dropped that one and then continued working rapidly through the next ones "... "love" ... "love" ... "love" ... "love" ... "lo..."; bit of a theme – you get the gist. People are basically fond," Sherlock said and there was some laughter from the guests.

"Of course they are, this is John and Mary we're talking about. If people had actually been able to send us Telegrams…," I said before looking over to Mary and John. "And I'm not complaining there," I told them before looking back at Sherlock. "…I'm sure we would have gotten as many big "squishy" cuddles as them," I said and Sherlock grimaced as the guests laughed. "People are generally fonder of them though," I mused with a nod and Sherlock kissed me on the head before he continued with his best man speech, throwing me a thankful look for helping him. This was more like us talking now rather than a speech.

"John Watson," Sherlock said, getting back on track as he gestured towards our army doctor. "Our friend, John Watson," He added and he looked down for a moment and then looked back up at John. "John," Sherlock said, addressing our doctor directly and John smiled at him before flicking a look over at me and smiling a bit wider. Sherlock turned to his audience again as he reached down and took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles on my right hand. "When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused."

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_John trotted up the stairs to 221B after leaving Mrs. Hudson downstairs, still laughing manically. "Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he looked for the two detectives in the living room. He knew they were home. _

_"What was that noise downstairs?" Sherlock asked him and John turned into the kitchen. He was met with the sight of Lexi holding a finger up in a glove clad hand. She was poking at it and frowning slightly. It looked like the fingertip was blackened as if decaying a bit. Lexi was wearing Sherlock's blue dressing gown along with a pair of matching grey pyjamas with longer pants. Sherlock was standing at the table next to her in his camel coloured dressing gown. He was wearing safety glasses like Lexi was and he was holding an eyeball with a large pair of tweezers. He was also holding a lit blowtorch near to the optic nerve dangling behind it._

_"Hmm, it sounds like someone is dying. That'd be nice, it's been a bit too quite around here," Lexi commented as she held up her own blow torch. She grinned manically before she turned it on and set her severed finger on fire. "Not fresh enough for real data, but perfect for fun!" She said and Sherlock chuckled before he bent down and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him, grinning fondly and John shook his head at them, despite their sentimental and frankly adorable display of affection. _

_"Er, it was Mrs Hudson laughing," John said, answering Sherlock's question before he pointed at Lexi. "And I'm going to try really hard to pretend that you just didn't say that," John said, not knowing what was worse, her want for a murder to curb boredom or the fact that she thought setting severed fingers on fire was fun. _

_"Sounded like she was torturing an owl," Sherlock told him and Lexi giggled as she set her now torched finger into a beaker of acid. She pointedly held it up to show that she was using a beaker instead of a coffee cup for her experiment. _

_"Yeah. Well, it was laughter," John told them as he snorted at Lexi who added another chemical to her mad science experiment. The liquid in the beaker started to bubble and John really didn't want to know what she was going to do with it further. _

_"Could have been both," Sherlock muttered and Lexi nodded in agreement, humming slightly. _

_"Definitely both," Lexi said as John looked at what they were doing. He was more than used to them doing sordid experiments at the kitchen table. Still better than the severed head. _

_"Busy?" John asked them and Sherlock sighed heavily as Lexi sat back in her chair, taking her gloves off and throwing them into the biohazard bin she had gotten them for the flat. _

_"Just occupying ourselves," Sherlock told John as he lifted his head and looked dramatically towards the ceiling. "Sometimes, it's so-o-o hard not smoking," Sherlock complained and Lexi groaned as she ran a hand through her hair and held her head in her hands. _

_"Don't tempt me. I almost caved yesterday," Lexi groaned just as the eyeball slipped out of the tweezers in Sherlock's hand and dropped with a splash into a mug on the table. Sherlock looked down at it as Lexi leaned forward and overlooked it with interest. _

_"Oh," Sherlock said as Lexi leaned forward and poked the eyeball. It dunked under the tea and then bounced back to the surface. Lexi giggled and Sherlock sighed before smiling fondly at Lexi. _

_"Mm-hmm. Mind if I interrupt?" John asked them as Lexi got up and wiped her hands on a tea towel before pulling a tube of biscuits down from the cupboard and opened them. She nodded as she popped a Jammie Dodger into her mouth and then sat down again, kissing Sherlock's cheek as she passed by him. _

_"Er, be our guest," Sherlock told him as he put the tweezers down and gestured to the chair at the end of the table. He switched off the blowtorch and put it down while John walked over and pulled the chair back from the table. Lexi smirked at him in a very unsettling way. _

_"You're not interrupting much. If you'd come a bit earlier though…," Lexi said as she looked up at Sherlock who was smirking slightly and John held his hands up and quickly stopped her. _

_"No, no. I don't need to know," John told her and she laughed as Sherlock picked up the mug off of the table and offered it to him._

_"Tea?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi held out the tube of biscuits. _

_"Er ...," John said before he shook one hand to the decline the offers. The tea was a definite no and as for the biscuits, while John generally trusted the food when he used to live here, now that he didn't he couldn't be sure what might be edible and what might be hazardous. Sherlock put the mug down and both detectives took their glasses off. _

_"So, the big question," John said as he sat down and Sherlock hummed as he turned to face him, accepting a biscuit from Lexi and nibbling on it absentmindedly. "The best man," John said as he folded his hands and put them onto the table in front of him._

_"The best man?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi smiled at him knowingly._

_"What do you think?" John asked him as Sherlock instantly answered him with of all people, Billy Kincaid. John blinked back at him in confusion as Lexi bit her lip to hold in a giggle. "Sorry, what?" John asked Sherlock, not sure if he had heard him right. _

_"Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed," Sherlock told him quick fire and John frowned before looking at Lexi for an answer. _

_"Give him a minute," She told him quietly and John nodded at her as Sherlock continued. _

_"Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children's homes in north England," Sherlock said, continuing his ramblings about Billy Kincaid. John tiredly rubbed his fingers over his eyes as Lexi munched on her biscuits as she watched them both with interest. "Yes, every now and again there'd be some garrottings," Sherlock said with a slight grimace. "…but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I'd say …."_

_"For my wedding! For me. I need a best man. Mary's already asked Lexi to be her maid of honour," John told Sherlock as he interrupted him. _

_"Oh, right," Sherlock breathed with a nod as he finally seemed to catch on." And of course Mary asked her, why wouldn't she?" Sherlock scoffed slightly and John ignored that bit. _

_"Maybe not a garrotter," John said and Lexi laughed brightly at that._

_"Maybe not, no," Lexi agreed with a nod. _

_"Gavin?" Sherlock suddenly asked John, pulling back the army doctor and Lexi's attention. _

_"Who?" John asked as he frowned in confusion. _

_"Gavin Lestrade? He's a man, and good at it," Sherlock said and Lexi shook her head at him. _

_"It's Greg love," Lexi said at the same time John said, "It's Greg. And he's not my best friend." Sherlock looked at them both for a long moment before humming slightly. _

_"Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he's nice, um, though I'm not sure how well he'd cope with all ...," Sherlock said as Lexi suddenly banged her head down on the table. Both Sherlock and John looked down at her as she groaned but John continued, knowing she was just getting as exasperated as he was._

_"No, Mike's great, but he's not my best friend," John said, interrupting Sherlock again and Sherlock looked at him thoughtfully as if he couldn't think of another friend to suggest. "Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life._

_"Well ...," Sherlock said dubiously, pulling a face and Lexi looked up at him and raised her eyebrow warningly. _

_"No, it is! It is, which you should know because you technically got married too even if it wasn't legal and I want to be up there with the three people that I love and care about most in the world," John told Sherlock and Lexi turned her gaze to the army doctor. She reached across the table and put her hand over one of his and squeezed it with a fond smile on her face._

_"Yes," Sherlock said and John nodded at him. Clearly oblivious, Sherlock waited for him to tell him who these people were. John looked at Lexi and she nodded at him and sighed slightly to let him know that Sherlock was actually being serious. _

_"Mary Morstan ... Lexi…," John listed and Sherlock said yes again. John sighed tightly as the consulting detective still remained oblivious. "...and ...," John continued as he looked up at Sherlock, who was still waiting patiently for further information. Eventually John pulled in a long breath and just said it. "...you," John finished and Sherlock blinked rapidly several times but otherwise didn't move or react._

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"I confess at first I didn't realise he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and ... surprised," Sherlock told the guests as I thought back to how he had frozen solid and stared blankly in John's direction. He wasn't actually looking at him though and John tapped his foot patiently as he waited for his answer. "I explained to him that I'd never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it."

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_"Sherlock," John said worriedly as Sherlock was still motionless and still he didn't react. _

_"Love?" Lexi asked him as she looked up at him in concern and Sherlock blinked slowly and then again, confirmation that he had heard her at least was acknowledging her. Of course, John sort of expected that. Sherlock always answered Lexi and acknowledged her to some extent. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was – for me – as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated save for asking Lexi to marry me," Sherlock continued as he looked down at me and I smiled up at him fondly as he bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead before straightening and continuing. "Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he'd placed in me ...," Sherlock said as John frowned, unable to remember this conversation for good reason. "...and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being ... moved by it."

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_Sherlock was still fixed in place, staring sightlessly ahead of him. The silence dragged on for long seconds before John broke it._

_"That's getting a bit scary now," John said as he looked at Lexi who stood up and poked Sherlock in the chest. He didn't even look at her or blink or make any movement to show that he had noticed her in any way. _

_"I think you broke him," Lexi said as she looked back at John worriedly. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud as Lexi informed me in full," Sherlock said and John laughed along with Lexi who hugged Sherlock around the waist and put her head on his chest as some of the guest joined in.

**_Flashback Third Person POV_**

_"I'm sorry John," Lexi said suddenly and John frowned at her, not understanding what she meant. _

_"What for?" He asked her and she smirked slightly which was never a good sign. _

_"For you having to see this," Lexi told him before she put her arms around Sherlock's neck and pulled him down, crashing her lips against Sherlock's. John's eyes widened in shock as Sherlock finally responded, quite ardently too. He brought his hands up to Lexi's hips and pulled her tightly to him as he groaned. John looked away as their kiss deepened, Sherlock groaning slightly again as Lexi snogged him. Well, now he understood what she meant. They broke apart and John cleared his throat awkwardly as Sherlock's brain finally began to reboot and he took a deep breath. He swallowed and narrowed his eyes slightly as he refocused and looked at John from over the top of Lexi's head. The Irish detective had turned around in his arms so that her back was against his chest and she had her hands lightly over Sherlock's which were around her waist. She smirked at John slightly before winking at him and John looked away from her in exasperation before looking back. _

_"So, in fact ...," Sherlock said as he thought for a moment, his chin resting on the top of Lexi's head. "You-you mean ...," Sherlock stuttered as Lexi looked up at Sherlock. _

_"Yes," John told him but Sherlock continued his question. _

_"I'm your ...," Sherlock said and John nodded. "...best ..."_

_"...man," John said as Sherlock almost simultaneously finished his question with, "... friend?"_

_"Yeah, 'course you are. 'Course you're my best friend. Well, you and Lexi," John said, gesturing to the both of them and he smiled as Lexi leaned up and kissed Sherlock's chin before she sat down again and picked up her biscuit tube. Without looking down, Sherlock absently picked up the mug from the table and raised it towards his mouth. John watched with interest while Sherlock took a long slurping drink and Lexi blinked slowly, her biscuit half raised to her mouth as Sherlock swallowed his tea. Lexi blinked a bit more making an odd sound in the back of her throat. _

_"Well, how was that?" John asked Sherlock and the consulting detective licked his lips, thought about it for a moment, and then nodded._

_"Surprisingly okay," Sherlock said as inside the mug, the eyeball popped up to the surface of the tea._

_"Eyeball tea," Lexi said with a disgusted grimace as she put her biscuit back in the tube and shook her head. "Please use mouth wash before you kiss me again," Lexi told Sherlock and he nodded at her in agreement, pulling a slight face himself. "Well, pursuit of science I guess," Lexi said with a shrug before she picked her biscuit up and decided to eat it after all. _

_"So you'll have to make a speech, of course," John said and Sherlock offlined again for a moment before he looked at John. He turned around and walked back to the bathroom and John and Lexi could both hear the water turn on as Lexi got up._

_"What's he doing?" John asked her as she obviously seemed to know what he had went to go and do._

_"Using mouthwash," She told him with a smirk before she walked to the bathroom as the water cut off. John made a face as he heard Sherlock and Lexi giggled from the hallway. Some things he just didn't need to know about._

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock reached into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat, and taking out a handful of cue cards, looking at each one and putting it onto the table as he talked to himself. "Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm ...," Sherlock hummed as he showed me each of his cards and waited for me to nod before he skipped past them. He looked up at the guests again, then turned to John after getting my nod of approval. "I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you," Sherlock said as Mary looked surprised and John looked up at him. I leaned in to him as he spoke and he wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. "As Lexi has always known, all emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things," Sherlock said as he turned to look at the guests. "Lexi has always been the one exception in my life however and I can say I now understand the emotion of love," Sherlock said as he leaned down and kissed me, a slight peck on the lips. "A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world," Sherlock said and I snorted, rolling my eyes up at him. The guests began to look uncomfortable and some of them started murmuring quietly to each other. Greg and Molly looked at Sherlock in horror but I already knew where he was going with this. He had run everything by me first. "Today we honour the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species," Sherlock continued and the guests stared at him as silence fell over the room. Sherlock paused for a moment.

"You got married too!" Lestrade suddenly shouted and Sherlock nodded in agreement as I shrugged. Technically we had gotten remarried.

"Yes, in fact I have," Sherlock said as he looked down at me with a fond smile on his face. "I have a lovely wife too however Lexi and I have never been normal and thus the normal rules of marriage do not apply to us," Sherlock told Lestrade before continuing. "But anyway ...," Sherlock said as he looked down at his cards and then showed them to me. I hummed slightly as I saw what he was up to. "...let's talk about John."

"Please," John said quietly and I rolled my eyes slightly in exasperation. As if I would let Sherlock get up and make a speech without first having him tell me what he wanted to say first. Besides, Sherlock would never ruin this for John nor would he ever say anything to insult John. Sherlock looked up again, bringing me in front of him and hugging me around the waist as he rested his chin on top of my head before continuing.

"If we burden ourselves with a little help-mate during our adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with us," Sherlock said and I giggled quietly as Greg laughed silently at his table. "Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides Lexi and myself," Sherlock said and John sighed heavily while Mary frowned, looking at me in confusion. I raised my eyebrow at her slightly before looking back at the guests. "It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel," Sherlock said and Janine stared up at him and the other two bridesmaids looked uncomfortable.

"I'm fucking fabulous thank you!" Joanna said, speaking up from beside me where she had been quietly listening while plotting with Anthea. They were both rather amused at how Mycroft was being forced to sit alone with his parents right now while they sat up at the main table together. The guests laughed at her sudden outburst but Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Because you are my maid of honour and Anthea and you are more like sisters than bridesmaids," I told Joanna with a laugh and she nodded in approval before sitting back to listen to the rest of the speech.

"...but contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation ...," Sherlock said pointedly, trying to prove his point and the vicar smiled. "...or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot," Sherlock finished as Mary face-palmed and John half-hid behind his clasped hands. The vicar looked at Sherlock grimly, and more guests were muttering amongst themselves. Sherlock paused for a moment which was when I brought my hand up and smacked him roughly on the back of his head.

"Woman!" Sherlock shouted as some of the guests chuckled and the others smirked behind their hands. "Will you stop that?!" Sherlock asked me and I raised an eyebrow at him as I turned in his arms to look at him and he held my hands in both of his own.

"I will when you stop being rude," I told him as I shook my head, my Irish accent coming out thickly.

"That would be the day that hell freezes over sister mine," Mycroft told me and I looked to him, nodding a bit. Mummy took this moment to smack Mycroft in the back of the head.

"Don't be rude yourself Mike," Mummy scolded him and the guests all laughed as he rubbed his head, Joanna laughing hysterically beside me.

"And I was just coming over there to smack him myself," Joanna announced which made Mycroft look slightly thankful that his mother had been then one to hit him instead.

"The point I'm trying to make…," Sherlock said as he took back control of the room and took to hugging me again rather than detaining me. "…is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet," Sherlock finished and I looked up at him, frowning a bit.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," I told him quietly so that only he could hear me and he smiled at me slightly before he looked at the vicar and continued.

"I am dismissive of the virtuous ...," Sherlock said before he looked down at me again. "... blinding unaware of the beautiful...," Sherlock told me and I giggled slightly as he swooped down and captured my lips with his own. "Can you believe I married this woman?" Sherlock asked the guests who all awed over us and smiled at our happiness. Mycroft rolled his eyes but I gave him a pointed look before flicking my gaze over to Joanna. Sherlock turned towards Mary and John as I grinned in contentment in the circle of Sherlock's arms. "…I'm also uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I, like Lexi, never expected to be anybody's best friend," Sherlock said and the guests fell silent again as they listened to Sherlock intently. I noticed that Molly and Greg exchanged a long glance before I turned back to Mary and John and focused on them instead. "Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being we have ever had the good fortune of knowing. I cannot count Lexi in this category as she has always been more than a friend to me. She does however agree with me on these views John," Sherlock said as Mary smiled proudly at her husband. Several of the guests made appreciative "aww" sounds. "John, as Lexi would no doubt agree with me saying, but then again she did marry me, I am a ridiculous man...," Sherlock said and John smiled and nodded his agreement as I shook my head and laughed lightly, patting Sherlock's hands. "...redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship and the love that Lexi has so graciously bestowed upon me, both of which there can be no higher honour than receiving. But, as I'm apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion," Sherlock said and he looked down for a moment at me and then smiled a little. "Actually, now I can," Sherlock continued and the guests murmured again, but now their tone was much more approving. John and Mary smiled as I nuzzled my head into Sherlock's chest affectionately. "Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss ...," Sherlock said and we both leaned in closer to John at that, me because I had to go with Sherlock. "... so sorry again about that last one ...," Sherlock said as we straightened up again.

"We both are," I told John as I gave our army doctor and small smile.

"...so know this, today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man and woman you have saved – in short, the three people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary and Lexi as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that," Sherlock finished and Mrs. Hudson whimpered and held a tissue to her nose. Molly wiped tears from her eyes with her serviette. Other guests, even some of the men, sniffled. John turned to Mary and whispered to her but I could still make out what he was saying as I rested my head against Sherlock's chest.

"If I try and hug them, stop me," John told Mary and she shook her head slightly.

"Certainly not," Mary told him and she patted his arm as Sherlock moved on to his next card, holding it out in front of me so he could read it over his head. His best man speech sort of turned into our speech for John. That was how it should be though and how Sherlock had wanted it in the first place. It had always been the three of us from the very beginning, the trio, the Baker Street Irregulars, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys.

"Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John ...," Sherlock said and he trailed off as he looked up over my head and saw so many of the guests crying. "What's wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?" Sherlock asked quickly as Molly smiled at him proudly. "Lexi?" Sherlock asked me as I turned in his arms and put my hand on his cheek, rubbing his cheek bone. He frowned down at me, leaning into my touch however.

"Oh, Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said tearfully as Sherlock's frown deepened.

"Did I do it wrong?" Sherlock asked me before looking at John and I shook my head at him with a large grin on my face.

"No, you didn't," John said as he stood up. "Both of you, come here," John told us before he pulled Sherlock and me into a tight hug. The guest broke into applause as I pressed a kiss to John's cheek.

"We love you, you know," I told John quietly and he nodded into my shoulder. We loved John Watson as a friend and as a brother.

"We haven't finished yet," Sherlock told John on the other side of him.

"Yeah, I know, I know," John told us as I squeezed him a bit tighter before he released us and Sherlock held up his next card, talking over the applause.

"So, on to some funny stories ...," Sherlock said as he wrapped his arms around me again.

"Can you – can you wait 'til I sit down?" John asked him and Sherlock nodded above my head as the applause continued. I giggled and leaned up on tip toes, kissing Sherlock soundly for a moment as John sat down, clearing his throat, and the applause finally faded as Sherlock and I broke our kiss which was partially why John cleared his throat.

"So, on to some funny stories about John," Sherlock said and John chuckled as Sherlock looked at the guests over the top of my head. I was quite happy to be exactly where I was in his arms again. It was always where I felt the most relaxed and content. "If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would ...," Sherlock said and the guests all laughed "...be better," Sherlock finished as I looked up at him.

"I could always tell them that one story about when…," I began before John cut me off.

"No, dear God no!" John said and Mary chuckled brightly.

"Wait, that one?" Joanna asked me and I nodded at her and she broke down into giggles. "No, probably best not to," She agreed and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Fine," I told them as the guests looked at me in confusion.

"On we go then," Sherlock said as he kissed the top of my head affectionately. "So, for funny stories ...," Sherlock said as he let go of me briefly to reach into his pocket and take out his phone "...one has to look no further than John's blog," Sherlock said holding up his phone in front of me as he wrapped his arms around me again. John laughed as I wrinkled my nose slightly. "The record of our time together. Of course, he does tend to romanticise things a bit, but then, you know ...," Sherlock said as he looked down at John and Mary and half-winked at them "...he's a romantic."

"Watching him trying to purpose is painful though. I should know. I was there the first time," I said and the guests all laughed.

"That would have gone perfectly if you two hadn't ruined it," John said tetchily and I looked down at him, raising my eyebrow slightly.

"I'm sorry, I thought us being alive was important to tell you," I told John pointedly and he backed down slightly as Mary laughed. "Course, you did try to murder my husband. Upon reflection that didn't go exactly as we planned," I said with a shrug and Greg, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson made noises of agreement. "Still better than popping out of a cake though," I added and I looked up at Sherlock as he smirked down at me and hummed in agreement.

"Hmm, exceedingly better," Sherlock told me before we got back on track. "The three of us, John, Lexi, and I, have tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client ...," Sherlock started and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully at the remembrance of that case.

**Flashback**

**Third Person POV**

_John, Sherlock, and Lexi walked up the stairs and into the living room of 221B, then stopped dead at the sight that greeted them. In John's chair which was facing towards the door was a suit, laid out exactly as it would appear if there was actually anyone inside it and sitting in the chair. There was even a pair of shoes at the bottom of the trousers. _

_"Nope, nope. Not happening, nope," Lexi said before she turned around and started walking back down the stairs._

_"Where are you going?" John called after her as he and Sherlock kept an eye on whatever was sitting in his chair. _

_"Out, until you get rid of that or until I find a crucifix and holy water," Lexi called back before they heard the door shut downstairs. _

_"Well then," Sherlock said before he took a step towards John's chair. "Best get to it," He said as he bent over to inspect the suit. He had to get rid of it quickly as he wanted Lexi back with him sooner rather than later. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV **

"...the Poison Giant ...," Sherlock continued to list off and I nodded in agreement.

**Flashback**

**Third Person POV**

_A man was running across a rooftop. He was a person of short stature and he stopped and raised a blowpipe to his lips. _

_"Get down, John!" Sherlock shouted as soon as he saw it, pulling Lexi closely to him. They had discovered that he used poisoned darts that were quite deadly and he was also very accurate in his aim. The man blew into the pipe and on the other side of the roof Sherlock, Lexi, and John ducked down to avoid the dart which flew out of it, Sherlock tucking Lexi closely to him. They immediately jumped up again and ran on in pursuit of the man._

_"Lexi!" Sherlock shouted as she suddenly broke away from his side and put on a burst of speed. _

_"Don't even, this is nothing like Istanbul!" Lexi shouted back at him as she laughed and then did something which caused Sherlock's heart to drop. She jumped off the edge of the roof, disappearing as she followed after the man who had just climbed down the fire escape. Sherlock and John shouted in horror as they made it to the edge of the roof to see Lexi land on a fire escape on the opposite building before grabbing the railing and throwing herself over the edge before letting go and dropping the rest of the way down the building which was at least half the distance, ducking into a role to break her fall. "Well come on then!" Lexi shouted up at them before she ran on ahead. Sherlock and John caught up with her moments later to find her in the alleyway, using the lid of a bin as a shield against the darts before she threw it at the man. It knocked him in the head and he fell to the ground, hitting his head and getting knocked out. Lexi wiped her hands on her pants before she looked back at the boys who were staring at her with equal expressions of shock. "Well, that was tedious," She said before Sherlock shook his head and walked towards her, looking her over for injury and then kissing her soundly in relief which made John only feel slightly awkward as they snogged each other. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"We've had some frustrating cases ...," Sherlock said and I snorted and rolled my eyes in amusement. Frustrating was one way of putting it.

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_In 221B John sat down at the dining table with a mug of tea. He looked across to Sherlock and Lexi who were sitting together in Sherlock's chair. The consulting detective had one arm around Lexi's waist and with the other he was running his finger across his top lip and frowning down thoughtfully at a matchbox held in Lexi's hands. She was likewise frowning, her head tilted thoughtfully. _

_"What is that?" John asked them and Sherlock and Lexi looked over at him. _

_"A French decathlete found completely out of his mind, surrounded by one thousand, eight hundred and twelve matchboxes – all empty except this one," Sherlock said as he gestured down to the matchbox that Lexi was holding. _

_"And what's in that one?" John asked them curiously as Lexi handed it over to him. _

_"The inexplicable," Sherlock told John as the two detectives looked down at the matchbox. Sherlock slowly pushed the matchbox open. Whatever was inside glowed brightly, illuminating Sherlock and Lexi's faces. He grinned with delight as Lexi looked over at John._

_"You're a wizard Harry!" Lexi said ecstatically before Sherlock closed the matchbox and the light was extinguished. _

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

**"**...'touching' cases ...," Sherlock said rolling his eyes and I laughed slightly at that. Those were always the cases that he loved the most…not really.

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_John was standing at the window of 221B looking down into the street. "She's going to ring the doorbell," John narrated as he looked down at the young woman who was hovering outside Speedy's and looking towards 221's front door. She stopped and then turned around. "Oh, no. She's changed her mind," John told them as the woman walked away a few paces, then stopped and turned around again. "No, she's gonna do it ... No, she's leaving. She's leaving. ... Oh, she's coming back," John said and Lexi laughed as she got up from the couch, dog earring the page of her book before she set it down on the coffee table. _

_"Shall I make some popcorn while we watch her?" Lexi asked him as she walked over to Sherlock who was sprawled in his chair with his head raised towards the ceiling. His eyes were closed but he opened one eye lazily as Lexi carded her fingers through his hair. _

_"She's a client. She's boring. I've seen those symptoms before," Sherlock said and John hummed questioningly. "Oscillation on the pavement always means there's a love affair," Sherlock said before he opened his eyes and pulled Lexi down onto his lap as she giggled and then righted herself as he kissed her soundly. John shook his head at the two of them before grinning slightly. It was a good thing they were planning a double wedding._

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"... and of course I have to mention the elephant in the room," Sherlock told everyone and I clasped my hand over my mouth to fight back a peel of laughter. I had almost forgotten about that one.

**Flashback Third Person POV**

_The boys and Lexi stood in the doorway of what looked like a fairly ordinary room of a downstairs flat. They stared up wide-eyed at what they saw just inside the room. Sherlock opened his mouth as they looked at the elephant literally in the room which trumpeted loudly. Sherlock closed his mouth again as a mime walked into view from the door way and Lexi made an "Ah ha!" sound. The boys turned to look at her, worried for her sanity more than their own and Lexi pointed to the mime with an excited grin. _

_"I told you to check back with me later. Look, we found the mime! I knew that he would come in somewhere," Lexi told them proudly and Sherlock and John shared a look before rolling their eyes in unison as Lexi laughed manically__**. (A/N And there you are John, Matt, my reoccurring three things and a mime joke which started in season one, The Great Game, carried on in season two Scandal in Belgravia, and is finished now in season three. Kudos to anyone who can tell me the exact other points when the mime was mentioned in the story without looking it up.)**_

**End of Flashback**

**Lexi's POV**

"But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don't we?" Sherlock asked as he looked down at me and then at his phone. He handed it to me and I scrolled down and opened one of the pages on John's blog. We raised our eyes again to the guests as I smiled slightly.

"One of my personal favourites of the last few of our cases," I told the room as I handed Sherlock back his mobile.

"The Bloody Guardsman," Sherlock and I said in unison before we looked over at John whose eyes widened in surprise. It was one of the most interesting cases that we had seen so far and one that Sherlock and I were still looking into.


	94. The Bloody Guardsman

**Hello sweeties...so are we enjoying the case? Welcome back. It's finals week for me so I've been running around a lot already. Hope this brightens your day. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Two- The Bloody Guardsman<strong>

**One Month Ago…**

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock was standing in the living room of 221B looking at his information wall behind the sofa. Lexi walked out of the kitchen with a piece of toast in her hand and she walked over to Sherlock as she took a bite of it. Sherlock turned slightly towards her as she stopped beside him and he slid his arm around her waist. She laughed lightly and her cheek pressed against his as she leaned into him. She kissed Sherlock's cheek before offering him her toast. He took a small bite of it and chew while they looked over their wall of information before he turned to where Mary was sitting at the dining table and John was sitting in his armchair and looking at his phone, slipping both arms around Lexi's waist and hugging her from behind as he rested his chin on top of Lexi's head. She nuzzled her head into his chest with a fond smile on her face and John and Mary exchanged knowing looks. Sherlock and Lexi were even closer of late and even more affectionate with each other, seemingly no longer concerned if other people were around or not. They had no fear at all now that they were doing the right thing by planning a double wedding. It was one month until the big day and so far, neither of the detectives had figured out the plan yet.

"Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin," Sherlock said as Lexi patted his arm and then turned in his arms and hugged him as she pressed her face into his chest. Mary smiled at the sighed as Sherlock calmly breathed as if Lexi wasn't cuddling him. The Irish girl took another minute before she reached up on tiptoes and kissed Sherlock on the jaw. The consulting detective smiled down at her fondly before letting her walk away from him, back towards the kitchen.

"Ah, orphan's lot. Friends – that's all I have. Lots of friends," Mary said with a smile and Lexi walked out of the kitchen with a tea towel in her hands and a smile on her face as she walked over to Mary.

"And friends are also like family," Lexi said as she hugged the blonde woman. "Much better than my actual family," She added as Mary scrunched her face up next to Lexi's and rubbed the younger woman's arm.

"True," Mary said as Lexi straightened up and walked back into the kitchen, the water turning on briefly before she joined them again in the living room. She looked back up at the paperwork on the wall which was a lot of paperwork for the wedding. There was a list of things which needed to be done, all of them ticked off, and the wall was divided into areas which were headed, "Transport," "Catering," "Rehearsal," "Wine," and a few other areas as well. Lexi had gotten a bit happy with the Sharpie and the arts and crafts project as she called it. On the table beside Mary was a cardboard 3D model of the reception venue, again another project that Lexi had thrown together with Sherlock's help and tape and scissors.

"Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48," Sherlock told Lexi and she hummed in agreement and picked up a pen and paper and wrote that down before she straightened up and walked back over to him. Sherlock immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him again.

"But the rehearsal's not for another two weeks. Just calm down," Mary told the two detectives who were doing far more to plan the wedding than John and she were. The strangest part was that by doing so, they were planning their own wedding a bit as well. A lot of those plans were kept secret by Mary and John and the rest of the people helping them plan it. They had to be careful that no one knew all the plans so that they wouldn't be easily deductible. Everyone had a specific job that they had been assigned too by Joanna.

"Calm? We are calm. We're extremely calm," Sherlock told Mary and Lexi smiled slightly as she patted Sherlock's arm and then turned and pressed her lips to his. They kissed briefly before they broke apart and Sherlock smiled down at Lexi fondly.

"Now you are," Lexi told Sherlock cheekily before she turned to Mary. "He's right. Compared to normal, this is calm for us," Lexi pointed out and John snorted as he threw the Irish detective a knowing look. Normally they were a lot less calm when they didn't have a case, but it seemed that since Sherlock and Lexi came back, they could actually cope with not having a case. They just spent the free time with each other either out around London or cuddling in the flat. Cuddling apparently was all it took to entice Sherlock to sit still for more than five minutes.

"Let's get back to the reception, come on. We have this lovely diagram," Mary said as she flashed a smile at Lexi and Sherlock and Lexi walked over to the table to join her. "John's cousin. Top table?" Mary asked as she handed Lexi an RSVP card which Sherlock was reading over her shoulder. Lexi had a thoughtful frown on her face and Sherlock leaned his chin on top of her head.

"Hmm. Hates you. Can't even bear to think about you," Sherlock said as he looked down at the RSVP card. Lexi elbowed him slightly in the ribs and he chuckled as she also laughed.

"Which is very hard to believe because I love you and I hardly like anyone," Lexi told Mary as the blonde smiled at her and John flicked his gaze over to her. Mary reached out and squeezed Lexi's arm affectionately.

"Aww, thanks love," Mary told Lexi who she considered to be a sister to her. "And seriously?" Mary asked as she looked up at Sherlock and both detectives nodded, Lexi pulling a slight face.

"Unfortunately the deduction is right. John's cousin does hate you," Lexi remarked and Mary rolled her eyes before Sherlock explained their deductions.

"Second class post, cheap card ...," Sherlock said before he sniffed it and grimaced, holding it away from Lexi so she wouldn't have to smell it. "...bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp, three attempts at licking. She's obviously unconsciously retaining saliva," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted slightly at that in amusement.

"So pissed she doesn't even want to waste her spit on you. That's a new one," Lexi said with a slight chuckled and Sherlock grinned over her head and shook it in slightly in amusement.

"Ah," Mary said as she looked over her shoulder at John. "Let's stick her by the bogs," Mary decided and Lexi laughed again.

"Oh yes," Sherlock said as he sat down next to Mary, pulling Lexi down onto his lap.

"The best revenge," Lexi commented with a spark of amusement in her eyes and Mary smiled before leaning closer to them.

"Who else hates me?" Mary asked them and Sherlock reached into his pocket after Lexi leaned forward and he pulled out a piece of paper which he handed to Mary.

"We made a list," Lexi told her as Mary looked at the long list of names. "We also made files on everyone, but upon reflection that might have been going a bit too far," Lexi said with a frown and Mary looked back at John and they shared a look. Of course they would make files on their wedding guests. Of course it was slightly hard to plan where everyone was sitting since there were some guests that Lexi and Sherlock didn't know about.

"Oh great – thanks!" Mary told the two detectives in exasperation as she turned back to them and John pulled out his phone and looked down at it.

"Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting," John suggested loudly enough so that the two detectives could hear him. He and Mary had been trying to find a case for the two detectives to work recently but they hadn't been choosing anything oddly enough. Nothing was apparently interesting enough for them.

"Joanna's already looking into it out of interest. That and she was asked for help personally by the gallery," Lexi commented and John looked up at her in surprise having thought that neither of them were going to acknowledge him.

"Table four ...," Mary murmured, looking at paperwork on the table.

"Done," Sherlock told her and Lexi hummed in agreement as John chuckled at the story he had just read on his phone.

""My husband is three people,"" John read the headline aloud, interested to see if Lexi and Sherlock were listening to him as well.

"Table five," Mary said as Sherlock looked down at the list, moving Lexi slightly so that she was sitting across him and turned a bit so that she reach for a few more of their papers and also watch John at the same time.

"Major James Sholto. Who he?" Sherlock asked Mary as Lexi frowned slightly as she looked at a paper not related to the wedding, something that Joanna had sent her the day before.

"Oh, John's old commanding officer. I don't think he's coming," Mary answered Sherlock and John shook his head slightly.

"He'll be there," John told Mary and she looked back at him over his shoulder slightly.

"Well, he needs to RSVP, then," Mary told him as Lexi looked up from her file and then put it down on the dining table beside Sherlock.

"He'll be there," John repeated firmly and Mary hummed sceptically, but Lexi shot him a knowing look and a grin and nodded, silently telling him that she agreed with him. "My husband is three people." It's interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin," John read as he turned back to the news story which was honestly interesting. Lexi stood up when Sherlock nudged her and Sherlock stood before Lexi sat back down again.

"Identical triplets – one in half a million births. Lexi and I solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes," Sherlock said quick fire before he squatted down beside the coffee table, reached under it, and pulled out a tray with two serviettes folded into different shapes. He gestured to them as he looked up at Mary. "Swan, or Sydney Opera House?" Sherlock asked her, already knowing that Lexi personally liked the Opera House over the swan

"Where'd you two learn to do that?" Mary asked the two detectives in surprise as Lexi stood up and knelt down next to Sherlock on the floor.

"Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation ...," Sherlock started as he looked down and Lexi shook her head slightly as she looked up at Sherlock fondly.

"Fibbing, Sherlock," Mary said and Lexi nodded with a slight laugh.

"We once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of ...," Sherlock tried to lie again, but Mary cut him off with a sly smile again.

"I'm not John. I can tell when you're fibbing," Mary said and Lexi hummed as she looked back at Mary.

"He does that thing with his face," Lexi laughed and Mary nodded as Sherlock turned to look at Lexi his expression slightly disgruntled.

"What thing?" Sherlock asked her as he furrowed his brow in confusion and she leaned toward him with a fond smile on his face.

"The thing you're doing now," Lexi told him as she cupped his cheeks and then kissed him, pulling back with a smile.

"Well, I can't see it now can I?" Sherlock asked her as they broke apart and Lexi laughed as she remembered that he said the same exact thing before about his "We all know what's going on here" face back during Moriarty's trial.

"Ahh, but I can and it's doing a thing," Lexi told him and she kissed him again before Sherlock turned to Mary, pulling Lexi closer to him.

"Okay – we learned it on YouTube," Sherlock confessed to Mary in exasperation.

"I confess that I introduced him to it. We got a bit distracted for a while when I found some cool crime videos and then cat videos," Lexi said, frowning slightly and John chuckled from his chair. "So what will it be?" Lexi asked as she redirected the conversation back to the question they first asked.

"Opera House, please," Mary told them before she leaned to one side and reached into her trouser pocket. "Ooh, hang on. I'm buzzing," Mary told them as she took out her phone and lifted it to her ear. "Hello?" Mary asked and she listened for a second, then stood up. "Oh, hi, Beth!" Mary said and John's eyes lifted from his phone as Mary headed for the kitchen, throwing him a pointed look as she crossed the living room. "Yeah, yeah, don't see why not," Mary told Joanna who was on the other line in order to let her know that she still wasn't in a place where she could talk that was not within hearing range of Sherlock and Lexi.

"Actually, if that's Beth, it's probably for me too. Hang on," John told the two detectives as he stood up and looked at them. Lexi hummed in agreement before she resumed cuddling next to Sherlock on the floor. John headed for the kitchen, while Sherlock sat down on the floor cross-legged, Lexi pulled onto his lap as they faced the coffee table. In the kitchen, John smiled at Mary as he walked closer to her.

"They know we don't have a friend called Beth. They're gonna figure out that it's code," John whispered to Mary and she lowered her phone slightly.

"They haven't figured it out yet," Mary whispered back to him and John nodded in agreement before she raised her phone to her ear again. "So, Beth, how is Michael?" Mary asked Joanna, Michael being Mycroft's code name even if he detested it. They had had to come up with a way to talk to the others without Sherlock and Lexi catching on to who they were talking to which meant that the entire group of secret wedding planners, now calling themselves the Baker Street Irregulars, had a code name. Joanna snorted slightly in amusement and John chuckled slightly.

"Myc, got Mummy and Papa Holmes' travel plans settled this morning so they will be at the wedding and they've both been told to keep the information to themselves. Greg can also officially marry the two of them now and Molly and I are covertly settling on the last of Lexi's outfit for the wedding. We're figuring out her shoes and their wedding bands. Everything should be set into place by the end of the week and then we only have to worry about last minute changes. And making sure that neither of them find out about this until the day of but that is a given. Myc believes that if they haven't figured it out now, they never will which I agree on. We've been careful and between all of us, we're more than a match to confuse them," Joanna said brightly and John and Mary both breathed a sigh of relief to know that everything was coming together without a hitch.

"Alright, wonderful Beth, that's great news. John and I should meet up with you and Michael soon. It's been ages since we've seen you," Mary said, speaking just a tad bit louder so that Lexi and Sherlock would just think it was them chatting about couple things like double dates.

"Really? Myc thinks it hasn't been long enough. He's antisocial enough for the both of us. We should get together though. All of us need to run over the plan at least once more and make sure we are all on the same page. Count down until Miracle Day has already begun and yes John, our secret wedding does need a secret project name. What else am I here for other than coordinating some of the hardest things imaginable? You two should have seen the Korean elections. Mycroft is lucky that I did most of the work, it was an utter nightmare. Actually no, you shouldn't have seen anything, forget I said that," Joanna said her voice becoming slightly distant as she leaned over and picked up some papers from her desk. Mycroft entered her office just then and she held up a finger to him for a moment. "Got to go kids, duty calls," Joanna said before she hung up, leaving John and Mary feeling slightly better. At least they knew that everything was in place. Now it was just up to everyone to keep this a secret from the two consulting detectives.

"They're still going to figure it out. This is Sherlock and Lexi we're talking about. I don't like some of the looks she's been giving us. It's like she knows we're up to something. Once she knows that she'll start investigating and out of the two of them, she would be able to figure it out," John hissed quietly to Mary who rolled her eyes and shook her head at her soon to be husband.

"We're fine. They more worried about each other," Mary said as she gestured back to the living room and they leaned out of the kitchen to find Lexi and Sherlock snogging on the floor. Mary grinned smugly as this proved her point. "They're a bit distracted lately if you haven't noticed and they've been You Tube-ing serviettes," Mary told John pointedly.

"They're thorough," John defended them, getting where Mary was going with this now.

"They're terrified," Mary told him, knowing full well that both Sherlock and Lexi were terrified about their wedding even if they were trying to hide it.

"'Course they're not," John told Mary, though not exactly believing it entirely himself. He had to admit that Sherlock and Lexi seemed a little too into the wedding planning lately in an almost alarming capacity.

"Right, you know when you're scared of something, you start wishing it sooner just to get it all going? That's what they're doing," Mary explained to John. Joanna had already agreed with Mary that the two detectives were throwing themselves into the wedding planning because they thought that if the wedding planning was done, the wedding would be done sooner.

"Why would they be scared that we're getting married? It's not gonna change anything – we'll still do stuff and he'll still have Lexi. It's not like that is going to change and she wouldn't go anywhere without pitching a fit," John said, still confused about how him marrying Mary would scare Sherlock and Lexi. So far as he knew the both of them were thrilled. Well, Lexi was and she claimed that Sherlock was as well even if he didn't explicitly show that he was. He liked Mary though…about as much as he liked anyone who wasn't Lexi.

"Well, you need to prove it to them. I told you to find them a new case," Mary whispered to John hurriedly. She knew that they just needed to go out on a case with John and be shown that nothing was going to change with him marrying her. Of course they were worried about that. Mary believed that Lexi was even more terrified than Sherlock was. For Sherlock, John had always been his best friend and you couldn't count Lexi because she had always been more than a friend to him. For Lexi though, Mary knew that her boys as she called them were everything to her. Lexi regarded John as a brother and it had always been the three of them. She claimed that it was Sherlock and John that got her to work cases again. She needed them both and Mary knew that.

"I'm trying," John told her in exasperation. He kept trying to suggest cases to the two detectives, but they hadn't seemed interested in any of them, not even the ones that were a bit odd.

"You need to run them, okay? Show them it's still the good old days," Mary told John as she nodded encouragingly to him. John didn't immediately respond, and she nodded again and gestured towards the living room. Now, she wanted him to find them a case now? John looked around, then turned and slowly started towards the door between the kitchen and the living room. Mary put her hands on his back and shoved him forward and John looked back at her in exasperation. When he entered the living room again he was met with the sight of the two detectives still sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Lexi sitting between Sherlock's legs with the detective's arms wrapped around her. Sherlock's head was propped up on Lexi's shoulder and they both briefly looked round at John and then turned back towards the coffee table. Sherlock gestured at what was in front of them and John finally noticed that there were at least seven serviettes folded in Sydney Opera House shapes on the table, and sixteen or so more on the floor.

"That just sort of ... happened," Sherlock told John as the two detectives looked round at the army doctor again who frowned and then smiled when he saw Lexi's wide grin.

"It's fun!" Lexi said excitedly and Sherlock threw her an amused look at how childlike she looked and was acting. "You should have seen Mycroft's flat when I learnt to make paper snowflakes," Lexi added and John and Sherlock both smirked at Lexi in amusement as the girl held up one of the serviettes and played with it, Sherlock taking it from her and putting it on the coffee table a moment later. John glanced back at the kitchen for a moment, knowing that Mary was listening to what was going on before he walked towards Sherlock and Lexi, hoping her could lie convincingly enough. So far Lexi's argument that he couldn't lie was unfounded as he had been doing pretty well with keeping their wedding a secret. Lexi had given him a few lessons before after the case with Irene.

"Sherlock, Lexi, um ...," John started and the two detective stood up or rather Sherlock did, carrying Lexi with him. She made a slightly disgruntled face and he kissed her forehead before she grinned fondly at him and John paused slightly at their display of affection as he thought about how to put this. "...mates ...," John said, frowning briefly as he wondered if he was overdoing it. "I-I've ...," John continued as he walked over to the dining table and Sherlock and Lexi glanced towards the kitchen where Mary could be heard talking as if she was on a phone call. Once they seemed to establish that their conversation would not be over heard, John and Sherlock both sat down at the table, Sherlock pulling Lexi onto his lap as usual. "I've smelled eighteen different perfumes; I've sampled ...," John said, pausing to think before continuing. "...nine different slices of cake which all tasted identical; I like the bridesmaids in purple ..."

"Lilac," Sherlock and Lexi interrupted in unison.

"Lilac is a distinctive shade. Not to be confused with lavender. Lilac is more of a pinkish purple which is why we had to choose it because of the other wedding colours that Mary made me help decide on," Lexi told him and John almost grinned at how she would still interrupt and continue on with an explanation about something she knew that hardly seemed relevant. Sherlock liked her ramblings as much as John did though, they were entirely Lexi.

"... alright then lilac," John said and Lexi nodded at him approvingly and John rolled his eyes a bit at her as he grinned ever so slightly. "Um, there are no more decisions left to make. I don't even understand the decisions that we have made. I'm faking opinions and it's exhausting, so please, before she comes back ...," John told them as he glanced towards the kitchen as if he was making sure Mary wasn't coming and then activated his phone, cleared his throat, and held the phone across the table, the screen showing Sherlock's "Science of Deduction" website. "...pick something," John told the two detectives as their eyes flickered down to the screen a couple of times. "Anything. Pick one."

"Pick what?" Sherlock asked John for clarification that he really was asking for what he thought he was asking. Most times John didn't like him and Lexi taking him away from his girlfriends and Mary was his fiancée, far more than a simple girlfriend. John blinked a few times and laughed, not sure if he had heard Sherlock right. Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, her hazel eyes studying him and John felt a bit uneasy as if she was deducing him entirely.

"A case. Your Inbox is bursting. Just ... get me out of here. Please Lexi. Just the three of us like it used to be," John pleaded with the Irish detective who raised her eyebrow slightly before she flicked her gaze over to the kitchen almost questioningly.

"You want to go out on a case? N-now?" Sherlock asked John in disbelief, having figured that John wanted to plan his wedding instead of go out on cases with them which was why they had been heling rather than taking cases themselves. The consulting detective leaned closer, forcing Lexi to lean with him as he spoke quietly.

"Please, Sherlock, Lexi for me," John pleaded with them and Lexi suddenly smirked a bit which made John freeze, figuring that she had seen right through him.

"Well, we can't say no to that now can we?" Lexi asked him with an amused look on hr face and John breathed a sigh of relief as Sherlock took John's phone from him.

"Don't you worry about a thing, we'll get you out of this," Sherlock assured John quietly before he started to flick through messages on his website, holding the mobile up so that Lexi could look through them with him. After only a few seconds they found something of interest. "Oh," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

**Flashback**

_In a military barracks inside a grand building, two members of The Queen's Foot Guards wearing full dress uniform and carrying their tall fur bearskin caps walked up the stairs. "Dear Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna, My name is Bainbridge. I'm a Private in Her Majesty's Household Guard. I'm writing to you about a personal matter..."_

_Outside Wellington Barracks in London, Bainbridge was one of two men standing on duty outside the gates in the full uniform of the Welsh Guards. A female Japanese tourist stood beside him posing with her thumbs up while her male friend took photographs._

_"...one I don't care to bring before my superiors – it would sound so trivial – but I think someone's stalking me."_

_Over on the other side of the road, three tourists were taking photos of the view. Bainbridge, with his gaze fixed ahead of him as he must do while on duty, had a clear view of them._

_"I'm used to tourists, it's part of the job, but this is different. Someone's watching me."_

_The tourists across the road walked away but standing behind them was a man with the hood of his jacket pulled up and obscuring the view of his face. He seemed to be looking directly at Bainbridge but as soon as the tourists were no longer blocking him, he turned and walked away.)_

_"He's taking pictures of me every day."_

_Inside the barracks, Bainbridge walked across his dorm room, which overlooked the parade ground, bare chested. He idly looked out of the window and saw the usual group of tourists outside the gates but his attention was immediately drawn to a man wearing an overcoat and with a cap on his head. The man was standing close to the fence and was initially aiming his camera in a different direction, but he then swung the camera across and up to point at Bainbridge in the window._

_"Don't want to mention it to the major, but it's really preying on my mind."_

_The man snapped a couple of photographs, then hurried away._

_"I've heard that you two are the best and Ms. MacKenna, you're known for being skilled in all manners of surveillance. The major's already told us all to keep an eye out for you around the place after the incident at Buckingham Palace. If anyone might be able to figure this out, it's you two." _

**End of Flashback**

"Uniform fetishist. "All the nice girls like a soldier,"" Sherlock recited as he continued to read off of the phone.

"It's "sailor"," John corrected him and Lexi shook her head at him.

"No, I think it's solider. The rest of the girls like consulting detectives in funny hats," Lexi giggled and Sherlock shot her a fond look before he kissed the side of her head.

"And Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a bloke," John corrected, ignoring Lexi's comment, but shooting his mates a smile at their display of affection. Sherlock looked at the phone again, reading more of Bainbridge's email. "Let's go and investigate. Please?" John asked them and Lexi raised her eyebrow thoughtfully as she tilted her head to the side, thinking about it.

""Elite Guard,"" Sherlock read before he flicked a questioning look at Lexi.

"Forty enlisted men and officers," John explained to them and Lexi hummed slightly.

"Nice. If anything he's doing well for himself. Glad to know that they've all been told about me," Lexi smirked and John snorted and rolled his eyes, knowing that she would be the person who would enjoy something like that.

"Why this particular Grenadier? Curious," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed slightly before she leaned back and kissed his cheek.

"Now you're talking," John told the two detectives before Lexi turned slightly to look at Sherlock.

"Promising," Sherlock told Lexi and she nodded, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"Very," She told him as John looked between them, not sure what they were doing exactly.

"Indubitably," Sherlock said and Lexi giggled before leaning down and kissing him soundly. Sherlock smirked up at her as they broke apart. "Should we?" Sherlock asked her and she nodded at him as John frowned in confusion.

"We should," Lexi said and they both turned back to John, Sherlock handing John his mobile back.

"Okay," Sherlock told John and the army doctor perked up. The trio stood up and walked towards the doors just as Mary came back into the room with her phone at her ear.

"'Bye," Mary said into her phone, playing the part that she had just finished her call.

"Er, we're just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock and Lexi to help me choose some, er, socks," John lied to Mary as Sherlock simultaneous said "…ties."

"Why don't we go with socks?" Mary asked the boys as she looked between them, as Lexi smirked slightly in amusement.

"Yeah," John agreed with her and Mary saw Lexi roll her eyes slightly.

"I mean, you've got to get the right ones," Mary continued and Lexi bit back a grin, Mary catching on to the fact that she knew exactly what was going on. Of course it was folly to think that she wouldn't have figured it out immediately.

"Exactly – to go with my ...," John said before he and Sherlock finished his sentence.

"...tie," Sherlock finished as John simultaneously said "...outfit."

"We actually have to look for both," Lexi said, stepping in and John and Sherlock shot her thankful glances as Lexi ignored them. "Don't leave Sherlock alone in a clothes store, really just don't do it," Lexi said, shaking her head fondly and Mary grinned at her as John stood in amazement at how quickly she could think up an excuse. "And of course you need the proper footwear. It's essential. Should have seen one of the post mortems I've done. Life lived without proper footwear…it's not a pretty sight," Lexi said before she turned back to John. "Bunions," She said as she pulled a face and John bit back a laugh. "It was certainly educational," Lexi said and Mary nodded slightly as she hid her own smile.

"That'll take a while, right?" Mary asked them as she looked towards John and John pointed towards the kitchen.

"My coat in there?" John asked Mary, ignoring her question.

"Yes!" Mary answered him brightly and John walked into the kitchen. Mary, Sherlock, and Lexi walked closer together, Sherlock's arm around Lexi's waist and Mary smiled at the two of them fondly.

"Just going to take him out for a bit – run him," Sherlock told Mary quietly as Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly and sent Mary a knowing look.

"I know," Mary said and the two detectives smiled at her. "You said you'd find him a case!" Mary said gesturing happily at them.

"Of course, this is us we're talking about," Lexi laughed quietly and Sherlock hummed in agreement.

"Come on, Sherlock, Lexi," John said from the kitchen doorway.

"Coming," Sherlock told him and he turned and went to the living room door, Lexi standing next to Mary still, but only where Sherlock would be able to see her. Sherlock turned back to face Mary as Lexi crossed her arms over her chest, smiling ruefully. Unseen by each other, Sherlock did a double thumbs-up at Mary and Lexi and gave her an "only you and I know about what we're doing here" grin, while from the kitchen John circled his thumb and forefinger at Mary, unable to see Lexi who could see him quite clearly, and winked much the same message. Mary held up her thumbs to both of them and grinned widely. The boys both turned and headed for the stairs as Lexi waved Sherlock off and sent him a silent look that she would be down in a minute.

"You know what's going on here right?" Mary asked Lexi as she turned to her and Lexi grinned widely and nodded with a laugh.

"Oh yeah," Lexi said and Mary sighed slightly. "Of course if they both think I'm going along with it, they'll believe it more. They both need to see that nothing is going to be different. I think John worries about it too," Lexi said and Mary hummed in agreement with her.

"Do you need to be reminded too?" Mary asked Lexi and Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and then shook her head.

"No, I know I'll always have my boys. That's never going to change," Lexi told Mary with a large smile and Mary nodded at her, smiling as well. "Well, I should go. Someone needs to look after them. I'll get John back to you in one piece," Lexi promised Mary.

"Promise?" Mary asked the Irish girl as she made for the stairs and grabbed her coat and scarf up off of the peg and Lexi turned back around to face Mary.

"Always," Lexi promised and she turned and walked down the stairs to join her boys. Every time she left Baker Street, every time she left with them on a case, she made that same promise, she would get them all home in one piece and so far, she hadn't failed them on that yet. She threw her coat and scarf on as she walked down the stairs before walking out to the curbing and sliding into the cab next to Sherlock. The game was on.

**John's POV**

The trio made it to the barracks where Bainbridge had told them to come and meet him if they decided to take the case and Lexi watched a group of Guards marching back to the barracks as she, Sherlock, and John made their way to the barracks themselves. The Guards arrived back and were in the parade ground marching into position preparing to be dismissed.

"Company, halt! ... Right turn!" The parade sergeant shouted as the trio stood at the entrance to the barracks. John gave his wallet containing his military ID card to the duty sergeant as Lexi also handed him her own government issued ID which Joanna had acquired for her.

"We're here to see Private Stephen Bainbridge," John told the duty sergeant who was looking over Lexi's ID. He looked up at Lexi and looked her over before snorting slightly and Lexi raised her eyebrow with an unamused look on her face.

"He's on duty right now, sir ...," The duty sergeant told John as he handed his wallet back to him and then Lexi's back to her. "...but I'll certainly let him know when he's free."

"And when will that be?" Sherlock asked the duty sergeant in irritation and Lexi closed her eyes briefly before opening them as if she was calculating something.

"Another hour," The duty sergeant told them and Lexi nodded before taking Sherlock's hand in hers and promptly turning and walking away. Sherlock made no protest and went with her forcing John to look after them in exasperation before he hurried after them.

Bainbridge, with another Foot Guard, was on duty outside the gates of the barracks. He stood fixed in position and tourists took photographs around him. On the other side of the road and a few yards back from the pavement, Sherlock, Lexi, and John were sitting on a bench in the park looking towards the gates which Lexi had led them directly too. Sherlock had sat before pulling Lexi onto his lap and John realized that when she closed her eyes, she was trying to remember if she had seen some place where they could sit and watch Bainbridge while he was on duty.

"Do you think they give them classes?" Sherlock asked John suddenly as he played with Lexi's hair which she had left down today. She snuggled back again his chest comfortably and played with the sleeves of her coat.

"Classes?" John asked Sherlock in confusion as Lexi snorted slightly, obviously understanding what Sherlock meant.

"How to resist the temptation to scratch their behinds?" Sherlock asked and Lexi laughed, Sherlock smirking in triumph before he kissed her on the cheek.

"Afferent neurons in the peripheral nervous system," John said and Sherlock turned his head slightly in John's direction as Lexi pointed at him and laughed again. "Bum itch," John said, smirking slightly at how Lexi had gotten his joke because she had a medical background while Sherlock didn't.

""Oh!" Sherlock said and he smirked slightly as Lexi shook her head at the both of them fondly.

"The pair of you. I'd almost forgotten that this is what we do," Lexi snorted and the boys looked at her questioningly. "We sit around, do something a bit clever and the rest of the time we just faff around," Lexi laughed and both boys chuckled before they sat in silence for a few long moments.

"So why don't you see him anymore?" Sherlock asked John suddenly and Lexi hummed slightly in agreement with him.

"Who?" John asked them in confusion, not exactly sure who they meant.

"Your previous commander, Sholto," Sherlock clarified as Lexi frowned slightly in thought.

""Previous commander"," John snorted, a bit unsure what Sherlock meant by that.

"I meant "ex"," Sherlock corrected himself, briefly closing his eyes awkwardly.

"Even better love," Lexi snorted and Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes at her in exasperation.

"Shut up," Sherlock told her in a playful way and Lexi grinned mischievously.

"Make me," Lexi challenged him and Sherlock leaned forward and kissed her soundly. She rolled her eyes after they broke apart and John shook his head at Sherlock's smug look and Lexi's slightly miffed one.

""Previous" suggests that I currently have a commander," John told Sherlock who nodded slightly as he resumed playing with Lexi's hair.

"Which you don't," Sherlock told John and Lexi bit back a smirk.

"Which I don't," John agreed and Lexi snorted, both boys turning to look at her.

"'Course you don't," Sherlock told John just as quickly as John had agreed with him.

"Actually you do," Lexi told the army doctor and John and Sherlock both raised an eyebrow at her. Lexi breathed in deeply before she looked between the both of them. "Boys, women tell you to do things and you do them without even realizing that you have. I'm not going to say that we're your commanders, but if anyone is, it's us," Lexi told them and Sherlock snorted slightly and rolled his eyes. "You should see Joanna and Mycroft. Actually no," Lexi said, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. "There are some things you just can't unsee," Lexi told them and Sherlock quickly changed the subject.

"He was decorated, wasn't he? A war hero," Sherlock asked John who caught on to the fact that Sherlock was trying to get off of the topic that was starting to go into Mycroft and Joanna's sex life.

"Not to everyone. He led a team of crows into battle," John told them and Lexi listened to him interestedly.

"So that is what it is. I did wonder," Lexi commented and John's eyes widened slightly in surprise as her comment suggested that she knew who Sholto was or at least had looked him up which that part wasn't so surprising.

"Crows"?" Sherlock asked John, unfamiliar with the term.

"New recruits. It's standard procedure; break the new boys in – but it went wrong. They all died; he was the only survivor. The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you two," John told them and Lexi snorted slightly ad Sherlock shrugged.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," Sherlock told John as he looked back at Lexi and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Fifty three death threats in the last sixty seven days. I made a list, Joanna has a file," Lexi said and John looked at her in shock. Had they really had that many death threats in such a short period of time? Lexi's serious look told him that yes, yes they had.

"Why have you two suddenly taken an interest in another human being?" John asked them, changing the subject off of death threats. It was still really difficult for John to think of his friends as dead, dying, or in danger of death.

"And since when have we not taken an interest in other people? People fascinate us," Lexi commented as she raised her eyebrow at John and he nodded slowly.

"Yeah, as puzzles, not as people," John told her pointedly and she shrugged at him with a level expression.

"As people too. There are always exceptions, you were one," Lexi told him and John watched the two of them, realizing that Lexi was being honest with him.

"And anyway, we're ... chatting," Sherlock told John and the army doctor raised his eyebrows and looked round at him. Sherlock half-turned his head and looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Won't be trying that again," Sherlock said as he turned his head back to the front and then kissed Lexi's head as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

"Changing the subject completely ...," John told the two detectives as he pulled in a breath through his nose, then looked at Sherlock and Lexi again. "...you know it won't alter anything, right, me and Mary, getting married? We'll still be doing all this."

"Oh, good," Sherlock said nonchalantly as Lexi raised her eyebrow slightly at him.

"If you two were worrying," John added and Lexi looked at John pointedly as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. The look made John wonder exactly what she was thinking.

"Wasn't worried," Sherlock told John and John looked down and chuckled thoughtfully.

"Never was to begin with," Lexi said and John looked up at her. "Look, I've been telling Sherlock that there's nothing to be worried about already," Lexi said and Sherlock played with her hair, staring a head as if he didn't want to listen to this conversation. "I know my boys. It's hard to give up this life and I should know, I've tried it before," Lexi continued and Sherlock frowned slightly, taking more interest in the conversation. "You two got me working cases again. It's always going to be the three of us. I don't think we can give up this life or each other," Lexi said and John and Sherlock nodded at her slowly before Sherlock kissed the side of her head and John looked away from them thoughtfully.

"See, the thing about Mary – she has completely turned my life around; changed everything. But, for the record, over the last few years there are three people who have done that ... and the other two are ...," John said before he looked round to find that Sherlock and Lexi were no longer sitting at his side. "...a complete dickhead and his wife," John finished and he looked all around the park, but there was no sign of said dickhead or his wife anywhere.

**Third Person POV**

Inside the barracks, the duty sergeant sat at his desk looking through paperwork. Through the window behind him, three pairs of Guards marched past, only the upper part of their bodies and their bearskins visible. A seventh and eighth bearskin-wearing person marched behind them ... except that these two were wearing a highly non-regulation Belstaff coat and a grey trench coat. Outside, Sherlock and Lexi marched along behind the others, smartly swinging their arms, then they stopped, took off their bearskins, Lexi's hair cascading down around her shoulders now that it was free of the bearskin. They put the bearskins down on a nearby ledge and Lexi grinned back at Sherlock who smirked at her, their plan having so far worked perfectly. Lexi reached up and ruffled his flattened hair back to perfection for him before he leaned down and kissed her soundly. Lexi giggled before taking Sherlock's hand in hers and leading him off across the parade ground. This is where her innumerable skills in stealth came in handy. They both had plenty of experience with sneaking into places they didn't belong. Apparently they hadn't been warned enough or weren't that observant if they were both able to get into the parade ground so easily. Well, that was nothing to them, just their luck that it worked. Not that they wouldn't have found a way in if their first plan hadn't worked.

Inside the barracks, Sherlock and Lexi walked across the entrance hall towards one of two flights of stairs. Two Guards wearing standard khaki army attire walked down the other flight and Sherlock and Lexi turned their heads away from them and continued walking up the stairs. Through years of practice Lexi discovered that the best way to stay invisible was to keep walking. If you froze or paused you drew way more attention to yourself. The two detectives trotted up the stairs, employing the "I'm invisible if I don't look at you" trick again partway up when two more soldiers walked across the landing. Lexi smirked back at him as they reached the landing, moving stealthily around the building. They could hear several voices talking and laughing from a nearby room, and they walked across and opened the door. Inside was a rec room where many soldiers were sitting and chatting. Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes as no one even looked up when they walked in. She shook her head as most people were interested in the two soldiers playing table tennis rather than in the two people that most certainly did not belong in their midst's. They didn't see Bainbridge anywhere and Lexi nodded before Sherlock closed the door again and they moved on.

Outside the barracks, a new Guard came to relieve Bainbridge. He marched over, turned to stand at Bainbridge's side, and shuffled sideways until their shoulders touched. Bainbridge marched forward a few paces, then turned and marched into the barracks.

Inside, now holding his bearskin under his arm, he walked up the stairs. His face was rather sweaty and he felt slightly lightheaded. He walked into the shower room, put the bearskin down, and undid his white webbing belt, grimacing a little as he felt a sudden twinge of pain in his stomach. Putting the belt down, he started to unbutton his jacket.

**John's POV**

In an office nearby, an officer called Major Reed was sitting behind his desk and looking at John's military ID card. He looked up at John who was sitting opposite him. John had gone back to see if Bainbridge had come off of duty yet, figuring that that was where Sherlock and Lexi were heading but he had gotten detained by Major Reed who John assumed was the major that Bainbridge had told them he didn't want to take his case too. Not surprisingly, Sherlock and Lexi were nowhere to be found.

"Can I ask what this is in connection with?" Reed asked John after the army doctor got done with explaining that he was here to see Bainbridge.

"Private Bainbridge contacted us about a personal matter, sir," John told him keeping his answer simple and making sure that he left out anything that had to do with why Bainbridge asked them for help in the first place. Bainbridge made it clear that he didn't want his major to know about the issue and John agreed with his reasoning.

"Nothing's personal when it concerns my troops. What do you really want?" Major Reed asked him, not letting the subject drop and John sighed a bit.

"I'm here on a legitimate enquiry," John assured him, hoping that would convince Reed to let him see Bainbridge.

"Press? Digging for some bloody Royal story or something?" Reed asked him and John frowned a bit. He was used to this though. God knows you got used to people not being exactly happy to let you into places when you worked with Sherlock and Lexi.

"No, sir, I'm Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," John told the Major as he pointed at his ID.

"Retired. You could be a used car salesman now, for all I know," Reed told him and John snorted slightly in irritation. Well, the doctor of two consulting detectives was a lot better than a used car salesman.

**Third Person POV**

The duty sergeant walked into the shower room. One of the showers was running and steam billowed across the floor.

"Bainbridge! Gentleman here to see you!" The duty sergeant called as he walked across the room towards the cubicle. "Bainbridge!" The duty sergeant called when he got no reply and he rapped on the closed door of the cubicle, then looked down. Through the almost-opaque door, Bainbridge could be seen slumped on the floor with his back against the door, and blood-stained water was pouring out of the cubicle.

**John's POV**

Major Reed looked closely at John, studying him and John stared back at him passively, having learnt from Lexi to keep a straight face when being questioned by anyone about a case or a client.

"I know you, don't I?" Reed asked him as he leaned in slightly and John hummed questioningly, not giving a definitive answer like Lexi had also taught him to do. Reed tossed John's card across the table and John picked it up and put it back into his wallet. "I've seen you in the papers," Reed said and John cleared his throat uncomfortably. As anyone could imagine, the press had gotten rather interested in their cases again, especially now that Sherlock and Lexi had faked their deaths and come back to life. They were internet sensations all over again. "Hang around with those detectives – the ones with the silly hats. What the hell does Bainbridge want with detectives?" Reed asked him and John pursed his lips slightly as he figured out that Reed was not so much a fan of Lexi and Sherlock. Of course, that was understandable with what Bainbridge had told them about the men all being warned about Lexi. The two detectives had both a good and bad reputation these days.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," John answered him, smirking to himself slightly as he thought about the sort of comment Lexi would have made. He was also vaguely reminded of Baskerville when Dr. Stapleton told them that she was not at liberty to say what she actually did.

"You're not at liberty to say?!" Reed asked him in exasperation and John nodded his head slightly. "He's a soldier in my regiment – I'll be damned if he's going to get up to cloak and dagger nonsense like this," Reed ranted as the duty sergeant suddenly hurried into the room.

"Sir ...," The duty sergeant started before he stopped when he realized that Reed wasn't alone in the room. "Sir," He said again, more seriously.

"What's going on?" Reed asked him in irritation.

"It's Bainbridge, sir. He's dead," The duty sergeant said and looking horrified, Reed got up and followed the sergeant out of the room, John hurrying after them.

In the shower room, Bainbridge was now lying face down on the floor on top of a great deal of broken glass. There was a lot of blood on his lower back. The duty sergeant led the others in, and Reed hurried over to the body staring at it in shock.

"My God!" Reed exclaimed and sighing deeply at the sight, John walked towards Bainbridge but Reed held up a hand to stop him.

"Ah, no, let me take a look, sir. I'm a doctor," John told him, hoping that by some chance he might be able to save Bainbridge. They worked so many murder cases that the ones where they had live clients were a bit of a relief.

"What? Sergeant, arrest this man," Reed ordered and the duty sergeant instantly took hold of John's left arm and twisted it behind his back.

"What? No-no! I'm a – I'm a doctor," John protested urgently.

"Oh, you're a doctor now, too. Sergeant...," Reed said and he jerked his head towards the door.

"Let me examine him, please!" John shouted as the sergeant started to pull him away but just then two other sergeants came in, bundling Sherlock and Lexi into the room. They had their right arms twisted up behind their backs and Lexi did not look happy.

"Sir, caught these two snooping around," One of the sergeants told the major and Lexi looked at John and waved at him with her free hand before the sergeant holding her twisted that arm behind her back to join the other. The Irish girl snorted and rolled her eyes but stood there compliantly.

"Not really snooping around. More like actively investigating. Did you know that your security is more shit than Buckingham Palace? If these are the people who guard the Queen we need a serious change in either the soldiers or people commanding them," Lexi said and Reed shot her a livid look before he looked over at John.

"Is that what this was all about? Distracting me so that this man and woman could get in here and kill Bainbridge?" Reed asked him and Lexi laughed in disbelief as she looked Reed up and down with an unimpressed look.

"Don't be ...," John said and Lexi made a groaning noise which drew everyone's attention.

"Seriously, who do they put in charge these days. Are you actually paid to come up with these asinine theories?" Lexi asked Reed before she looked across to Sherlock. He nodded at her and in a swift movement, Lexi turned and managed to get her arm up an over her head, surprising the sergeant holding her before she broke his hold on her. While this was happening, Sherlock pulled free of the sergeant holding him and Lexi walked forward with him to look more closely at the body. The sergeants followed them, taking hold of their arms and pulling them away again. "Are we really going to do this?" Lexi asked the sergeant holding her who looked just a slight bit scared.

"Kill him with what? Where's the weapon?" Sherlock asked Reed in exasperation, answering the questions that the major had posed to John.

"What?" Reed asked Sherlock in confusion and Lexi snorted as if this proved her point about the sort of people that were paid to be in charge. Sherlock and Lexi shared a look and then they both smirked as if they were sharing some sort of inside joke.

"Where's the weapon? Go on, search us," Sherlock said before he and Lexi held their arms up wide, breaking free of the sergeants who really didn't want to be holding them as soon as Lexi shot them each a look. "No weapons."

"Bainbridge was on parade. He came off duty five minutes ago. When's this supposed to have happened?" John asked Reed in exasperation, not sure where Reed was getting his ideas from.

"You two obviously stabbed him before he got into the shower," Reed told the two detectives as he looked over at them and Lexi shook her head at him.

"Wrong!" She said and John snorted at that as Sherlock simultaneously answered with a "No" before smirking at Lexi.

"No?!" Reed asked the two of them and Lexi nodded slightly as she frowned.

"Yes, no. Did you not hear us just now? You might want to get that checked," Lexi told Reed and John sighed slightly and closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. Of all the times that Lexi could chose to be sarcastic she chose now when the major was already angry. That was Lexi though.

"He's soaking wet and there's still shampoo in his hair. He got into the shower and then someone stabbed him," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed slightly and Sherlock looked over at her, sharing a look with her before raising his eyebrow slightly.

"Obviously," Lexi said as she and Sherlock broke their eye contact and Sherlock smirked slightly at her use of his favourite line.

"The cubicle was locked from the inside, sir. I had to break it open," The duty sergeant told Reed honestly and Lexi gestured to the glass on the floor around Bainbridge which was proof of this.

"You two must have climbed over the top," Reed said and Lexi looked away from him as if it physically pained her to look at him.

"Well then we'd be soaking wet too, wouldn't we?" Sherlock snapped at Reed before he looked over at Lexi who huffed.

"Dear God. What is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring. Is it nice not being us?" Lexi asked Reed with a straight face and Sherlock bit his lip to hold back in a grin as did John at her recitation of one of Sherlock's lines at their first crime scene. Lexi shook her head, still looking serious and irritated with the major but there was a spark of amusement in her eyes that couldn't be missed.

"Major, please," John said loudly. "I'm John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Three years in Afghanistan, a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart's bloody Hospital," John said firmly before he pointed at Lexi. "This is Alexandria MacKenna, she obtained four doctorates by nineteen, spent two years traveling around the world taking down criminals, and she is a bloody fantastic doctor who's saved more lives than you'll ever know," John said and Lexi's eyes widened in surprise as he praised her work. "Let us examine this body," John told Reed firmly and he looked down at the body for a long moment before he looked at Lexi closely. They sergeants were all staring at her before Reed finally looked at the duty sergeant and nodded sharply. The man released John who started taking off his jacket. "Thank you," John said as Lexi slipped her coat and scarf off and took her glasses out of her coat before she walked forward to join him. The both of them put their jackets onto a bench and then went to crouch down beside Bainbridge while the duty sergeant talked quietly to Sherlock.

"Suicide?" The duty sergeant asked him and Lexi looked back at him and frowned thoughtfully as she tilted her head to the side.

"No. The weapon again – no knife," Sherlock told the duty sergeant before he looked over at Lexi and nodded to her, knowing that she had formulated some theory.

"It looks like suicide so consider the other possibilities first. Someone wanted this to look like suicide. Why? Possibly to cover up a murder. Most likely how it was done. So once we eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," Lexi told the duty sergeant who nodded slowly at her as Sherlock walked to the front of the shower cubicle and bent down to look all around it before he squatted down at Bainbridge's head next to Lexi. John was examining Bainbridge's lower back while Lexi closed her eyes, muttering under her breath before she looked him over, Sherlock watching her with interest.

"Hmm. There is a wound to the abdomen – incredibly fine," John said, getting Lexi's attention and pointing it out to her. She hummed before slipping her glasses on, pushing them up the bridge of her nose.

"I agree. The position of the wound would have caused internal bleeding, haemorrhaging, and then death as we unfortunately see," Lexi said as she bent down to get a closer look at the wound and then frowned. "John, this wasn't caused by a normal weapon," Lexi told John as she looked at the diameter of the wound. The army doctor hummed in agreement as Lexi shook her head.

"Man stabbed to death. No murder weapon. Door locked from the inside. Only one way in or out of here," Sherlock said as Lexi nodded and looked over Bainbridge's body.

"In all fairness, very interesting and also some level of intelligence went into planning this. The timing had to be perfect. He wasn't stabbed here though. And the cameras would have been probably been wiped , clever clogs," Lexi told Sherlock and he quirked his eyebrow at her as John moved to Bainbridge's head and peeled open one of his eyes.

"Sherlock, Lexi," John said and Sherlock hummed as Lexi looked up at him and raised her eyebrow questioningly. "He's still breathing," John told them and Lexi looked up startled and instantly moved into action.

"Oh my God," The duty sergeant said and Lexi looked back at him with a despairing look.

"And you didn't check to see if he was still breathing!?" Lexi shouted at the duty sergeant. "What sort of idiot are you?!" She asked him as she lifted him up so that his stomach as higher than his heart.

"What do we do?" Sherlock asked John frantically.

"Rule one, keep calm and don't blink," Lexi directed Sherlock who bobbed his head quickly.

"Give me your scarf," John demanded as he gestured to Sherlock. "Lexi's lost enough of them already and she didn't give you yours," John told Sherlock as Lexi checked Bainbridge's pulse. John was proud of how she immediately took action. Lexi worked well in high pressure situations when she had to make split second decisions.

"What?" Sherlock asked John in confusion as Lexi leaned down and listened to Bainbridge's breathing, timing it on her watch.

"Quickly, now," John ordered him, knowing that he needed direct orders to get moving. While Sherlock unwrapped his scarf from his neck, John looked up at Reed and the others. "Call an ambulance," John ordered them.

"What?" The duty sergeant asked in confusion as they all just stood round and stared at them as they tried to save Bainbridge's life.

"Call an ambulance now," John shouted loudly as Lexi shouted simultaneously, "Call a bloody ambulance!" John pointed towards the door and still the men hesitated. "Do it!" John shouted firmly again.

"So help me, don't make me get the British Security Service on the line!" Lexi said through gritted teeth and the three sergeants turned and hurried from the room. John pressed the scarf against the wound in Bainbridge's back and now he took Sherlock's hand and put it on top of the scarf, positioning his fingers where he wanted them.

"Nurse, press here – hard," John ordered Sherlock as he directed Lexi to keep a sign on his vitals.

""Nurse"? Why isn't Lexi the nurse?" Sherlock asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Lexi is the only other doctor here. I'm making do so you are the nurse. Keep pressure on that wound," John ordered and Sherlock leaned closer so that he could press harder. John moved to Bainbridge's head as Lexi frowned suddenly. "Stephen. Stephen, stay with me," John told Bainbridge as Lexi suddenly scrambled and started chest compressions.

"He's coding we need to turn him over," Lexi told John and the army doctor moved and did as she said before making sure his air ways were clear. John blocked his nose and started CPR as she counted the number of compressions. "Sherlock keep pressure on his wound up front here, I think that was the actual entrance point and try to raise his wound above his heart. Major, got any Tasers on base?" Lexi asked, looking up at the major who nodded at her in shock. "Good, go get one," Lexi ordered and the major hurried out of the room. "John, take over for me can you?" Lexi asked him and John nodded, taking over the CPR as Lexi hurried over to her coat and took out her tool kit. The major skidded back into the room and gave her the Taser. "Hope you aren't attached to it," Lexi said before she took out her tools and quickly started demolishing the Taser.

"What are you doing?" John asked her as he continued the CPR and she fiddled with some of the controls and rewiring.

"Making do with what we have," Lexi said as she came and landed heavily on her knees, grunting in pain. She took the Taser and turned it on, John realizing that she had made a rudimentary defibrillator in a few short seconds. "Both of you move your hands," Lexi ordered before she put the Taser prods over Bainbridge's heart. "Charging and clear!" Lexi said and Bainbridge's body jolted. John checked his vitals and shook his head. "Charging again," Lexi said, repositioning before nodding. "And clear," Lexi told them again and Bainbridge's body jolted once again and John checked his pulse again before looking up at Lexi.

"Still nothing," He told her and she swore under her breath in what sounded like Russian, German, and several other languages.

"I've got enough for one more charge," Lexi told them and she took in a deep breath looking a bit nervous.

"Xia," Sherlock said and John looked at him in confusion before she nodded and shrugged.

"Well boys..," Lexi said, letting out a deep breath before she twisted the dial up to the maximum. "Charging and clear!" Lexi shouted and Bainbridge's body jolted before John grinned with a happy noise.

"He has a pulse," John told Lexi and her shoulders slumped as she sighed in relief. They only had to wait a few more minutes before the emergency crews arrived and loaded him into a stretcher. Lexi sighed before draping her arms across Sherlock and John's shoulders the three of them wearing water logged pants, looking a little bit dishevelled, and with blood on their hands.

"All in a day's work," Lexi said before she kissed both of the boys on the cheek. "Come on boys. Angelo's first and then back to the flat," Lexi told them and John smiled at how she was making it just like any other case. Things would definitely stay the same, Lexi would make sure of that.

**The Present: Reception**

**Third Person POV**

"Private Bainbridge had just come off guard duty. He'd stood there for hours, plenty of people watching, nothing apparently wrong," Sherlock told all of the guests as Lexi looked up at him with a fond smile on her face. "He came off duty and within minutes was nearly dead from a wound in his stomach, but there was no weapon. Where did it go? Lexi told us that it was a delayed stabbing and she was right which isn't surprising. How, she still doesn't know. Get back to her later," Sherlock said and Lexi chuckled at how he had used her typical line. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to consider this, a murderer who can walk through walls, a weapon that can vanish – but in all of this there is only one element which can be said to be truly remarkable. Would anyone like to make a guess?" Sherlock asked the guests who fidgeted and looked at each other. "Come on, come on, there is actually an element of Q and A to all of this," Sherlock said and he cleared his throat, still the guests remained silent. "Scotland Yard," Sherlock called out and Lestrade lifted his head. "Have you got a theory?" Sherlock asked the D.I. and Lestrade started at him blankly.

"Yes you Greg we're actually looking at you," Lexi spoke up and Sherlock shot her a thankful look for her help.

"You're a detective – broadly speaking. Got a theory?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as Lexi leaned closely toward him with a smile on her face.

"Er, um, if the, uh, if the, if-if-if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um ...," Lestrade stuttered before he stopped to think for a moment. "...grating in the air vent ... maybe a-a ballista or a – or a – or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could-could crawl in there," Lestrade continued and he sucked in a breath. "So, yeah, we're loo... we're looking for a-a-a-a dwarf," Lestrade finished and Sherlock and Lexi stared back at him blankly, Lexi blinking slowly.

"Brilliant," Sherlock said and Lestrade perked up, looking at him in confusion.

"Really?" Lestrade asked Sherlock in disbelief.

"No," Sherlock instantly answered him and Lestrade sighed and lowered his hands.

"Sorry," Lexi apologized as Lestrade looked up at her. "Really though, a dwarf?" Lexi asked him raising her eyebrows as she bit her lip. "I'm slightly scared for the citizens of London right now, not going to lie," Lexi told him and Lestrade shook his head at her.

"Next!" Sherlock shouted as he and Lexi looked over the guests.

"He stabbed himself," Tom whispered to Molly and Lexi and Sherlock turned towards him.

"Hello? Who was that?" Sherlock asked and Tom looked round, wide-eyed. "Tom," Sherlock said and Tom grimaced as he slowly stood up. "Got a theory?" Sherlock asked him and Tom swayed nervously from foot to foot for a moment.

"Um ... attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone; broke after piercing his abdomen ... like a meat ... dagger," Tom said slowly, tentatively and Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. A couple of the guests sniggered at his theory. Sitting beside Tom, Molly's face was a picture of disbelief. At the top table, Sherlock and Lexi's expressions also spoke volumes.

"A meat dagger," Sherlock clarified speaking precisely and Lexi hummed slightly.

"Yes," Tom said awkwardly.

"Sit. Down," Molly whispered through gritted teeth.

"No," Sherlock told Tom, speaking precisely and Tom sat down again.

""Interesting theory though, but it wasn't suicide. They're easier ways to go about that. Eddie VanCoon," Lexi said and John hummed as some of the guests got the reference from John's blog about the Blind Banker case. "Not exactly what we're getting at though," Lexi told the guests as Sherlock kissed her on the head before he turned back to the guests.

"There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual," Sherlock told the guests and Lexi nodded as Sherlock looked to her for her to continue for him.

"It wasn't the case or the vanished weapon or even the would be murder. It was exactly what we always expect on cases and something I've come to take comfort in," Lexi told the guests with a smile. "Only one feature of this case really stood out to us."

"John Watson – who, while we were trying to solve the murder instead saved a life. Well, Lexi helped too because she was the only other doctor there as John reminded me…," Sherlock said and Mary quietly laughed in delight as John smiled. "There are mysteries worth solving and stories worth telling," Sherlock said and he and Lexi looked down at John. "The best and bravest man we know – and on top of that he actually knows how to do stuff," Sherlock said and Lexi giggled as John lowered his head and chuckled with embarrassment. "...except wedding planning and serviettes – he's rubbish at those," Sherlock amended.

"True!" John said and the guests all laughed. "But you forgot one thing," John told Sherlock and Lexi and the two consulting detective frowned as John stood up from his seat again.

"Sherlock and Lexi," John said as he gestured at the two of them. "From the beginning Sherlock and Lexi have always been a bit of an overbearing force when working together. The two of them are so in sync with each other that they can practically read each other's minds and know what the other is thinking without even having to speak," John said and some of the guests who knew them chuckled. "But they left one thing out. While I was saving a life, Sherlock was solving the murder. It's one of the most amazing things you could ever have the fortune of seeing," John said and Sherlock mouth fell open slightly. "I know it's hard to understand what they do, but if you could see it you would be utterly impressed," John said and people like Lestrade and Molly nodded in agreement. "And while I was saving a life, Lexi was doing both, solving the murder and saving the life. In reality, she saved Bainbridge's life," John said and Lexi shook her head.

"John, I didn't…" Lexi said before John held up his hand and interrupted her.

"You rigged up a defibrillator from a Taser," John said and Lexi shook her head at him as the guests eyed her appreciatively and Lestrade looked at her proudly. "You've saved Sherlock and I more times than I have. You've even thrown your shoes at Chinese warriors to save our lives. Sherlock Holmes can solve the case, I can save your life, and Lexi can both solve the case and save your life at the same time," John said before he sat down again, having said his peace. The guests nodded or made appreciative sounds as they eyed the two detectives who paused as they collected themselves before Sherlock cleared his throat and continued.

"The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder – or attempted murder – we've ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which we are aware and it is one of Lexi's favourite of our most recent cases. However, we're not just here to praise John – we're also here to embarrass him, so let's move on to some...," Sherlock said before Lestrade interrupted him.

"No-no, wait, so how was it ... how was it done?" Lestrade asked the two detectives in confusion.

"How was what done?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as Lexi raised her eyebrow.

"Hmm, some elaboration would be nice on that question," Lexi added and Lestrade eyed the two of them in disbelief.

"The stabbing," Lestrade said and Sherlock looked down awkwardly for a few moments and Lexi grimaced and wrinkled her nose before Sherlock raised his head and Lexi changed her expression to a slight frown.

"I'm afraid we don't know. We didn't solve that one. That's ...," Sherlock said and he paused. "...It can happen sometimes. It's very ... very disappointing," Sherlock said with a pout and Lexi laughed before she reached up on tiptoe and kissed his pout away.

"Like I told you, check back with me later," Lexi told him and Lestrade frowned at her.

"You have a theory?" Lestrade asked her and Lexi nodded as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Of course I do. I always have a theory. Technically I have three, but I am currently narrowing it down as we speak," Lexi said and some of the guests gave her an odd look. "Yes I know, my wedding day should be a day off but we can't just turn it off," Lexi said as she gestured to her head. "We've had a very long discussion about this with John," Lexi said and then she gestured back to Sherlock who looked reflective for a long second as he shared a look with Lexi before he took a deep breath and looked out at the guests again.

"Anyway…," Sherlock said and Lexi smirked slightly as he changed the subject. "Embarrassment leads us on to the stag night. Of course there's hours of material here, but we've cut it down to the really good bits," Sherlock said and Lexi threw back her head and laughed and Sherlock smiled and how happy she was. John was right, this certainly was the most important day of his life.


	95. Stag Night

**Hello sweeties! And now we have John's and technically Sherlock's stag night. Not that he knows it. Enjoy, Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Three- Stag Night<strong>

**John's POV**

**3 days ago…**

John was sitting in the living room of 221B, having come over to keep Sherlock and Lexi busy while Mary and Joanna took off to Bristol to take care of a few last minute hiccups in the wedding plans. He also wanted to broach the subject of his and technically Sherlock's stag night. He knew that Sherlock was planning something with Lexi's help of course, but John didn't want to exclude Lexi form it. Lexi was as much of his best mate as Sherlock was and he wasn't going to exclude her from his stag night after she had helped plan it just because she was a girl. John looked over at Lexi who had her glasses on and who was reading some files that she had sent over to her from her friends at the BAU. Sherlock was sitting beside her on the couch, his feet in her lap as he played some online poker. The two of them looked cosy and John knew that they were doing the right thing by planning a double wedding. Since they finished the wedding plans they had relaxed a lot more. Lexi was rubbing the top of Sherlock's foot and every so often he flicked his gaze up to her, his expression fond. John took a deep breath before he decided to just go for it. This wasn't the most difficult conversation he ever had to have with them after all.

"So…um Sherlock, Lexi," John said to get their attention and they both looked up, Lexi closing her files as Sherlock closed his laptop and took Lexi's files before he put both down the coffee table. "I was thinking over the stag night and I think you should come with us Lexi," John said, just getting it out there and Lexi tilted her head to the side and frowned thoughtfully as Sherlock studied him with a passive expression.

"You do know that a stag night is just for blokes right?" Lexi asked him slowly and John snorted and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Yeah, it's just, Mary decided she doesn't want to have her hen party and just spend the night in and I want you to come with us," John said and Lexi nodded slowly. "It's been the three of us from the beginning and this is important for me. I want you to be there, you're as much as my best mate as Sherlock is," John told her and Sherlock looked at him gratefully. Sherlock had been a bit worried about leaving Lexi at home not only because he didn't like to leave her, but also because he was used to it being the three of them when they went out.

"Well, how can I say no to that?" Lexi asked him and the three of them grinned as Sherlock chuckled slightly. "Just so long as you don't complain when I drink the both of you under the table," Lexi told him and John shook his head at her, snorting slightly.

"I really doubt that," John told her, wondering how Lexi could out drink two men. Sure Sherlock really didn't drink, but John had gone out to plenty of pubs in his life.

"I wouldn't," Sherlock said as he swung his legs off the couch and stood up. "We've been experimenting on her alcohol tolerance levels which are surprisingly high," Sherlock said as he walked over towards the window and picked up his violin.

"The Irish sort of evolved to be used to drinking so much. Then again we had to since our ancestors are known for their ability to drink copious amounts of mead and ale. I process it better than you do," Lexi told John who pointed to her in exasperation.

"You had a hang over that time you came home. Mycroft had to carry you up the stairs," John pointed out, instantly regretting it as Sherlock and Lexi both flinched at the memory of how she had gotten really drunk after everything happened on Christmas with Irene.

"John, you don't want to know how much liquor it took to get to that point. I spent three hours or more drinking that night. It was over a full bottle of whiskey and a lot of shots," Lexi told him and John looked at her wide eyed.

"Not possible," John said and she just shrugged at him.

"Believe what you will. We'll find out tomorrow night," Lexi told him before she got up and walked into the kitchen. "Who's up for fancy French pancakes?" Lexi asked as she popped her head back into the living room and Sherlock hummed as John nodded at her. She grinned before going off to cook as Sherlock started playing a lively tune, filling the flat still drenched in early morning light with music.

**Sherlock's POV**

Once John had left their flat after breakfast, Sherlock had gotten ready and gone to see Molly at Bart's. Lexi had opted to stay at the flat because she had to have a conference call with some of her friends at the BAU. She had been contacting her old friends to see if they had any insight on the case of the Bloody Guardsman. Sherlock had moved past his jealousy over Reid and realized that they were just friends. Besides, a part of him had to be smug over the fact that Lexi had chosen him and was his fiancée. So far the BAU had some theories and Lexi was also contacting some of her old contacts in Dublin. The case had been interesting and was still unsolved and Lexi had a feeling that it wasn't over yet. She believed that this had been a practice run and Sherlock had come to learn that she was always right. So, Sherlock left her to it, feeling slightly more comfortable with leaving her for short periods of time, as he went to see Molly. He wanted to have her calculate their ideal alcohol intake as getting completely drunk was not his and Lexi's intentions. They still had to give John back to Mary at some point.

"Murder scenes?" Molly asked him after Sherlock got done explaining his plan for the stag night to her and she turned and looked at him as he was standing beside her. "Locations of ... murders?" Molly clarified and Sherlock nodded at her in agreement.

"Mmmm, pub crawl – themed," Sherlock told Molly, think that his and Lexi's idea was ingenious. "Lexi approved of the idea. She was quite excited about it actually," Sherlock added as he remembered how Lexi had been quite excited about it as she set about mapping all of their crime scenes on a map and finding pubs by them.

"Yeah, she would be, but why-why can't you just do Underground stations?" Molly asked Sherlock and Sherlock wrinkled his nose in distaste. Underground stations weren't personal and yes, Lexi would like it. She generally was excited by anything that had to do with their work.

"Lacks the personal touch. We're going to go for a drink in every street where we…," Sherlock said before Molly joined in and finished the sentence for him.

"...every street where you found a corpse! Delightful! Where do I come in?" Molly asked him in confusion and Sherlock breathed out slightly.

"Don't want to get ill. That would ruin it – spoil the mood," Sherlock said, it having been Lexi's idea to begin with. Lexi pointed out that if they got ill it would kind of ruin the night. They wanted to have a good time, go out drinking as mates. She had been instructing Sherlock on normal behaviour when out drinking too as that was something Sherlock had been worried about. He didn't go out to pubs. He did drink a bit when he was in Uni, but drugs had typically been his addiction. Alcohol slowed down his mind so he often stayed away from it.

"You're a graduate chemist and so is Lexi. Can't you just work it out?" Molly asked him and Sherlock shook his head slightly.

"I lack the practical experience and since Lexi is coming with us at John's insistence I can't have her calculating it as she would probably calculate too highly for us given her tolerance," Sherlock told Molly, smiling at her. Molly looked at him straight- faced and when she spoke again her voice dropped half an octave.

"Meaning you think I like a drink," Molly said, picking up on that.

"Occasionally," Sherlock told her, knowing that Molly enjoyed the occasional glass of wine and would drink with Lexi on girl's nights before.

"That I'm a drunk," Molly said and Sherlock's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"No. No!" Sherlock told her quickly, having not meant that at all. Molly sternly held his gaze and Sherlock looked away from her, blinking for a couple of seconds, before he finally found something else to stay. "You look ... well," Sherlock told her, making small talk which he was getting better at doing.

"I am," Molly told him, smiling slightly.

"How's ...," Sherlock said, looking to the side as he searched his brain for the name before he finally found one with his mental version of Lexi's help. "...Tom?" Sherlock finished his question tentatively, not completely sure that this was right.

"Not a sociopath," Molly answered him and Sherlock felt relieved that he had gotten it right. Lexi would be proud of him.

"Still? Good," Sherlock told her nodding slightly as he wasn't sure how to comment on that.

"And we're having quite a lot of sex," Molly said smiling at him brightly. "Which I'm sure Lexi and you are doing too," Molly added and Sherlock offlined momentarily, his eyes flickering between her and mid-air before he could move on. Sure Lexi and him had been far more intimate since they returned, but it was something that just happened. They didn't actually talk about it.

"Okay," Sherlock said slowly and he took a large folder full of papers from his coat and put it on the table. "I want you to calculate John's ideal intake, Lexi's, and mine, to remain in the sweet spot the whole evening. You'll have to calculate slightly higher for Lexi than you will for John and myself given her tolerance. Preferably she should not become an Irish stereotype," Sherlock said opening the folder which was full of his, John's, and Lexi's medical records and personal documents which included copies of their birth certificates. "Light-headed, good ...," Sherlock said as he handed her a picture of a Vitruvian Man with a photograph of John's head posted over the original head.

"Urinating in wardrobes, bad," Molly finished for him and Sherlock hummed in agreement.

**Third Person POV**

The next night Sherlock and John were joined by Lexi who was dressed in a black dress with long sleeves and a low neckline which came down to just above her knees. She left her hair down and threw on a pair of heels and some makeup and she had joined them downstairs as they waited for her so that they could head out. John and Sherlock both looked at her in surprise as she came downstairs with her coat and scarf over her arm.

"Ready for a pub crawl boys?" Lexi asked them, her Irish accent coming out thick already and Sherlock chuckled before he helped her into her coat and scarf after pressing a quick kiss to her lips. They set out from Baker Street on foot and John asked where they were going but neither Sherlock nor Lexi would tell him. They arrived at the first pub and left John at a table as they walked up to the bar, Sherlock looking at the barman who came over to them.

"Two, er ... beers, please," Sherlock said, grimacing slightly as he wasn't sure if he wanted to be drinking.

"And a Guinness," Lexi added, ordering herself something with a bit more of a kick and Sherlock gave her a reproving look which she shrugged at.

"Pints?" The barman asked them and Sherlock took two tall and slender glass graduated cylinders from his coat pockets and put them onto the bar as Lexi took a larger graduated cylinder from her own coat pocket.

"Four hundred and forty-three point seven millilitres in these and six hundred and seventy- four point eight millilitres for her," Sherlock told the barman who eyed them both oddly before he took the graduated cylinders from them and filled them. Lexi passed him Mycroft's credit card which she had nicked and the barman handed that back to her along with their drinks. Sherlock took his and John's cylinders, now almost full of beer, over to the nearby bench where John was standing and put them onto the table as Lexi followed beside him looking quite happy.

"Ah...," John said, looking at the graduate cylinders in disbelief, also looking at Lexi's larger one as he shook his head. The army doctor sighed heavily while Sherlock took out his phone, selected an app, and put it down onto the bench, the phone's stopwatch starting up. "What, are we on a schedule?" John asked the two detectives as he picked up his cylinder.

"You'll thank us," Sherlock promised John and he smiled as he and Lexi clinked their cylinders together before they drank.

In the next pub which Lexi led them to after glancing at her map app on her mobile they sat at a table near the bar and they clinked their cylinders together again before they drank their second drink down. Lexi's Irish accent was coming out brilliantly and so far none of them were showing any signs of being light headed yet.

In the next pub Sherlock stood at the bar with Lexi and drained his cylinder before he grinned widely, delicately wiping his lips. His brain felt like it was buzzing and he was starting to feel the alcohol. John looked down into his own cylinder with a disappointed expression as Lexi giggled brightly as Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist and planted a few sloppy kisses over her cheeks and then her lips. John grinned at his best mates before he pulled his mobile out and snapped a picture, sending it to Mary who instead of having a hen party was relaxing with Joanna, the both of them finishing off the last minute details. John had succeeded in getting them both out of the flat for the night to keep them busy and not figuring out anything.

At the next pub, John took a long pull on his drink, while Sherlock looked thoughtfully at the level of beer remaining in his own cylinder. Lexi was grinning widely as she drank down her own cylinder, so far, unlike John and Sherlock, not showing any signs of being light headed just yet. The three of them turned and looked down at Sherlock's phone on the bar, then John put his cylinder down and Sherlock bent to look at the level.

By the time they got to their next pub, Lexi finally was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and John giggled at her as she grinned started to act just a bit silly. She went off to the loo while Sherlock and John got their drinks, thanking Mycroft for unknowingly paying for the evening. When Lexi stumbled back from the loo she ran into the last person she would expect at one of the tables in the back, Anderson.

"Anderson?" She asked as she walked over to his table, just a bit tipsy and he looked up at her in surprise, not having thought he would see anyone he knew there.

"Um hi?" Anderson said more like a question, never having seen Lexi like this before. She almost seemed normal for once. "What are you doing here?" Anderson asked her and she nodded her head back towards the bar and Anderson looked over to see John and Sherlock there. He was even more surprised to find Sherlock Holmes in a pub.

"John's stag night. Bit of a pub crawl," Lexi told him and Anderson nodded slowly.

"Oh well, tell him congratulation's for me," Anderson told her awkwardly and she nodded.

"I will, nice seeing you," Lexi told him and Anderson hummed slightly.

"Yeah," Anderson told her before she turned on her heel and walked back to the bar, taking her cylinder from Sherlock. The three of them clinked their cylinders together again and Sherlock wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her head.

"Cheers," John said and Lexi grinned brightly.

"Cheers," Sherlock and her said in unison before they started drinking. Sherlock moved his arm from around Lexi's waist and updated their alcohol levels in his mobile which was in his free hand before Lexi kissed him her mouth tasting of Guinness.

At the next pub the boys and Lexi sat at a table together and drained their latest beers before grimacing and putting their cylinders down onto the table. Lexi was still draining hers and she finished, laughing at their faces before she put her cylinder down next to Sherlock's. This bar had loud music playing and Lexi nodded her head to the beat, bouncing her foot up and down. John turned and looks all-round the room and Sherlock pointed over John's shoulder.

"Over there," Sherlock told him and John leaned closer to him, unable to hear him over the loud music.

"What?" John shouted and Lexi shook her head at him giggling.

"Toilets. Any second now, you're going to ...," Sherlock said loudly and John interrupted him, putting a hand onto his arm.

"Hang on. Tell me after – I need the loo," John told him as he got up and Sherlock hummed.

"Mmm, on schedule," Sherlock told Lexi and she nodded at him in agreement.

"Eh?" John asked, turning back to them and Lexi waved him off.

"Nothing – go!" Sherlock told him and John stumbled off while Sherlock looked at his phone and pulled up his charts which would measure urine output against blood alcohol level. He updated the alcohol level chart and finished it with a fancy flourish. "Your app works beautifully," Sherlock told Lexi as he nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

"Hmm, thought it would work well," Lexi hummed before she lifted Sherlock's head and brought he face close to his before she crashed her lips onto his. Sherlock hummed pleasantly in his chest as his tongue tangled with Lexi's and he carded his fingers through her hair as she played with the curls at the base of his neck. They broke apart, breathing heavily and Sherlock pressed his forehead to Lexi's as she laughed lightly, Sherlock chuckling with her before he captured her lips with his own again. They only broke apart just before John returned to the table which John would have been thankful for.

"How long?" Sherlock asked John as he nuzzled his face next to Lexi's.

"Sorry?" John asked him in confusion which was partially because if the alcohol.

"Your visit," Sherlock clarified as John sat down and gave him a quizzical look. Sherlock looked down at his chart as he straightened up in his seat. "Estimate approximate volume discharged ...," Sherlock said before John cut him off.

"Stop talking now," John told him and Lexi giggled before shaking hr head at her boys.

At the next bar, John and Lexi stood at the bar together as Sherlock waited for them a little ways away. They both took full shots of whiskey from the barman, Lexi looking happy as they snuck shots.

"Ooh, er ...," John said and he glance over his and Lexi's shoulders to where Sherlock was standing with his back to them. "Quick, one more. He mustn't see," John told the bartender and Lexi giggled brightly.

"Two more for me," Lexi told him and she and John drank their shots down in one gulp, John humming appreciatively. Lexi managed to drink her three down in the time it took John to drink one and she appreciatively took her other two shots that the bar man had brought her along with John's. John poured his shot of whiskey into the cylinder on the left in the bar in front of him as Lexi just shrugged and downed the both of hers in one gulp. John took his and Sherlock's cylinders across towards Sherlock as Lexi followed tipsily behind him with her own in her hand. John stopped and looked at the cylinders suddenly, unable to remember which one he put the shot in. He sniffed the left one and assumed that that was the one the contained only beer and put it onto the table in front of Sherlock.

"There you go," John told Sherlock who turned around and picked it up, his cheeks slightly flushed. Sherlock was feeling the effects of the alcohol a lot more than John was right now and Lexi was already buzzed and getting drunker by the second. "Cheers," John said and Lexi saluted them with her cylinder before the three of them drank their glasses down.

By the time they got to the next pub, Sherlock was completely plastered. Apparently, and Lexi pointed this out to John, he had given the wrong cylinder to Sherlock. Sherlock, only used to the occasional glass of wine was already drunk enough from the beer but a shot of whiskey added to his drink had tipped him over the edge. They started off by drinking their next almost pint and then John had to watch as Sherlock and Lexi did a bit of dirty dancing on the dance floor. He had nearly gagged, but he ended up filming it and sending it to Mary, Mycroft, and Lestrade. They then relocated to the smoking area outside the pub were Sherlock started loudly and drunkenly gesticulating and sounding off to a male customer over the very loud music.

"I know ash!" Sherlock shouted and John who was sitting at a nearby table, a bit legless himself covered his face with his hand. Lexi giggled as she got up and walked over to him having shed her coat and scarf at some point.

"Love," Lexi said as she walked over to Sherlock and he ignored her as he continued to shout at the man.

"Don't – Tell – Me – I – Don't!" Sherlock said and on each word he poked the man in the upper chest with one finger, and on the last word he put his hand on the man's shoulder and pushed him. Sighing, John looked up as the man swung a punch at Sherlock's face. Sherlock swayed back, more by luck than judgement, and avoided it.

"Oh ...," John said, jumping out of his seat as Lexi watched the display cautiously. Thrown off-balance by his swing, the man stumbled forward and almost fell onto a nearby table. One of his mates helped him up as John grabbed Sherlock from behind and pulled him away while Sherlock flailed wildly towards the man.

"All right, all right, enough!" John shouted a bit more soberly as he dragged Sherlock a few feet away, supporting most of his weight as Lexi followed them and put herself into Sherlock's view. "Stand up," John ordered Sherlock as he propped him onto his feet and pointed him towards the exit. Sherlock turned and pointed back towards the man over Lexi's shoulder.

"Ashtrays. I know ashtrays," Sherlock shouted before the man and his mates came over to them and decided to go round too. Neither of the boys knew exactly how it ended up happening but the first guy took a swing at Sherlock which meant more towards John before Lexi moved and intercepted the punch, twisting his wrist before she managed to pull his arm behind his back swiftly. His mate went to pull Lexi off his friend but she aimed a kick at him and he fell to the floor after her foot collided with his chest.

"Don't even think about it," She told him her Irish accent very thick. "Now, be on your way gents," Lexi said, shoving the man she was holding away from her. They both seemed to think against doing any more as Sherlock was now completely sober after seeing Lexi get into a bit of trouble and both he and John were standing behind Lexi now looking rather imposing. The three of them left the pub and headed back towards Baker Street, Lexi's arms slug over John and Sherlock's shoulders.

**Lexi's POV**

I breathed in deeply as I laid on top of the boys legs the both of them lying on the steps of the stairs in 221B. John was on his back by the wall with his arms folded and Sherlock was on his side facing to bannisters. I was propped up against Sherlock's back and my legs were lying across John's as we just laid there with our eyes closed. We had come back to Baker Street after our almost bar brawl but it wasn't really late yet. I was drunk, somewhat. The boys were a lot drunker than I was though, so much so that they were starting to doze off slightly.

"You and I remember Budapest very differently," I mumbled to Sherlock after he just got finished narrating a story to us which I couldn't quite remember happening.

"We have an international reputation," Sherlock slurred, changing the subject entirely, and John and I briefly opened our eyes before cling them again. John settled his head into a more comfortable position as Sherlock looked over his shoulder at John. "Do you have an international reputation?" Sherlock asked John before he settled his head down and closed his eyes again.

"No, I don't have an international reputation," John mumbled and I giggled slightly as I leaned my head back and tried to look at Sherlock which I failed at.

"No," Sherlock said and he paused for a moment before he turned his head towards John a little but didn't open his eyes. "And I can't even remember what for," Sherlock mumbled and I hummed slightly.

"Mmm…clever…things…," I said slowly, flailing my hand around before I frowned thoughtfully. "I think," I added, not able to actually remember what we did right now.

"Sss... Crime ... something or other," Sherlock said and I made an appreciative sound.

"Aye! That's it…crimes…murders and…things," I said as I closed my eyes again and Sherlock settled his head back down on the stair and grunted quietly. "I think I got hit by a cab once," I said with a thoughtfully frown and John opened his eyes lazily at me. "I was shot once though…I think," I said, shaking my head slightly. "No, that was you John," I said before lolling my head around to stare at Sherlock's arse which was honestly a rather nice view. The door to 221A opened and I opened my eyes lazily as Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat with a bag of rubbish. She stopped in surprise at the sight of the three of us lying at the bottom of the stairs and I pointed at her and waved slightly.

"Ooh! What are you three doing back? I thought you were going to be out late," Mrs. Hudson asked us and I hummed in agreement. I thought we were going to be out late too.

"Ah, Hudders. What time is it?" Sherlock asked her as he slurred and I giggled over his nickname for her. I was never going to let him live that down. Mrs. Hudson looked down at her watch before flicking her gaze back up to us.

"You've only been out two hours," Mrs. Hudson told us and I sat up and easily pulled myself to my feet as the boys sat up, trying to stand but finding out that they were too tightly wedged together. Sherlock fell off the step and thumped on his backside onto the next step down and I giggled loudly at that, swaying slightly as I looked down at him.

"Woman," Sherlock slurred and I reached down and helped him to his feet. As soon as he was standing he wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped me down, snogging me soundly. I hummed pleasantly before John cleared his throat and we broke apart as John threw us a reproving look and Mrs. Hudson watched us fondly. "Oh shut up," Sherlock said before kissing me again. I giggled when we broke apart, John making a disgusted face.

"You're just jealous because Mary isn't here," I told John before I took Sherlock's hand in mine and we started up the stairs together, Mrs. Hudson giggling at John's disgruntled face.

We relocated to upstairs and Sherlock and John fell into their arm chairs as I sat in between them, my head resting up against Sherlock's legs as I braided my hair. We were playing the Rizla Game which was played with Rizlas, thin white pieces of paper with glue along one of the long sides which were used to roll up loose tobacco to form a cigarette. I of course neglected to mention that we had them because Sherlock and I snuck the occasional cigarette. We had quit but then we got back into smoking while we were dismantling Moriarty's web. After nearly dying a cigarette and a bit of a cuddle was the only thing that could get us to calm down slightly. We limited it to one or two a week only which meant that we usually shared four a week. We decided that it was best if John didn't know about that. Sherlock had a Rizla paper stuck to his forehead and written on it in John's handwriting were the words "SHERLOCK HOLMES". Sherlock looked blurrily across to John, who had a Rizla stuck to his own forehead which reads, in somewhat wobbly writing by Sherlock, "MADONNA". John peered at him, apparently trying to keep his eyes open as I looked at the both of them, a Rizla stuck to my own forehead which John had written down something on for me.

"Am I a vegetable?" John asked us as I took a sip of my whiskey, Sherlock pointing at him with his free hand which was not currently holding his own tumbler of amber liquid. I had broken out my bottle of aged Irish whiskey to continue on our little party.

"You, or the thing?" Sherlock asked John and I giggled as both of the boys sniggered and I leaned my head back to look at Sherlock.

"Funny!" John told Sherlock who looked down as his cheeks tinged slightly red.

"Thank you," Sherlock said bashfully and I nuzzled my face against his knee before turning my head which was a bit fuzzy to look at John.

"You're a potato," I joked and Sherlock chuckled loudly as John giggled. "Wait… that makes you a hobbit," I said in realization as I pointed at John. "You're Bilbo Baggins!" I cheered excitedly. "Oh, that's brilliant that makes Sherlock Smaug because of his deep voice and the dramatic "I am fire, I am death" sort of talk!" I said excitedly and the boys both shot me odd looks. "Don't ruin my happiness," I told them, pointing at them and Sherlock rolled his eyes as John giggled again. "You two are so adorable," I giggled before I turned and looked back up at Sherlock as he started playing with my hair.

"Come on," John told us and Sherlock raised his head again to look at John.

"No, you're not a vegetable," Sherlock slurred to John and I frowned thoughtfully.

"Possibly…check back with me later," I told John slowly as Sherlock looked down at me.

"What are you doing down there?" He asked me and I hummed slightly as I stared up at him with a smile on my face.

"Enjoying the view," I told him as I watched him upside down.

"Get up here," He told me and I got to my feet, almost falling on my ass before I managed to stand straight, my hands out at my sides for balance. I felt slightly dizzy from the sudden movement and I closed my eyes, shaking my head slightly before I opened them, frowning down at my whiskey. I might want to slow down just a bit.

"I'm alright," I said and John giggled as I set my glass down on the dining table before Sherlock pulled me down into his lap. He chuckled as my limbs draped over his lap awkwardly and the sound rumbled lowly in his chest. I giggled and righted myself slightly before I nuzzled my face into Sherlock's chest, humming happily as I breathed in Sherlock's scent which was overlaid with smoke and the smell of the pubs.

"Lexi, you're turn," John said as he pointed towards me and I lifted my head and nodded slightly.

"Am I Irish?" I asked and John frowned at me slightly.

"You or the thing?" John asked me which sent us into sniggers again.

"The thing," I clarified and John shook his head. "Am I British then?" I asked and Sherlock squinted up at what was written on my forehead.

"I think so," Sherlock told me and I nodded slightly before I frowned and thought about what else I could ask.

"Human?" I asked them and John made a humming sound.

"Questionably," John told me and I snorted at that as Sherlock answered with an, "I think so."

"Wow look at you, you're both so helpful," I said sarcastically before shaking my head and I flailed my hand around.

"It's your go," John told Sherlock as he picked up his own glass and drank.

"Errr ... am I human?" Sherlock asked us slowly and I frowned at what was written on his forehead.

"Sometimes," John told him and Sherlock shook his head slightly.

"Can't have 'sometimes'. Has to be, um ...," Sherlock said as he struggled to pull himself and me up a little in his chair as he had slumped down slightly.

"Yes, you're human," John said as he put his glass down and slumped back in his seat.

"… 'yes' or 'no'…," I finished for Sherlock and he hummed in agreement with me.

"Mmm…that thing…Okay," Sherlock said as he leaned forward woozily and braced his upper arms on my leg.

"And am I a man?" Sherlock asked us and I grinned as I looked him over hungrily.

"You certainly are," I said suggestively as John answered with a "Yep."

"Tall?" Sherlock asked us next and John held his hands wide.

"Not as tall as people think," John told them as I narrowed my eyes slightly and studied him closely.

"Taller than me," I told Sherlock and he hummed before he nuzzled his face into my neck.

"Nice?" Sherlock asked suddenly as he shot his head up again.

"Ish,"John told him and I shook my head slightly.

"Very nice," I told Sherlock, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Clever?" The consulting detective asked us next and I giggled.

"That's debateable," I told him as he slowly rolled his gaze over to me and furrowed his brows slightly.

"I'd say so," John told him and Sherlock and I looked over at him, Sherlock's eyebrow raising slightly.

"You would?" Sherlock asked and John chuckled. "Mmm, am I important?" Sherlock asked us next.

"To s-some people," John slurred and I nodded brightly as I pulled back and rubbed Sherlock's cheekbone with my thumb.

"You are very important to me," I told Sherlock and he smiled slightly before he kissed my forehead and I curled up on him, tucking my head under his chin.

"Do "people" ...," Sherlock said, making vague air-quotes around the word "…like me?"

"Er, no, they don't. You tend to rub 'em up the wrong way," John said, reaching for his glass but not picking it up.

"You rub me the right way," I said suggestively and John coughed as Sherlock made a humming sound which rumbled lowly in his chest.

"Okay," Sherlock said slowly and John sniggered as Sherlock slumped back in out chair and then leaned forward again. "Am I the current King of England?" Sherlock asked us and I frowned thoughtfully as I tilted my head to the side.

"Are you ...?" John said, trailing off as he cackled with laughter. "You know we don't have a king?" John asked us and I narrowed my eyes slightly at him.

"Don't we?" Sherlock as John, frowning as well.

"No," John said and he chuckled again briefly.

"British…obviously," I slurred and Sherlock chuckled slightly. "I'm not British though am I?" I asked the boys as I frowned slightly and John pursed his lips.

"You're…," Sherlock said, flailing around for the right word.

"No," John answered me and I hummed, pointing at him.

"You're though John," I said and he nodded at me.

"…Irish," Sherlock finally settled on and I hummed brightly. "…and sexy and… I think…," Sherlock slurred as he looked at me, frowning slightly as he studied my face. "…that I married you," He finished before he nodded. "I definitely married you," He settled on and I giggled before I leaned in and kissed him, rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone. He hummed pleasantly as our tongues slid together and I grinned into the kiss as I tasted the whiskey in his mouth. After a few moments John cleared his throat, breaking us up. Sherlock and I sighed in exasperation before Sherlock sat back in his chair. "Your go," Sherlock told John before he drank from his glass. Unfolding his legs, John shifted forward until he was sitting right on the edge of his seat. He instantly started to slide off and reached out to brace himself with one hand on Sherlock's right knee, touching the side of my thigh at the same time. He pushed himself back a little, then he, Sherlock, and I look down at his hand. John pulled it away and held both his hands out, shrugging as I giggled.

"I don't mind," John told us and Sherlock raised his fingers around his glass and shrugged to indicate that he wasn't bothered either.

"Shite happens," I told him as I rested my head on Sherlock's shoulder, shrugging before I did so.

"Am I a woman?" John asked us suddenly and I turned to look at John, frowning in confusion before I realized that he was asking us what he was. Sherlock looked at him for a second, then snorted laughter. He chuckled for a few moments as I giggled with him.

"What?" John asked us in confusion.

"Yes," Sherlock told him as I nodded and again Sherlock tried to straighten us up on the chair.

"Am I ... pretty?" John asked us as he pointed up to his Rizla. "This," John told us as he propped his head up on one fist.

"Err ... Er, beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences and role models," Sherlock said before he looked at me and looked me over with a somewhat hungry look in his eyes. "You are gorgeous though," Sherlock told me and he crashed his lips with mine. "How did I get you to marry me again?" Sherlock asked me in confusion but John interrupted me before I could answer him.

"Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?" John asked us and he blinked owlishly at Sherlock and me. Sherlock leaned forward and screwed up his eyes to peer at the Rizla.

"I don't know who you are. I don't know who you're supposed to be," Sherlock told John and I made a sound in my throat that was almost a laugh as I grinned at my boys drunkenly.

"You picked the name!" John said in exasperation as I giggled, just watching them in amusement now.

"Ah, but I picked it at random from the papers," Sherlock explained to John, flailing a hand towards another part of the room.

"You're not really getting the hang of this game, are you, Sherlock?" John asked him as he slumped back down in his chair and I frowned at him slightly.

"He's doing fine," I told John as I patted Sherlock on the arm and he smiled slightly at me.

"So I am human, I'm not as tall as people think I am ...," Sherlock listed, raising his eyes towards his own Rizla before he sat back in the chair. "I'm-I'm nice-ish ...," Sherlock said as John stretched out his socked feet and propped them against the front of Sherlock's chair next to Sherlock's legs and my dangling sock clad foot. "... clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way," Sherlock said before he laughed with delight. "Got it," Sherlock told us.

"Go on, then," John told him.

"I'm you, aren't I?" Sherlock asked John and me and I shook my head at him.

"Nope," I told him, popping the p in the word before I kissed him. "Wait hang on!" I said brightly as we broke apart and I looked over at John as I suddenly got a bright idea. "I'm British and sort of human… am I Mycroft?" I asked John and he narrowed his eyes, reading the name on my forehead.

"Yes actually," John told me and I crowed in delight. It was the first name I could think of that went with questionably human and British. Mycroft was British, really British… Britishest person I'd ever met. Mrs. Hudson suddenly looked on the open door with her customary "Ooh-ooh!" We looked round at her to find that she was standing in the doorway with a young woman who was wearing a nurse's outfit with a cardigan over it.

"Client!" Mrs. Hudson told us and I pointed at the young woman, lolling my head around.

"Hallo," John told her as I grinned brightly.

"Hallo!" Sherlock told her waving and I giggled slightly.

"Dia duit! [Hello]" I said brightly in Gaelic before I giggled and Mrs. Hudson turned to go back down the stairs.

"Come on," John said, gesturing the woman into the room.

"I know you're Lexi MacKenna," The woman said pointing to me and I waved at her again. "But which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?" The woman asked as she looked between John and Sherlock. Smiling broadly at her, John raised his hand and, whistling a single rising note through his teeth in time with his hand movement, he slowly pointed up towards the words on Sherlock's Rizla. Sherlock grinned widely at her as I giggled drunkenly. Shortly afterwards, the three of us had removed the papers from our foreheads and relocated to sit on the couch, Sherlock and John sitting on either end as I sat in between them. Tessa sat on a dining chair facing us in what the three of us liked to call, the clients seat.

"I don't ... a lot ... I mean, I don't ... date all that much ...," Our client, who was named Tessa, started hesitantly and Sherlock sunk back onto the sofa and propped his head up on my shoulder. "...and ... he seemed ... nice, you know?" Tessa asked us and I nodded at her in understanding as John smiled at her and then blinked slowly, trying to keep his eyes open. "We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night – dinner, such interesting conversation. It was ... lovely," Tessa told is and John smiled again before glancing briefly towards Sherlock. While both men were so drunk they were barely able to pay attention to her, I was actually listening to her. I was buzzed, really sort of tipsy, but I could still think and this case which presented itself to us had sobered me up a bit. "To be honest, I'd love to have gone further ...," Tessa said and I hummed slightly, making a face as Sherlock's eye's drifted close and he started to doze off on my shoulder. He forced his eyes open and shook his head, sitting up and withdrawing his right hand from where he had draped it along the back of the sofa behind me. "...but I thought, 'No, this is special. Let's take it slowly ...," Tessa said and I nodded at her, able to understand that myself. Sherlock and I had taken things slowly at first, painfully slowly upon reflection. I knew I loved him back during the case of the Blind Banker and I had waited far too long to tell him. My things would have worked out with Irene differently if I hadn't but what did happen only strengthened our relationship more. Sherlock leaned forward, braced his elbows on his legs, and folded his hands in front of his mouth while John shifted his own position. "...exchange numbers." Tessa continued as Sherlock's eyes drifted closed again and I sighed in exasperation and blew some of my hair out of my eyes. "He said he'd get in touch and then ...," Tessa said, looking down sadly. "Maybe he wasn't quite as keen as I was ...," She continued as John was practically asleep with his eyes open next to me but he shrugged vaguely at her, "...but I – I just thought ...," Tessa told me, becoming tearful. "...at least he'd call to say that we were finished," Tessa said and I frowned, wondering how one date suddenly meant you were dating. She lifted a hand to wipe a tear from her eye as Sherlock's face filled with sympathy and sadness for her. I bit my lip to hold back a giggle that threatened to bubble forth as I had never seen that expression on his face before and I was not used to it in the least. Tessa fell silent and Sherlock looked towards me, his face still full of sympathetic pain ... then he frowned at me as if wondering where the hell that emotion came from. I nodded at him, patting him on the arm before kissing the side of his head and he grinned drunkenly at him. Well, this was going to be a rather long night. "I went round there, to his flat," Tessa said, pulling herself together when I was just starting to wonder if she was finished yet. Sherlock recovered and propped his chin on his clasped hands. "No trace of him. Mr. Holmes, Ms. MacKenna...," Tessa told us and I frowned thoughtfully as Sherlock smiled cheesily at her because she mentioned me, his eyes starting to close at the same time. "... I honestly think I had dinner ... with a ghost," Tess finished, gazing down at the floor beside the sofa and I snorted before spacing out for a second as I was unsure if I had completely heard her right or just was hearing things because of the alcohol. Tessa turned her head and looks at Sherlock and me and neither of the boys or I reacted to what she just said, but a slight grunt came from Sherlock, followed by a noisy but brief exhale. "Mr Holmes? Ms. MacKenna?" Tess asked us as I continued to stare at her. Sherlock and John both had their eyes closed at this point and Sherlock started to snore gently as John's head dropped lower and he grunted quietly. "With a ghost, Mr. Holmes! Are you even listening to me Ms. MacKenna?" Tessa asked me loudly and I nodded at her slowly.

"Yeah," I told her with a bit of a slur. "Just making sure I heard you right," I assured her as Sherlock's head fell off his hands and he almost tumbled off the sofa.

"Boring, boring, boring – no!" Sherlock said, finishing the last word excitedly as he forced himself back upright. John drew in a noisy breath and rolled his head on his neck still asleep. "Fascinating!" Sherlock shouted before he turned round to John. "John – John! Wake up!" Sherlock shouted as he leaned across me and shook John's leg. John opened his eyes and flailed at him before Sherlock turned back to Tessa. "Apologies about our...," Sherlock slurred before he pointed towards John. "...you know ... thing."

"Friend," I supplied and Sherlock hummed and pointed at me, moving his finger around before he bopped me on the nose and I frowned as he pulled in a breath and cleared his throat before he turned to John and pointed at him.

"Rude. Rude!" Sherlock told John sternly and I slapped his hand down. He pouted at me before we both turned back to Tessa and I gestured for her to just continue.

"I checked with the landlord, and the man who lived there died. Heart attack. And there we are, having dinner one week on," Tessa told us and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully as she picked up her handbag from the floor and rummaged in it.

"Well, there is a plausible explanation for that. He could have given you the wrong address, a false identity…doesn't mean he's a ghost," I said and she ignored me as she just continued on and I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

"And I found this thing online, sort of chatroom thing ...," Tessa said as she took a printout out of her purse and gave it over to Sherlock and me. "...for girls who think they're dating men from the spirit world," Tessa finished as I looked down at the printout and snorted. I didn't believe this for a second.

"Yup, I just have a face that no one listens too," I said, only to be ignored again. I had had seen some rather odd cases before but I highly doubted that she was dating a ghost, if you can call one date dating. Three is what I considered to be a minimum before you could claim you were dating and each other's boy or girlfriend. John had fallen asleep again but Sherlock stood up and then wobbled a little unsteadily. I sighed, putting the printout on the coffee table as I stood up and steadied Sherlock. Not to self, don't take the boys out drinking again.

"Don't worry. We'll find him in ten minutes," Sherlock told Tessa who smiled at us in delight. "What's your dog's name?" Sherlock asked her and I hummed, shaking my head at him.

"Wrong case love," I told him as I rubbed my face tiredly.

"Yeah, I'm there if you want it," John said blurrily, talking in his sleep.

"John! Wake up!" Sherlock shouted and he leaned across me and shoved John's shoulder, the army doctor almost falling sideways. "We're meant to ...," Sherlock said, clicking his fingers. "...The game's...," He continued, waving his hand vaguely. "...something," He said before stumbling away and I frowned thoughtfully as I tried to remember how it went. John's eyes drifted upwards as he applied all his mental skills to the problem and then pointed at Sherlock as I did the same.

"...on," John said as I simultaneously said "…afoot." Tessa gasped excitedly and Sherlock staggered over and pointed down at John.

"Yeah, that, that!" Sherlock told John before he pointed at me. "And I like that…it's…snazzy," Sherlock told me and I giggled as he turned and wandered off again.

"Okay!" Tessa said excitedly as she stood up and John slowly pushed himself to his feet. I shrugged once before following them out of the flat, pulling my coat and scarf on as I started down the stairs, watching out that Sherlock and John didn't fall down the stairs as Tessa followed behind me.

"Lead us on to greater justice! We'll boldly go where no consulting detective has gone before. It's time to enter…the Twilight Zone!" I said brightly as we waited on the curb for a cab and the boys and Tessa turned to me, giving me odd looks. I shrugged at them before a cab finally slowed down and the four of us got in, Tessa getting into the front seat as Sherlock, John, and I slid into the back together.

One drunken cab ride later which I paid for and we were shown up to the supposed flat of Tessa's ghost boyfriend. In the living room of the flat, Sherlock wobbled unsteadily in front of a large clear glass plate on a stand. The block of flat was more like a warehouse conversion and they actually reminded me a bit of where I used to live, all dingy and dark. It was a rather large apartment with bare brick walls and a very high ceiling, nice for London and definitely pricy so our 'ghost' had money and a lot of it. The room was decorated with several pieces of modern furniture and art. Again, most of it was rather pricy. I didn't like it. Sherlock grinned drunkenly at the glass plate and I giggled at him before he straightened up a bit and looked around the room. He was currently kneeling on the sofa with his arms braced on its back as I stood slightly behind him, John standing nearby us, leaning against a supporting pillar in the middle of the room.

"Ohhh, it's nice!" John said, commenting on the room as Sherlock stood up off the sofa, then promptly fell back onto it. He reached up and took my by the waist before pulling me down half next and half on top of him which I didn't mind at all. John turned a little and braced his hand against the supporting column. Tessa was standing nearby, together with the landlord who was holding a set of keys and looking at the three of us in confusion. "Nice place," John repeated and I hummed from the couch as Sherlock pressed kisses to my cheek and head.

"Very…chic…suave…," I said before I giggled, Sherlock pausing in his kisses as everyone eyed me oddly. "Suave…haha, I like that word. It sounds funny…suave," I said slowly, lowering my voice to more of a timber before dissolving into giggles again and Sherlock frowned at me briefly as the landlord sighed and crossed his arms. Sherlock got up, pulling me to my feet with him and I stumbled slightly before we both tottered around the living room in our inebriated states.

"See anything?" Tessa asked us and Sherlock hummed questioningly as I lolled my head around and looked at her over my shoulder, raising one eyebrow at her before I looked back at Sherlock.

"A nice firm arse," I mumbled and Sherlock shot me a smirk as I looked at him appreciatively.

"Any clues, Mr Holmes? Ms. MacKenna?" Tessa asked us and I groaned as she interrupted my ogling. John had now braced his back against the column and he had his closed his eyes as I scanned the room, narrowing my eyes slightly as I started making deductions.

**Sherlock's POV**

"Oh, errrrrr ...," Sherlock slurred as he looked blurrily down at the fancy coffee table and started deducing:

**_designer_**

**_table_**

**_art?_**

He looked across to an armchair next:

**_chair_**

**_seat_**

**_leather_**

**_sleeeeep_**

Moving on to a fancy-looking speaker:

**_thing_**

**_speaker_**

**_hi tech_**

**_thing_**

His eyes drifted on to a painted animal skull on a stand ...

**_? death ?_**

**_skull_**

**_? deaded ?_**

... and then to a tall slender ornament on the window sill ...

**_wood ?_**

**_? pipe/tube/wotsit_**

**_thingamebob?_**

**_?_**

... and next to a pale green egg chair ...

**_egg ?_**

**_chair?_**

**_sitty thing?_**

**_?_**

Still uhmming vaguely, he wandered over to the chair and looked more closely at it, then twirled around and his eyes settled in a rather unfocused way on Tessa and he deduced her:

**_nurse_**

**_? client ?_**

**_victim ?_**

**_cardigan_**

Sherlock then looked across at Lexi and he deduced her as she stood there, a thoughtful frown on her face and her nose wrinkled up in that adorable way that made Sherlock just want to kiss her.

**_detective… obviously_**

**_? wife ?_**

**_sexy_**

**_definitely wife_**

**_mine_**

Sherlock looked away from Lexi and looked over at Tess before scratching his head. This was hard this…thinking…thing.

**Lexi's POV**

While Sherlock's gaze started to flick around the room I started to make my own deductions about it. Looking at the fancy coffee table:

**_Designer table_**

**_Very modern_**

**_Our man has some money at least_**

I looked across to the armchair next:

**_Armchair, one_**

**_Leather_**

**_Nice_**

**_Could take a nap on it_**

I moved on to the fancy-looking speaker next:

**_Hi-tech_**

**_Good with technology_**

**_Has to have the best and greatest equipment_**

I frowned up at the painted animal skull slightly:

**_Skull?_**

**_Slightly creepy_**

**_Ours at least had headphones on it and is art_**

I didn't even bother with the tall slender ornament on the windowsill as I had no idea what it was even supposed to be. I moved onto the egg chair which despite being cool and fun looking really didn't proved any useful information for the bases of a deduction. I instead looked over at Tessa, deducing her.

**Private Nurse**

**Paid well**

**Likes her employer**

**Has a secret**

**Suspicious**

I looked over at Sherlock who was watching me before he looked back at Tessa, scratching his head slightly as he suddenly looked inspired. He grinned at Tessa and I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

"I'm just gonna whip this out," Sherlock slurred and I grumbled at him.

"Not here," I scolded him and he looked over his shoulder at me like a petulant child.

"I didn't mean that. That's later," Sherlock told me suggestively with a smirk as he put his hand in his coat pocket, then stumbled in circles across the room while he tugged at whatever he was trying to pull out. Eventually he managed to extract his pouch of equipment from the pocket, simultaneously shaking off his coat and dropping it to the floor. He blinked at the pouch, then unrolled it and took out his magnifier. He reached for my hand and I took it as he tossed the pouch over his shoulder and held the magnifier up to show the others. "Mm-hmm?" Sherlock hummed as he clicked it open. The landlord sighed again while Tessa smiled awkwardly at the both of us. John was still half-asleep leaning against the pillar. Sherlock dropped to his knees on a white rug and I fell beside him with a little grunt before Sherlock braced himself with his left hand and slowly wobbled forward onto his right elbow. Tessa turned to John and gently pushed him upright from the pillar.

"You all right?" Tess asked John as she smiled at him brightly.

"Hmm? Yeah. They're clueing," John answered her vaguely.

"What?" Tessa asked him in confusion as she frowned.

"They're ... hmm? They're clueing for looks," John told her and the two of them looked down at Sherlock and me. Sherlock had brought his face down to within about four inches of the rug and he was holding his magnifier to his eye and looking through it, then his eyes drifted closed and he slowly toppled forward and face-planted onto the rug. I tried to help him up but only ended up falling sideways onto the rug next to him. It was sort of plushy and comfy and I honestly didn't feel like getting up again.

"Mr Holmes? Ms. MacKenna?" Tessa asked us and neither Sherlock nor I responded to her but Sherlock remained on his knees with his bum stuck up in the air. He snored noisily as I looked across to him and stared at the most beautiful man in the entire Universe who I could not believe I got to call mine. Tessa looked nervously at the landlord and she stepped forward towards Sherlock and me. "Mr. Holmes?! Ms. MacKenna!?" Tessa called louder and I grunted slightly, still refusing to move from my comfortable spot.

"I'm calling the police," The landlord said and Tessa looked back at him nervously.

"Oh, no ...," Tessa said as the landlord walked across to the rug and hauled me up onto my knees roughly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sherlock shouted, instantly moving and he flailed about indignantly as he angrily looked at the landlord. "Don't touch my… Lexi," Sherlock told the landlord furiously who stepped back as John held out a warning hand to him.

"These are the famous detectives. It's Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna and their partner, John Hamish Watson," Tessa said as John stepped towards the landlord, attempting and utterly failing to look threatening. A part of my brain registered that Tessa said John Hamish Watson, not just John Watson or Dr Watson as she should have. I was however quite drunk so my brain stored this bit of information away for later.

"What d'you think you're doing?" Sherlock asked the landlord indignantly as he looked me over to see if I was hurt, which I wasn't. "Don't compromise the integrity of the ...," Sherlock added and he suddenly turned away from me, bent over, and threw up on the rug. I grimaced slightly in disgust as the landlord closed his eyes, and Tessa put her hand across her mouth. John's eyes drifted upwards as he went into full thinking mode again. Eventually he found the words he needed to finish Sherlock's sentence for him as did I at the same moment.

"...crime scene!" John and I said loudly in unison, John saying it proudly while I said it in irritation as I glared at the landlord who I was blaming for making Sherlock sick as that made sense in my drunken state. John grinned triumphantly at Tessa and held up his right palm for her to high-five. She didn't take up the offer however and he eventually lowered his hand again and shook his head. Sherlock coughed and I patted him on the back soothingly before he straightened up onto his knees again. He gestured towards John with the magnifier.

"Yeah, that," Sherlock told John and looking up at all of us he delicately clicked his magnifier closed before he wiped the vomit off his mouth.

"You are so using more than mouthwash before you kiss me again," I slurred and Sherlock pouted at me as the landlord stomped his way down stairs with Tessa following after him hurriedly, trying to dissuade him from calling the police. "Brits just can't hold their bloody liquor," I said, shaking my head before I helped Sherlock to his feet and led him over to the couch which is where the three police officers found Sherlock, John, and me sitting, our feet propped up on the coffee table, when they came to retrieve us.

**Third Person POV **

John suddenly woke up and found himself in a very bright room somewhere. He could hear his heartbeat along with his gentle exhale sounds which sounded very loud to him. He made a rasping sound as he moved his eyes behind his eyelids and the screwed up his eyes a couple of times, the movements making squelchy sounds. He finally opened his eyes and blinked with a loud click as a door opened nearby by him. John realized that he was sitting on the floor of a white-tiled room with his back against the wall. He grimaced at the sound of the door as Lestrade's voice suddenly came booming into the room.

"Wakey-wakey!" Lestrade called cheerfully and John heard movement off to his left.

"Good, you're here, I have to pee," Lexi's voice said, her Irish accent really thick and John grimaced as both of their voices, Lexi's a lot quieter than Lestrade's, made his head start to throb badly.

"Oh my God," John said realizing that he was in a jail cell and he peered towards the door as Lexi moved off to his side. Sherlock was lying flat out on his back and fast asleep on the bench of the holding cell and Lexi was lying on top of him for the most part because the benches weren't really designed to fit two people. "Greg. Is that Greg?" John asked in confusion as Lexi groaned slightly and yawned before she lifted herself off of Sherlock's chest and stood up, stumbling slightly as she caught her footing before she frowned and looked down at her bare feet.

"They took my shoes? Really? If I wanted to kill someone in this cell I wouldn't need to use my shoes as a weapon," Lexi said in exasperation as she crossed her arms over her chested and padded over to the opposite wall of the cell and leaned against the wall on her left shoulder. "Plus would it have killed them to have given me my coat? I'm the only one in a dress and it is a bit chilly in here. Not exactly five star cells," Lexi continued and Lestrade shot her a despairing look.

"I'm going to act like I didn't hear that first part and we'll get your coat to you in a minute," Lestrade told her before looking over at John. "Get up. I'm gonna put you three in a taxi. Managed to square things with the desk sergeant," Lestrade told John who painfully climbed to his feet. Greg laughed disparagingly. "What a couple of lightweights! You couldn't even make it to closing time!" Lestrade said before he looked round to Lexi.

"I drank them under the table," Lexi said, smiling proudly at her accomplishment. "And they said it couldn't be done."

"Making your Irish ancestors proud," Lestrade laughed and Lexi snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes.

"Not really that difficult. Neither of them can hold their liquor," Lexi said and John frowned at the both of them.

"Can you two whisper?" John asked them quietly as he slowly walked towards them

"NOT REALLY!" Lestrade yelled in his ear as he walked past. Sherlock suddenly flailed upwards on the bench, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. He looked round the cell in bewilderment before his eyes landed on Lexi who was laughing brightly, a sound that made everyone happy just by hearing it. John gave Greg a look of hurt betrayal before he left the cell and Greg beckoned to Sherlock.

"Come on," Greg told him before he followed John and Lexi walked over to him as Sherlock sat up on the bench.

"Up you get love," Lexi said as she helped Sherlock stand up. He tottered and fell back onto the bench and Lexi pulled him up again before letting go of his hands. He reached up and put his fingers to his temples, wobbling on one foot as Lexi giggled. After a moment he lowered his hands and looked at Lexi who was standing in front of him.

"Have I told you I love you yet today?" Sherlock asked her, his voice thick with sleep and slightly hoarse and Lexi shook her head in response. "I love you then," Sherlock told her, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling his face into her neck.

"I love you too idiot," Lexi said, pulling Sherlock's face up to hers before she kissed him soundly. Greg called for them from the hall and told them not to dare make him come back in there and Lexi sighed before taking Sherlock's hand in hers and they both delicately paddled out of the cell.

At the police station front desk, Sherlock grunted with the effort of putting his coat back on after he helped Lexi into hers. She stood, putting her heels back on as John tucked his wallet into his back pocket.

"Well, thanks for a ... you know ...," John said as the three of them turned and walked away from the desk after they got their mobiles, wallets, and coats back and in Lexi's case shoes and various other things she had in her pockets like apparently everything needed to make a rudimentary blow gun. "...an evening," John told the two of them and Sherlock screwed up his face.

"It was awful," Sherlock said in horror and John nodded quickly in agreement.

"Yeah," John agreed and Sherlock groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was gonna pretend, but it was, truly," John said and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes at the two of them, drawing Sherlock and John's attention to her. "What?" John asked her in confusion and she shook her head at them both in exasperation.

"The pair of you…carrying on like that. That was brilliant last night. And hardy har har I was right," Lexi said, poking John in the chest as they paused in the hallway. "You brought shame to your family names last night. The Irish can still out drink the British," Lexi said happily and Sherlock and John both frowned at her.

"Wait hang on, you don't have a hang over?" John asked Lexi in shock and she shook her head, smiling brightly.

"Nope, but you two lightweights do," Lexi said as they started walking again and John made a disgruntled noise.

"Lexi," Sherlock said sternly and Lexi shot him a passive look and held her hands up defensively.

"Alright, alright, I won't gloat…much," Lexi told him, smirking slightly and Sherlock shook his head at her despairingly.

"That woman, Tessa," Sherlock said changing the subject as he finally lowered his hand from his head which was throbbing steadily.

"What?" John asked, looking away from Lexi and over at him in confusion.

"Dated a ghost. The most interesting case for months. What a wasted opportunity," Sherlock said bitterly and Lexi hummed slightly.

"...Okay," John said slowly, not sure what that had to do with anything.

"Not really," Lexi said and John and Sherlock both snapped their heads round to look at her and Sherlock raised his eyebrow questioningly as she shrugged. "I got Tessa's contact info and I told her before we were arrested last night for disturbing the peace that we would be in contact with her but currently we were not at our best due to a stag night gone a bit wrong. We also still have the printout that she gave us for that website in our flat. We can start there," Lexi told the boys as they walked out of New Scotland Yard. "Speaking of which, we should get back to Baker Street. I can't give you back to Mary like this," Lexi said, gesturing to John and the three of them chuckled before they got into a cab and drove back to Baker Street. It had been just another night, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street boys against the rest of the world and these nights were never going to change.


	96. Let's Play Murder

**Hello sweeties! Now it's time for our detectives to do what they do best and solve this case. So, Allons-y!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Four - Let's Play Murder<strong>

**John's POV**

As soon as they returned to Baker Street, Sherlock and Lexi headed upstairs, Lexi going to take care of Sherlock while John headed into Mrs. Hudson's flat to give them a few minutes on their own. He was assured that Sherlock was going to be a bit of a nightmare with a hangover as he was a nightmare most times without one. John dropped and effervescent antacid pill into a glass of water and it started to fizz as it dissolved. After a few seconds John sighed quietly, picked up the glass and drank it down.

"How are you feeling?" Mrs. Hudson asked him as he walked in and John hummed slightly, as he closed his eyes briefly and drank again, his head throbbing painfully. "It's just like old times, having you back here," Mrs. Hudson said, smiling happily and John put the glass down and smiled towards her as they both heard Lexi laugh brightly from upstairs. They both looked back towards the door and smiled slightly, as they heard Sherlock groan slightly, no doubt falling prey to Lexi's mothering. Mrs. Hudson brought a plate across the kitchen to the table where John was sitting. "Thought I'd make your favourite, one last time," Mrs. Hudson said as she put the plate down in front of him. "I know Lexi normally makes it for you but well…," Mrs. Hudson said, pausing as they heard laughter from upstairs again, Sherlock's chuckle joining the mix now. "…well there're a bit busy right now," She finished as John looked down at the full English breakfast on his plate, a fried egg, two sausages, mushrooms, baked beans, tomato slices and two half-slices of buttered toast.

"Mm. Don't sound so ... final about it. I will be visiting, you know," John told Mrs. Hudson, wondering why she was making it seem as if she was never going to be seeing him again. It was the same discussion that he had been having with Sherlock and Lexi. Nothing was going to change, in fact John was quite sure that Lexi was going to make sure that nothing was going to.

"Ooh, I've heard that one before!" Mrs. Hudson said as John picked up his cutlery and started cutting into his breakfast.

"Mm, no, it's different now, though, isn't it? It's different to when we thought we'd lost them," John told Mrs. Hudson, meaning that unlike before, he actually would be visiting a lot more often. It had been difficult for him to visit Baker Street when the flat just brought back memories of Lexi and Sherlock. They were alive now though. Things were a lot different than before.

"Well, marriage changes everything, John," Mrs. Hudson said, throwing him a knowing look as John lifted his forkful of food towards his mouth, then looked at it and paused.

"Does it?" John asked her in confusion. How could marriage really change everything?

"Yeah," Mrs. Hudson answered him as she sat down opposite him. "You might not think it, but it does," She continued and John moved the fork closer to his mouth, then changed his mind and lowered it back to the plate, groaning quietly. These sorts of conversations with Mrs. Hudson generally went on for a little while and he wouldn't be eating anytime soon. "It's a different phase in your life," Mrs. Hudson said and John pushed the plate away from him a little. "Look at Sherlock and Lexi. They're so much closer than they were before. They're changed, more dependent upon each other. You never see one without the other these days. You remember the first few months, how they were like. Now looking at them you could never imagine that there's ever been anything different between them," Mrs. Hudson said and John hummed in agreement. She had a point about that. "You meet new people 'cause you're a couple ...," Mrs. Hudson continued and John hummed again. "... and then you just ... let your old friends slip away."

"It won't be like that," John told her quickly, meaning it. He wasn't just going to stop seeing Sherlock and Lexi because he got married. They were a big part of his life and it nearly killed him when he lost them the first time. They were his best mates, Sherlock like a brother and Lexi like a sister.

"Well, if you've found the right one – the person that you click with – it's the best thing in the world," Mrs. Hudson told him wistfully.

"Well, I have. I know I have," John told her, nodding to himself as he thought of Mary. She was everything that he had ever been looking and hoping for. Lexi had been right, they were perfect for each other.

"Oh, I'm sure. She's lovely!" Mrs. Hudson said with a bright smile and John grinned a bit.

"Yeah. I think so. What about you?" John asked Mrs. Hudson curiously.

"Me?" She asked him, slightly confused.

"Did you think you'd found the right one when you married Mr. Hudson?" John asked her, figuring that there was a story somewhere in there. Lexi knew it of course, she often spent time downstairs having tea with Mrs. Hudson but John and Sherlock could only listen to her ramble on in short bursts. She had a tendency to carry on for a bit about various topics.

"No! It was just a whirlwind thing for us. I knew it wouldn't work, but I just got sort of swept along," Mrs. Hudson smiled as she thought back to her own marriage.

"Right," John told her with a slightly nod and she continued on happily.

"And then we moved to Florida. We had a fantastic time, but of course I didn't know what he was up to," Mrs. Hudson said before whispering the last word. "The drugs."

"Drugs?" John laughed before he grimaced at the pain in his head.

"He was running ... um, oh God, what d'you call it? Um, a ... cartel," Mrs. Hudson told him, frowning thoughtfully and John propped his head up with his fingers. He was tired and his head hurt. Now he could remember why he didn't go drinking with Lexi in the first place. "Got in with a really bad crowd."

"Right," John said, hoping that she was almost done but she kept on rambling.

"And then I found out about all the other women. I didn't have a clue! So, when he was actually arrested for blowing someone's head off ...," Mrs. Hudson said and John's eyes drifted sideways, the army doctor feeling a little confused by the matter-of-fact way she just said the phrase. "...it was quite a relief, to be honest."

"... Right," John said slowly this time as he looked at Mrs. Hudson a bit differently, wondering where this was supposed to be going.

"It was purely physical between me and Frank. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. Lexi and Sherlock are a bit like that. I hear them getting up to things all the time," Mrs. Hudson said, throwing a knowing look at John and the army doctor coughed awkwardly before he lowered his head, cringing. There were some things he did not need to know about. It was bad enough that Lexi and Sherlock were making some rather suggestive comments to one another the night before that he had been privy to witnessing. "I know, there was one night ..." Mrs. Hudson started and John quickly held up a finger to stop her, then turned the finger to point upwards.

"Hang on – was that ... Sherlock?" John asked Mrs. Hudson but there was no sound coming from above them now, not even Lexi's laughter. In fact, the upstairs flat had gone deadly quiet.

"Is it?" Mrs. Hudson asked John as she frowned slightly and John continued to point upwards, and raised the finger of his other hand to his lips. After a moment they heard footsteps upstairs, heavy footsteps, not the lighter ones that Lexi made.

"That's Sherlock," John said and he got up and painfully walked towards the kitchen door, groaning quietly.

**Sherlock's POV**

Upstairs, Sherlock had an online news article on his laptop screen. It showed a photograph of Major Sholto before he was injured, and a large strapline beside the photo read, "'He destroyed us all. And he gets a medal for it."' A few visible lines of text above and below the photo showed that this was an interview with Madeline Small, the mother of one of the soldiers who died under Sholto's command. The headline of the article read, "V.C. Hero – The Unanswered Questions. Why did my boy have to die?" Lexi was bustling about in the kitchen at the current moment and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to her, watching her for a long moment and shamelessly watching her swaying hips as she danced about the room on her tiptoes. Since they had returned to London, they had found a lot more chances to be intimate with one another but those numbers were still limited no matter what Mrs. Hudson might think. The total number of times they had actually had sex was three times, their unofficial wedding night being the first, their second being just after they came back to London after her leg healed and then again several weeks before. They both were still aware of the fact that they weren't legally married and they wanted to make things official before they did much more. Joanna and Mycroft seemed to have no qualms about it though and from what they knew, and Sherlock really didn't want to know, their love life was very exuberant. Sherlock looked towards the living room door when he heard John climbing the stairs and Lexi came back into the living room with two mugs of tea. Sherlock switched to a different tab on his laptop, the website for I DATED A as John came in and walked across to the dining table where Sherlock was sitting. Lexi placed one of the mugs of tea in front of Sherlock before she took a seat beside Sherlock in front of her laptop.

"There are going to be others," Sherlock told John and Lexi hummed as she sipped on her tea after blowing on the top of it.

"Others?" John asked in confusion as Sherlock nodded distractedly, watching as Lexi held her mug in one hand and typed one handedly with her free hand on her laptop.

"Victims, women," Sherlock clarified as he swallowed a sip of his scalding tea. "Most ghosts tend to haunt a single house – this ghost, however, is willing to commute, look," Sherlock said as he stood up and the three of them looked at a map of London spread out on the table behind the laptop. Sherlock and Lexi and stuck a pin in various places which indicated an appearance of the 'ghost date'. There were seven pins in the map, forming a rough circle spanning a few miles around the Thames. Sherlock slipped into his Mind Palace as he looked over at Lexi, using one of their methods of deduction that they had discovered. It was a combination of their mental conversations and their Mind Palaces. By using it, it was like they were actively in each other's Mind Places and they could have entire conversations while doing so. It first happened by chance when they were in Tibet and they had come to perfect the method.

Sherlock found himself in his a large Council Chamber that he used only on those occasions when he was working through a particularly difficult deduction. The room had wood panelling on the walls and a blue carpet. Banks of benches with red leather-covered seats formed a semi-circle around half of the room. There were six rows of these benches in tiers. At the front of the room on top of a high dais was a large ornate bench, reminiscent of a judge's bench in a courtroom, behind which was a chair where the Chairman would sit. This chair was high above the chamber floor. The chamber was initially empty but then the perspective changed and Sherlock found himself standing in front of the closed door at the rear of the room, and many women were standing silently in front of seats all around the room. Sherlock walked down the steps towards the floor, looking around him as he walked and then he reached the bottom and walked across towards the Chairman's bench. Lexi joined him as he turned to face the seats, walking out from amongst the group of women and Sherlock wrapped his arm around her as she tucked her head under his chin. There were at least forty-eight women standing around the room and Sherlock and Lexi both slowly scanned all of them. Sherlock pulled a thoughtful face, looking down at Lexi who was frowning in her adorable way and he kissed the top of her wrinkled nose before he pointed towards one of the women to his right.

"Mmmmmm, not you," Sherlock hummed and the woman sat down before Lexi lifted her hand and pointed to another woman on the right.

"Or you," Lexi said and that woman sat down too. Sherlock moved his hand down to Lexi's and he linked his fingers with her before they took a few steps forward together. Sherlock pointed to a woman on the left-hand side of the seating next as they eliminated everyone it couldn't be.

"Not you," Sherlock said and that woman sat before he pointed to another woman behind her. "Not you," Sherlock repeated and that woman sat down as well.

"Really not you," Lexi said, pointing to a woman next to the one Sherlock had just shot down.

"Hmm, no," Sherlock hummed and he smirked as he looked down at Lexi.

"Definitely not," Lexi said, shaking her head slightly at one of the other women and both of them sat down. They continued to go through all of the women one by one which continued for some time, each woman sitting as they dismissed them in turn. Eventually only four women remained standing. Sherlock and Lexi looked around the room once more before they walked over to the nearest of the standing women who was wearing a black dress.

"Hi," Sherlock told her politely as Lexi smiled.

"Hello, name?" Lexi asked the woman who smiled slightly back at her.

"Gail," The woman introduced and they turned and walked to the next nearest standing woman, who was wearing a denim jacket.

"Charlotte," The next woman introduced herself and they turned their heads in unison to look at the third woman, wearing a pink jacket.

"Robyn," She introduced and they turned to the final standing woman, wearing a red dress and red leather jacket.

"Vicky," She said and Lexi nodded once before they turned away and walked towards the Chairman's bench before they turned back and looked across the room again. The perspective changed and now all the seated women had vanished and the four remaining women were standing in a semi-circle in front of them. Sherlock looked at Lexi and raised his eyebrow questioningly and she shrugged slightly.

"Figured I would reorganize a bit, makes things easier to sift through," Lexi said and Sherlock nodded once before they looked across at Gail. He would never get over being amazed at how she could reorganize his Mind Palace and walk through it as if she was as much a part of it as he was.

"How did you meet?" Sherlock asked the four women as Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Came up to me in a pub," Gail told them before they looked over at Charlotte.

"Same gym as me," Charlotte told them and they turned their heads to Robyn.

"We just got chatting on the bus," Robyn said and Lexi frowned slightly in thought as they turned to Vicky who lowered her eyes flirtatiously at Sherlock.

"Online," Vicky said and Lexi growled under her breath.

"My husband, don't get any ideas," Lexi told her as she hugged Sherlock possessively to her side and Sherlock kissed the top of her head comfortingly before they turned back towards Gail.

"Name?" Sherlock asked her and she smirked slightly at him.

"Told you," She said and Lexi laughed at that after shooting another warning looking at Vicky.

"Cheeky, I like you, but not exactly what we meant," Lexi told Gail as the woman shot her a grin. Sherlock hummed in agreement and rolled his eyes slightly, smirking down at Lexi.

"His name," Sherlock clarified as he tightened his hold around Lexi and rubbed his thumb over her hip bone distractedly.

"Oscar," Gail told them and they turned their heads to Charlotte and then in turn to Robyn and Vicky as the other three women answered the question as well.

"Mike."

"Terry."

"Um, "love_monkey,"" Vicky said and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes in amusement as Sherlock frowned at her.

"Really original," Lexi scoffed and Vicky shrugged at her. "Alright so one thing they all had in common was common names, well except for Oscar, and they only have a first name, never a last," Lexi said and Sherlock nodded at her before they turned back to Gail.

"Your place?" Sherlock asked them as Lexi raised her eyebrow at them questioningly.

"His place," All four of the women answered simultaneously.

"Of course. He could control the situation that way," Lexi said before she turned to Sherlock and looked up at him. "It's like what we did with Moriarty," She told him and Sherlock hummed slightly before he smirked at her. That had been one of Lexi's brilliant ideas of course.

"Address?" Sherlock asked Gail but all four women simultaneously recited four different addresses. Lexi took a deep breath and then looked up at Sherlock, letting it out slowly and then nodding with a little hum.

"Well, that's a bit to sort through, even for me," Lexi said and Sherlock chuckled slightly before she looked back over at Gail. "So, Oscar, night with him, what was it like?" Lexi asked her and Gail shrugged at her slightly.

"Nothing happened. It was just ... very romantic," Gail answered her and Lexi nodded, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Same thing Tessa said. Didn't go any further but very romantic," Lexi said and Sherlock looked down at her as she raised her eyebrow slightly in thought. She had a point.

"Four women in four nights. He must have something special," Sherlock said as he looked over their heads and Lexi grinned and leaned her head against his arm.

"Nothing like you love," She told him and he smirked and leaned down, capturing her lips with his own.

"He was very charming," Gail told them as Lexi and Sherlock turned back to the women.

"He listened," Charlotte said with a bit of a shrug.

"He was sweet," Robyn told them wistfully.

"He had a lovely ...," Vicky started before she was interrupted.

"You two okay?" John asked and suddenly the army doctor was standing beside Sherlock and Lexi. Sherlock raised his hand towards Vicky and there was a beep as she fell silent. He lowered his hand and he and Lexi turned their heads to John, and the three of them were now standing in the living room of 221B. John looked down at the coffee table which had six laptops open on it. One of them was showing a typed message reading, "VICKY: He had a lovely ..." Also on the table was two plates containing a slice of gammon steak each with a pineapple slice on top of them, a fried egg and some chips. "Let your food go cold. Mrs. Hudson'll play hell," John told the two detectives and Lexi waved him off distractedly as she sat in front of her laptop, looking up at him and shrugging.

"Not now, John," Sherlock told John as he unbuttoned his jacket and squatted down to the coffee table and typed onto the laptop which was showing Vicky's message.

"Kind of busy. We'll eat later," Lexi assured him as she stood up and brought her laptop with her as she crossed over to Sherlock. She squatted down next to him and started typing into her laptop, on which several tabs were open, including one which Vicky's message was also displayed on. Both Lexi and Sherlock's screens were on the website I DATED A and the two detectives and Vicky were talking on its forum. His message came up reading, "SHERLOCK: Sorry about that." While Lexi's came in, "LEXI: Bit of an interruption." Back in the Council Chamber, Sherlock's hand was raised to Vicky but now he lowered it.

"Sorry about that," Sherlock apologized and the beep sounded again.

"Bit of an interruption," Lexi said with a shrug as Sherlock wound his arm around her waist again and pressed his chest to her back, resting his chin on top of her head.

"He had a lovely manner," Vicky said, finishing her thought and Sherlock looked away from her, glancing down at Lexi who was looking up at him as he hands rested a top his.

"Superficial charm, he knew what to say and how to act," Lexi commented and Sherlock nodded slightly in agreement with her deduction of the man.

"Different names, different addresses," Sherlock remarked and he turned slightly and looked at Gail. "Describe him."

"Short blond hair," Gail told them.

"Dark hair – long," Charlotte said next.

"Ginger," Robyn shrugged. "I like gingers."

"Couldn't tell," Vicky said and Sherlock gave her a querying look as Lexi raised her eyebrow questioningly. "He had a mask on," Vicky said in a laid-back way, signifying that it was nothing unusual. Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes as Sherlock looked away.

"Kinky. Well, either different men or he was a master of disguise," Lexi remarked and Sherlock hummed, kissing the top of her head, getting a sudden idea before he moved them so that they were standing at the side of the Chairman's bench together. Sherlock held a newspaper in front of him and quickly turned the pages until he reached the Obituaries page.

"He's stealing the identity of corpses ...," Sherlock told Lexi as he worked through a different newspaper to its Obituaries page and showed it to Lexi. He zoomed in on a message announcing the death of a Michael James Heaney. "...getting the names from the Obituary columns," Sherlock continued as he picked up another newspaper from the pile beside him and turned to the relevant page. "All single men. He's using the dead man's flat under the assumption it'll be empty for a while," Sherlock said and he raised his head and flicked his gaze over to Lexi.

"And he makes himself look enough like the men who died why? Is that even relevant?" Lexi asked Sherlock and she shook her head before frowning slightly. "Maybe? I don't know anymore," Lexi said and Sherlock kissed the side of her head comfortingly and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she sighed.

"Free love nest," Sherlock said as he looked back up at the woman.

"I feel sick," Gail said looking down, appalled.

"It's gruesome," Robyn said in disgust.

"That's awful," Charlotte said and Lexi nodded slightly.

"Clever!" Vicky said looking impressed and Lexi hummed, frowning slightly and the woman.

"Bastard!" Tessa said suddenly and Sherlock and Lexi who were now standing in front of the women again turned their heads to see that Tessa was now standing between Charlotte and Robyn.

"Oh hello Tessa," Lexi said as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Lexi again.

In 221B, Sherlock's head turned at a beep from another laptop lying on one of the dining chairs. He walked across to it, where Tessa's message on the forum read, "TESSA: BASTARD!" He typed onto that computer just as Lexi's message came though as she already had the forum thread up in a separate window. Sherlock's message appeared reading, "SHERLOCK: Hello Tessa". In the Council Chamber, Sherlock greeted her. She was wearing casual clothes and a long cardigan, not her nurse's outfit.

"Hello, Tessa," Sherlock said and Tessa looked at him angrily, still not happy after what happened the night before.

"Thanks for answering my message," Lexi told the woman and Tessa nodded at her, Sherlock feeling slightly confused before he realized that Lexi contacted her so that they could talk to her again now that they were both sober.

"Meanwhile, back to business. No-one wants to use a dead man's home," Sherlock said, changing the subject and Vicky shrugged as if she wasn't bothered by it and Sherlock threw her a disapproving look. "...Least not until it's been cleared. So, he disguises himself as Lexi said, steals the man's home, steals his identity," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed slightly.

"But only for one night," John said suddenly beside them in the chamber again and Sherlock and Lexi both turned and looked at him. "Then he's gone," John continued as he watched the two of them.

"He's not a ghost, John. He's a mayfly. He lives for a day," Sherlock told the army doctor as Lexi hugged his arms closer to her.

"Because he can only live for a day. But why? He's not getting off with any of the women he meets so…," Lexi said, trailing off thoughtfully as she and Sherlock turned back to the women and John left them again.

"…what was it he was looking for?" Sherlock finished for her before he turned his head to Gail. "Job."

"Gardener," Gail said and now she was wearing a pale jumper and overalls.

"Cook," Charlotte told them and now she was wearing a cook's jacket and hat.

"Private nurse," Tessa told them, now back in her uniform and Lexi nodded as if this confirmed one of her deductions.

"I do security work," Robyn told them and she was now wearing a security officer's uniform.

"Maid," Vicky said, now also wearing the appropriate outfit for her job. Sherlock looked down for a brief moment, and then raised his head as Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"Obvious. You all work for the same person!" Sherlock said as Lexi hummed and opened her eyes.

"Maybe and maybe not," Lexi said as in 221B, Sherlock moved from laptop to laptop, typing onto each one as Lexi rapidly typed on her laptop, quickly moving between her open tabs. In the Council Chamber, she opened her eyes as the information rapidly scrolled across the face of each of the women in turn. Their research went on for some time but finally, in the Council Chamber, Sherlock sighed. "No, not the same employer. Damn," Sherlock said, screwing his eyes closed before he turned to Lexi.

"Not so obvious then. What did I see t night?" Lexi muttered, looking away before she looked back at Sherlock with a thoughtful frown, her nose wrinkled up in an adorable way.

"Come on. We can do this," Sherlock told Lexi as he opened his eyes and he would never tire of seeing the bright smile she sent him.

"Together," Lexi agreed and the both turned and looked towards Gail

"Ideal night out," Sherlock said next, knowing that there had to be some common dominator in the entire equation. There always was. They just had to find it.

"Clay pigeon shooting," Gail told them as Lexi frowned as if she was trying to remember something.

"Line dancing," Charlotte said and Lexi shook her head and came back to the present discussion.

"Pictures?" Tessa shrugged.

"Wine in front of the telly," Robyn smiled as Lexi looked slyly at Sherlock.

"Dungeon," Vicky said smiling quirkily at him and Sherlock shook his head in disbelief as Lexi growled under her breath before turning back to Sherlock.

"Anything with you which means crime scene!" Lexi told him and Sherlock quirked his eyebrow at her questioningly as they weren't here to find out about what she liked though he was happy to find that it was him that made her happy. "What? If we have to do this I might as well get to add my input," Lexi told him and Sherlock smirked at her and turned his head to the front and shut his eyes for a moment before he turned back to her and kissed the side of her head before they btoh turned to Gail again.

"Make-up," Sherlock said next.

"Clarins," Gail told him.

"No. 7," Charlotte said next.

"Maybelline," Tessa told the two detectives.

"Nothing special," Robyn said with a shrug.

"Whatever's cheap," Vicky told them and Sherlock turned to Lexi as she grinned up at him and he nodded at her.

"Well, since I've moved into the flat I've only worn makeup on the few occasions I've gone out with you. Not sure exactly what brand though. Anthea buys it for me," Lexi said and Sherlock chuckled slightly. This is what he loved about Lexi he also was surprised by her admission. She only wore makeup for him before.

"Perfume," Sherlock said next as he looked back at Gail and all of the women were watching him and Lexi with soft, knowing expressions.

"Chanel," Gail answered.

"Chanel," Both Charlotte and Tessa answered as well and Sherlock's face lit up with hope as he turned to Robyn.

"Chanel," Robyn told him and Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Estée Lauder," Vicky said and Lexi frowned as Sherlock shook his head disappointedly at her. He looked at Lexi next and nodded at her.

"All natural. I've noticed you seem to like the lavender, ylang-ylang, and apple blossoms," Lexi told him and Sherlock hummed in agreement and made a point of nuzzling is face into her hair and breathing in deeply, a smile on his lips. He straightened before he looked directly at Tessa.

"Ideal man?" Sherlock asked Tessa as he wrapped his arms around Lexi's waist and pulled her back tightly to his chest.

"You," Lexi whispered up at him as she leaned back to look up at him and Sherlock kissed her forehead affectionately as Tessa looked off into the distance with a whimsical smile

"George Clooney?" Tessa asked us and she grinned at the two detectives. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh, no," Sherlock told her, slightly exasperated by her ordinary answer.

"Home-loving," Gail answered and Lexi looked up at Sherlock.

"Found that," She said with a fond smile.

"He'd have to like cuddling," Charlotte said and Lexi nodded and he smile grew wider.

"Definitely found that. You love a cuddle," Lexi giggled and Sherlock smirked down at her.

"Caring," Robyn said and Lexi reached up and rubbed his cheekbone with her thumb.

"Hmmm well, you are definitely that," Lexi said before she kissed Sherlock gently.

"Ten things," Vicky said, drawing their attention away and Sherlock growled slightly as Lexi groaned and they broke apart as Vicky held up her thumb. "One, someone who isn't competitive with other men," Vicky started and Sherlock frowned at her, looking aghast.

"Well, you've failed that one love. I think it's sweet though," Lexi told him with a little laugh as Vicky held up her forefinger.

"Two, someone who isn't constantly trying to define himself by his masculinity ...," Vicky continued and Sherlock held up his hand to her and she froze.

"That is far too long of a list than I have an attention span for and we really can't be bothered," Lexi said as Sherlock closed his fingers and thumb together and there was a beep from a computer. Sherlock looked up above the women.

"There's a unifying factor. There has to be," Sherlock said as he lowered his hand and frowned. "None of you reported anything stolen," Sherlock said in interest as he looked down, then raised his eyes and pointed at the women one by one but this time not going straight round the semi-circle, working in the order in which the 'ghost' dated the women. "Security guard, gardener, cook, maid, private nurse. He's romancing his way up a pecking order, somebody's pecking order," Sherlock said and Lexi frowned, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Not his own…?" Lexi said and Sherlock closed his eye.

"Come on, think," Sherlock told himself sternly and Lexi turned in his arms and reached up and cupped his cheeks.

"Calm down love," Lexi told him before she kissed his lips lightly and then pressed her forehead against his. He breathed in her scent deeply which calmed him significantly and he opened his eyes again, kissing her forehead before holding her closely to him again.

"Unless ...," Sherlock said, suddenly getting an idea as he looked down at Lexi and his mouth twitched up in a small, brief smile as he turned to Gail. "Do you have a secret you've never told anyone?" Sherlock asked the woman and Lexi raised her eyebrow, smiling brightly.

"No," All five women said simultaneously and Sherlock and Lexi both grinned widely.

"Gotcha," The two detectives said in unison.

"What d'you mean?" John asked them, suddenly appearing at their side again.

"Everyone has secrets, and they all replied too quickly," Sherlock explained to John and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"Which means that they have something to hide," Lexi told the army doctor as she studied all of the women.

"Gotta go," Gail said looking anxious and she walked away, and there was a brief electronic sound of her logging off in the real world.

"See ya," Charlotte said and she too turned and left as well as logged off.

"No!" Sherlock shouted in frustration as the women left.

"Bye-bye," Robyn said and she also logged off and left the room.

"Wait!" Sherlock shouted quickly as Lexi narrowed her eyes as if she expected this.

"Sorry, sexy," Vicky said and she winked at him.

"My husband," Lexi reminded the woman and Sherlock smirked at how possessive she was being. Vicky just shrugged at her as if she wasn't bothered by this fact at all.

"Some secrets have to stay secret," Vicky continued before she walked away and logged off.

"Enjoy the wedding," Tessa said, smiling at the two detectives and Sherlock made an exasperated sound as she walked away/logged off.

In 221B, Sherlock shut down the lid on Tessa's laptop and straightened up as Lexi put her laptop down on the couch cushion beside her. "Why? Why would he date all of those women and not return their calls?" Sherlock asked John and Lexi in frustration as Lexi stood up from the couch and stretched. Sherlock caught sight of the bare expanse of skin that was exposed when her shirt lifted slightly and he groaned internally. She had been driving him crazy over the last few days but they hadn't found anytime to be together in any way with the wedding coming up and planning John's stag nigh and people kept interrupting them just as they started kissing.

"You're missing the obvious, mate," John said and Sherlock got interrupted from his own inner musings.

"Am I?" Sherlock asked as he turned to him.

"He's a man," John pointed out as Lexi padded into the kitchen in search of more tea most likely.

"But why would he change his identity?" Sherlock asked slamming the lids down on each of the laptops by turn.

"Maybe he's married," John pointed out and Sherlock slowly straightened up as if realising something.

"Ohh," Sherlock said as Lexi popped her head back into the living room.

"I knew there was a reason who I loved you John," Lexi said with a bright grin before she went and tackled Sherlock, pushing him back into their chair, the two of them throwing their heads back and laughing brightly as John smiled down at the two consulting detectives.

**Lexi's POV **

**Reception**

"Married. Obvious, really. Our Mayfly Man was trying to escape the suffocating chains of domesticity..." Sherlock said and I snorted slightly as John grimaced and shook his head while Mary widened her eyes briefly and then smiled at him. "...and instead of endless nights in watching the telly or going to barbecues with awful dreadful boring people he couldn't stand, he used his wits, cleverness and powers of disguise ...," Sherlock said before he finally took a breath, and smiled slightly... to play the field. He was ...," Sherlock continued before he stopped when he realized that he had lost his audience again. The guests looked silently back at him and he looked down to our right to see John looking back at him straight-faced and Mary wrinkling her nose and shaking her head slightly.

"Sweetie, rethink that a bit before you speak again," I told him before I reached up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. Sometimes he got just a little bit carried away.

"Lexi's right as always. On second thoughts I probably should have told you about the Elephant in the Room. However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that's what made me special – quite frankly, I still do. Lexi however ends up doing both. She can read a crime scene and people far better than the two of us somehow. But a word to the wise, should any of you require the services of the three of us, Lexi and I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson and Lexi to save your life. Trust me on that – I should know. They've saved mine so many times, and in so many ways. Lexi has from the very beginning done a bit of both and without her I think John and I would have failed in many of our endeavours," Sherlock said and John nodded in agreement. "She's certainly saved John and I enough times," Sherlock said before he held up his phone. "This blog is the story of three friends and their frankly ridiculous adventures ...," Sherlock said and he smiled as I looked at him and John fondly and the guests all chuckled as I felt a lump form in my throat. "...of murder, mystery and mayhem," Sherlock continued before he looked down at me and chuckled. "There's even lots of ridiculous moments when Lexi used her shoes as projectiles or fought Chinese assassins," Sherlock said and the rest of the guests chuckled as I smacked him on the arm and smiled, laughing slightly as he kissed the top of my head. He was trying to cheer me up slightly since he caught me getting emotional. "But from now on, there's a new story – a bigger adventure," Sherlock said and he looked down at me. "And one that I am glad to say that I am able to embark upon as well," Sherlock continued before we both looked down at the other newlyweds who smiled happily up at us. "Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be upstanding," Sherlock told the guests as Sherlock and I picked up our glasses and the guests did likewise and stood up while the photographer walked forward with his camera. "Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson," Sherlock said, raising his glass and John sighed a little, while Mary giggled. I looked at John and shook my head with a fond smile on my face. "And as hardly anyone knew of mine and Lexi's nuptials today, the two reasons why every single one of us is ...," Sherlock said before he stopped, freezing in place and staring blindly towards the guests. I stopped and blinked slowly as I finally realized what it was that we had been missing, that I had been missing. The photographer snapped several photos of us but the popping flashbulb didn't make either of us react. Sherlock and my fingers loosened slightly in surprise and our champagne glassed slipped out of our fingers and began a very slow-motion tumble towards the floor.

In the Council Chamber, Sherlock and I, now in our wedding gear, lowered our raised hands and turned towards the five uniformed women.

"What did you say?" Sherlock asked as he pointed at Tessa. "You said, "John Hamish Watson." You said that. You said, "Hamish,"" Sherlock said as we walked slowly towards her.

"That's it. That's what I noticed. You said, "These are the famous detectives. It's Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna and their partner, John Hamish Watson. Couse I was too drunk to notice it at the time," I said with a frown as I tilted my head to the side thoughtfully.

"How did you know? How did you know his middle name?" Sherlock demanded as we circled around Tessa in the Council Chamber in opposite directions before we walked backwards, still facing her. "He never tells anyone. Wouldn't even tell Lexi and he loves her. He hates it."

**Third Person POV**

**FLASHBACK**

_Sherlock, with at least ten unlit cigarettes stuffed in his mouth, walked across the living room of 221B and walked past John, who was sitting at the dining table facing the windows and typing on his laptop._

_"I'll act as if I haven't seen that," Lexi whispered as she came up from behind him and Sherlock frowned down at the screen and took the cigarettes out of his mouth. He turned his back on John as he walked into his line of sight so that John couldn't see the cigarettes, happy that Lexi wasn't going to nag him about them. They had just started dating so he half expected her to start arguing with him about things like smoking, but she just let him carry on with whatever he decided to do. She leaned up and kissed him humming slightly as he looked down at her, her nose wrinkling a bit. "You taste a bit like nicotine," She told him and he sent her an apologetic look. _

_"Sorry," He apologized, kissing the top of her head before he looked back over at the army doctor. ""John H. Watson"?" Sherlock said, reciting what he had just seen at the top of John's blog page as Lexi wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly from behind. _

_"Yep," John said glancing briefly round at him and Lexi. _

_"What's the 'H' for?" Lexi asked him but John ignored her. Lexi shrugged and as he continued to type, she and Sherlock sat down on the sofa. Sherlock stuffed the cigarettes into a Persian slipper while keeping a wary eye on John in case he looked round. He tapped the cigarettes down, then lied down on the sofa, taking Lexi down with him and shoved the slipper underneath it. Lexi laid out on her side beside him and snuggled back against his chest, sighing in contentment as Sherlock buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply. "Fine, be that way," Lexi finally told John and he looked over at her and Sherlock and eyed their position on the couch in suspicion as they hadn't really told John that they were officially dating yet. "We'll just have to figure it out ourselves," Lexi said before she flicked on the TV and put Doctor Who on for her and Sherlock to watch. _

**_ANOTHER DAY_**

_The boys were sitting at the kitchen table and John was reading the paper as Lexi flipped some pancakes at the stove, humming La Habanera under her breath. _

_"Henry?" Sherlock asked suddenly as Lexi turned around with a plate of banana pancakes and set them down in front of John. _

_"Harold?" Lexi asked as she looked him over for any reaction to the name. _

_"Shut up," John told the two detectives without looking up and Sherlock bit into a piece of toast as Lexi rolled her eyes and then went back to cooking, carding her fingers through Sherlock's hair once before she walked away and he looked back at her as John looked up from him paper curiously. _

**_ANOTHER DAY_**

_Sherlock looked up from his microscope at the kitchen table and turned his head to where John was sitting in his armchair reading. _

_"Humphrey?" Sherlock asked and suddenly out of nowhere Lexi suddenly popped into the room, scaring both boys who hadn't heard her on the stairs._

_"Hugh?" Lexi asked as she walked into the living room with a few bags in her hands and a smile on her face. She had just come back from shopping with the girls and they had just gotten used to the unsettling quiet. _

_"Shut up," Sherlock told the both firmly and Lexi snorted as she pulled of her coat and scarf and hung them up behind the door. _

_"Did you find what you were looking for?" John asked Lexi and she grinned back at him. _

_"Yup," She said, popping the 'P' sound in the word before she bent over and pulled out a few shirts for him and a red dressing gown for Sherlock. "Found some stuff for you two too," She said and she grinned at the both of them before collecting her bounty and skipping back to her room as Sherlock watched her leave. _

**_ANOTHER DAY_**

_Buttoning his jacket, Sherlock walked out of his bedroom and stopped outside the door to the bathroom. The shower was running inside. _

_"Higgins?" Sherlock called loudly as Lexi stepped out of her bedroom, fixing the straps to her dress which caught Sherlock's eye. _

_"Hiddleson?" Lexi called loudly as she brushed Sherlock's suit down and then nodded once at him. _

_"Go. Away," John shouted loudly at the two of them from the inside of the bathroom. Sherlock grimaced and then walked on, taking Lexi with him. She kissed his cheek before she went and sat on her laptop, instantly starting to type away on it quickly. _

**THE PRESENT. COUNCIL CHAMBER. **

**Lexi's POV**

"Took him years to confide in us," Sherlock said and I frowned slightly and looked at him, tilting my head to the side.

"Not exactly sweetie," I told him, remembering exactly how we found out about his middle name in the first place or more like how he asked me how to find out what his middle name was.

**FLASHBACK.**

_John walked up the stairs of 221 carrying bags of shopping. Sighing tiredly, he walked into the living room where Sherlock was standing just to the left of the door with a piece of paper in his hands. Lexi was sitting on the couch reading some files with her glasses on. John glanced at the paper in Sherlock's hands as he walked past and then he stopped and backed up. _

_"That's my birth certificate," John said in surprise. _

_"Yep," Sherlock said and he loudly popped the 'p' in the word and walked away. John stared after him._

_"How did you get that?" John asked Sherlock as the army doctor followed after him._

_"That was me, sorry," Lexi said as she set down her files and took her glasses off and John looked over at her. "I never said I wasn't going to use hacking to figure it out," Lexi told him with a slight smirk and John shook his head at her in exasperation before he turned and walked away. _

**THE PRESENT. COUNCIL CHAMBER.**

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock looked quizzically at Tessa, then turned and walked towards the Chairman's bench with me as he held me hand in his own, rubbing his thumb along my knuckles.

"And The Woman – she knew," Sherlock said and I glared slight and let out a huff. I hated that woman with a passion but I was here and I was the one married to Sherlock and she wasn't. In the end, he was mine and I was his.

**FLASHBACK**

**Third Person POV**

_"So who's after you?" Sherlock asked Irene, being the first to break the heavy silence in the flat._

_"People who want to kill me," Irene replied and Sherlock sighed slightly in exasperation. _

_"Who's that?" Sherlock prompted her and Irene smirked at him slightly before she answered him. _

_"Killers," She said simply as she turned to look at him for a moment and John looked over to Lexi as she snorted and Irene sneered at her as Lexi just raised her eyebrow which John knew was very dangerous for everyone in the room. _

_"It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific," John pointed out to her before Sherlock took over the questioning again. _

_"So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them," Sherlock stated and Irene nodded slightly. _

_"It worked for a while," Irene told him, flicking her gaze over to him briefly before she looked away again. _

_"Except you let John know that you were alive, and therefore me. Lexi already knew," Sherlock said and both John and Irene looked over to Lexi in surprised and she only nodded her head slightly, confirming that Sherlock was right._

_"I knew you'd keep my secret," Irene told Sherlock, looking back at him, before looking away, not meeting his eyes._

_"You couldn't," Sherlock told her and Irene looked back at him quickly. _

_"But you did, didn't you?" Irene asked Sherlock before she flicked her gaze over to Lexi who was taking a sip of her whiskey. "I'm not sure how you worked it out," Irene said before she looked between John and Sherlock, straightening up in her seat and missing the satisfied smirk on Lexi's face. "Where's my camera phone?" Irene asked expectantly. _

_"It's not here. We're not stupid," John told Irene as he put down the mug of strong coffee he had made himself. He still couldn't believe that Lexi was here and that she had been smoking or how she looked even. _

_"Then what have you done with it? If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you," Irene told them and Lexi shifted in her seat as she stood up and put her tumbler down on the coffee table as all eyes turned to her. _

_"They do know that he has it and they have been watching him, but while they've been doing that I've been watching them," Lexi said as she walked over to John's chair and leaned against it so that she was standing within a few feet from Irene who looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. John thought that she almost looked nervous, which John would be in her position. "And, as they've been watching him, they know that he took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago. Nothing happens that I don't know about these days," Lexi said and Sherlock turned his head to look at her, startled by that admission. She did not meet his gaze or even acknowledge his look as she looked down at Irene with a slight smile on her face. _

_"I need it," Irene said, ignoring Lexi as she looked back at Sherlock and John and Lexi nodded once before she walked over to the couch again and sat down, taking her glasses off in the process and holding them in one hand as she turned to look towards the window. _

_"Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?" John asked her as he looked round to Sherlock, inspired. "Molly Hooper. She could collect it, take it to Bart's; then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back," John said, working out a plan he thought even Lexi might be proud of. _

_"Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions," Sherlock complimented him, smiling. _

_"Thank you," John said as he picked up his phone. "So, why don't ... Oh, for...," John said, trailing of as he watched Sherlock take the camera phone out of his jacket pocket and hold it up. Sherlock looked at the phone closely as Irene stood up._

_"So what do you keep on here – in general, I mean?" Sherlock asked Irene curiously as Lexi turned away from the window to watch them again. She was here for one of two reasons. To see Sherlock and John so they wouldn't think she was dead and two because Mycroft wanted her to check in on his brother. _

_"Pictures, information, anything I might find useful," Irene told them as Lexi closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, having remembered what Irene thought was useful information to have on her. It was quite childish really. _

_"What, for blackmail?" John scoffed and Irene instantly corrected him. _

_"For protection. I make my way in the world; I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be," Irene told the boys, turning slightly John before she looked down at Sherlock, her arms crossed over her chest. _

_"So how do you acquire this information?" Sherlock asked Irene, missing when Lexi rolled her eyes behind him, but John caught it as he flicked his gaze over to her. _

_"I told you – I misbehave," Irene told Sherlock, smirking at him, but he was unfazed by this. In fact, most of concentration was currently on the girl behind him sitting on the couch who he nothing more than wanted to go over to her and sit down and force her to tell him what was wrong and why she was acting like this. _

_"But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?" Sherlock asked Irene who nodded slightly at him. _

_"Yes," She told him before sighing slightly. "…but I don't understand it."_

_"I assumed. Show me," Sherlock ordered her and Irene held out her hand for the phone. Sherlock held it up out of her reach. "The passcode," Sherlock told her and she continued to hold her hand out, and eventually Sherlock sat forward and handed her the phone. Activating it and holding it so he couldn't see the screen or the keypad, she typed in four characters. The phone beeped warningly._

_"It's not working," Irene told him in confusion, flicking her gaze over to him. _

_"No, because it's a duplicate that I had made, into which you've just entered the numbers one oh five eight," Sherlock said, standing up and taking the phone from her. He walked over to his chair in which she was just sitting and retrieved the real camera phone from under the cushion. "I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway," Sherlock told her as he pulled up the "I AM - LOCKED" screen and typed "1058" into the phone. He looked at her smugly but then the phone beeped warningly and a message came up reading: "WRONG PASSCODE. 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING". He stared in disbelief before he looked over to Lexi who didn't seem surprised. _

_"You knew," He said and Lexi shrugged slightly as she bounced her foot slightly from where it was crossed at the knee. _

_"It's never that simple Sherlock," Lexi told him, shaking her head slightly and Sherlock felt his heart clench as she said his name for the first time in months. _

_"I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it's in my hand," Irene told him, confirming what Lexi had just told him. _

_"Oh, you're rather good," Sherlock said as he looked straight at Lexi, who finally met his eyes, telling her this, but Irene was the one who answered him. _

_"You're not so bad," Irene said, smiling at him and Lexi looked away from Sherlock, breaking their eye contact. Irene held her hand out again and took the phone from him. John frowned at the pair of them while they stared intensely at each other for a few long seconds. _

_"Hamish," John said abruptly and all three other occupants of the flat turned to look at him. "John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names," John told them and Sherlock frowned in confusion as Lexi looked at him with a sadness and deep pain in her eyes before she looked away._

**PRESENT. COUNCIL CHAMBER. **

**Lexi's POV**

"God knows where she is," Sherlock said as we continued walking towards the front of the chamber and suddenly she was right in front of us, standing facing him, naked and looking at him intensely. I wasn't sure if it was him or me that had called her up though it was probably me because I was thinking about her so intensely. Sherlock stopped and sighed with annoyance and anger. Irene reached forward and tried to stroke his cheek but he caught her hand in a rough grasp. "Don't" Sherlock told her darkly. "The only person I want touching me is Lexi," Sherlock spat at her. "Now, Get out of my head. I am busy," Sherlock told her in exasperation and he threw her hand away from him and he turned back to the other women as Irene disappeared. I looked at him in surprise. I had seen him after we saved Irene but I had never see him like this. He turned to me suddenly and cupped my cheeks before kissing me roughly. I groaned as his tongue tangled with mine and I sighed in contentment into the kiss as I wrapped my arms around my husband's neck. After a few seconds we broke apart and I groaned again, this time in disappointment and he chuckled slightly in understanding.

"I know love," Sherlock whispered to me before he looked over at Tessa, hugging me tightly around the waist. "There's only one time that name's been made public," Sherlock said and I looked up at him. Oh, this is very not good.

**FLASHBACK.**

**Third Person POV**

_A mock-up of the wedding invitation was on the screen of Lexi's laptop as she had been the one designing them. Mary had begged her to design them because out of all of them she had the most skills on the computer and the best design skills. The top part of the invitations read:_

_Dr John Hamish WATSON & Miss Mary Elizabeth MORSTAN _

_Request the pleasure of your company at their marriage_

_John pointed at the screen over Lexi's shoulder. "Does it have to be on the invitation?" John asked her and she looked back at him and snorted, rolling her eyes in exasperation. _

_"It's your name," Mary told John as Sherlock kissed the side of Lexi's head, showing his approval of the design. "It's traditional," She told him as Sherlock simultaneously said, "It's funny._

_John looked round at Sherlock while Mary bit back a smile. "The pair of you," Lexi scolded and John looked at her, thankful for her stepping in. "John, I for one love your middle name. It's still better than mine," Lexi told him and he snorted. _

_"Elspeth is normal though," John argued with her as Mary and Sherlock watched them in amusement. They were adorable when they started fighting like siblings. _

_"It's an old Scottish name and Alexandria is old. I feel like my grandmother," Lexi complained and Sherlock chuckled. _

_"Well, you're certainly not that," Sherlock said before his kissed the top of her head and she grinned up at him, Mary and John sharing a look when the two detectives couldn't see them. _

**PRESENT. **

**Third Person POV**

Back in the reception hall Sherlock and Lexi both heard Tessa from when they had talked to her through the I DATED A GHOST website. "Enjoy the wedding." Their champagne glasses continued their ultra-slow-motion fall towards the floor.

In the Council Chamber, Tessa smiled brightly at Sherlock and Lexi.

"Enjoy the wedding," Tessa told the two detectives and Sherlock and Lexi both pointed at her as Lexi lifted her eyebrow.

"You noticed it," Lexi said as she studied Tessa narrowing her eyes slightly at her.

"The wedding. You knew about the wedding; more importantly, you'd seen a wedding invitation. Now barely a hundred people had seen that invitation. The Mayfly Man only saw five women. For one person to be in both groups ...," Sherlock said and he tilted his hand back and forth. "...could be a coincidence," Sherlock said and Lexi shook her head in disagreement.

"Oh, Sherlock," Mycroft said disapprovingly from behind them and they both turned around. Mycroft was up on the dais, standing in front of the Chairman's chair and the women had vanished. "What do we say about coincidence?" Mycroft asked the two detectives as Lexi raised her eyebrow at him.

"The universe is rarely so lazy," Sherlock and Lexi said in unison as they slowly walked towards him and Mycroft nodded as Sherlock threw a look of surprise and Lexi. She smiled at him and Sherlock smirked at her slightly before they both looked back at Mycroft.

"So, the balance of probability is ...?" Mycroft asked them as Lexi tilted her head to the side.

"Someone went to great lengths to find out something about this wedding," Sherlock said and Mycroft looked at Lexi next.

"Enough to find an invitation to the wedding but they didn't find it in our flat. I didn't leave any lying around in case clients came in. So…," Lexi said and Mycroft nodded at her slightly.

"What great lengths?" Mycroft asked them as they both stopped and Sherlock continued to stare intensely up at his brother while Lexi regarded him thoughtfully.

"They lied, assumed false identities," Sherlock said before both men looked at Lexi.

"Went out with women. Why? Looking for the right one perhaps," Lexi said and she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and wrinkled her nose.

"Which suggests ...?" Mycroft asked them, leading the conversation along.

"Criminal intent," Sherlock and Lexi said in unison.

"Also suggests ...?" Mycroft asked them.

"Intelligence, planning," Sherlock answered them as Lexi frowned suddenly.

"The Bloody Guardsman," She muttered and Sherlock frowned at her in confusion. "Test run…."

"Clearly. But more importantly ...?" Mycroft asked them as in the reception hall their champagne glasses continued their fall.

"The Mayfly Man," Sherlock muttered as he turned to Lexi in the Chamber and their champagne glasses continued downward. "The Mayfly Man is ...," Sherlock told her and her eyes widened in she swore under her breath.

**Lexi's POV**

"... here today," Sherlock said aloud at the reception as our champagne glasses smashed on the floor at our feet and we looked down at them. "Ooh, sorry. We ...," Sherlock said as he raised his head and Lexi looked up and turned to look at him.

"Assumer la position," [Assume the position] I whispered to Sherlock in French and he nodded at me slightly before he looked down at the floor, making an exasperated noise and clearing his throat. The Master of Ceremonies/Head Waiter hurried over to us.

"Another glass, sir, ma'am?" He asked us and I nodded at him.

"Thank you, yes. Thank you, yes," Sherlock told him as he took one of the glasses from him and I squeezed his hand to calm him down.

"Thanks," I told him as I took my own glass and we looked out at the guests.

"Something is going to happen – right here," Mycroft said in the Council Chamber. At the reception, Sherlock and I looked around, thinking frantically. I squeezed Sherlock's hand again, my first thought being to keep him calm and my second to figure out what was now a case. Sherlock's eyes flickered back and forth between unfocused and focused as we crossed between the Chamber and the reception but then we looked at the guests.

"Now, where were we?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as I closed my eyes.

"Could be any second," Mycroft told us in the in the Council Chamber. Back in the reception room, Mrs. Hudson and Greg look a little anxious as they held their glasses up and Greg looked at Mrs H and frowned. "You two have control of the room."

"Ah, yes. Raising glasses and standing up. Very good. Thank you," Sherlock said aloud, shaking his head a little in the reception room.

"Don't lose it," Mycroft warned us sternly, in the Council Chamber and across the room he sent us a stern look. I raised my eyebrow at him and back at the reception Sherlock raised both hands and gestured downwards.

"And down again," Sherlock told everyone and I nodded at him as he sought for my approval. Confused, the guests started to sit down, murmuring amongst themselves. Sherlock looked at them for a moment, then put his glass down on the table and straightened up as I put my glass down beside his and he tightened his grip around my waist. "Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech – get off early, leave 'em laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now ...," Sherlock said and he kissed my head before he let go of my waist and put one hand on the table and quickly jumped over to the other side. The guests gasped in surprise. "...part two." Sherlock finished before he turned back to me.

"My favourite part of this entire speech. Yup, one more coming over," I said and the guests gasped again as I pole vaulted myself over the table much like he had only I was far more impressive as I was in a dress and heels. Sherlock steadied me on the other side and took my hand in his before we started to walk into the central aisle between the tables.

"Part two is more action-based. We're gonna ... walk around, shake things up a bit," Sherlock told everyone as he kept me close to him.

"Like we did in Madrid. Of course that ended a bit badly," I remarked and Sherlock smirked at me as we looked at each person as we walked past, tagging each of the men with a sign near them reading, "MAYFLY MAN?" The only male guest who didn't get a tag was young Archie.

"Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?" Sherlock asked everyone as we made it two thirds of the way along the room and then turned around. "Well, everyone," Sherlock said and he clapped his hands once as I smirked at him.

"Obviously. Especially John and Mary's wedding," I said and Sherlock kissed the side of my head before he slipped his arm around my waist again.

"Weddings are great! Love a wedding," Sherlock said and I giggled slightly as I leaned on him.

"So do I. Love them in fact husband. Weddings are so brilliant we got married twice," I said and a few people who weren't privy to that information gasped in shock. "Nice little ceremony, just the two of us the first time but this one was a lot better. Our friends and family here and John, can't get married without John," I said as Mary leaned in towards the aforementioned army doctor.

"What are they doing?" Mary asked John quietly so as not to alarm the other guests. I closed my eyes briefly as I ran through all of the guests in my Mind Palace. Too many, too many!

"Something's wrong. Lexi's calculating," John said, watching us in concern and I looked back at him over my shoulder and tried to send him what I hoped was a reassuring look.

"And John's great, too! Haven't said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his ... jumpers ...," Sherlock said pointing towards him as we headed back along the room.

"I love to steal them…course it's a bit more difficult now. Have to break into his house which is just tedious though not entirely impossible. You might want to look into getting different locks," I told Mary and John and John closed his eyes in disbelief while Sherlock let go of me after kissing the side of my head. Out on the floor Sherlock started pacing and turning back and forth, peering at each of the male guests and their imaginary tags in turn.

"... and he can cook. Does ... a ... thing ... thing with peas ...," Sherlock said and I could see that he was stalling for time so we could figure it out. John and Mary exchanged a puzzled glance as Sherlock continued to pace and look closely at the guests. "...once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. No, it was Lexi. She always cooks. Was it peas? No, potatoes, it was potatoes. But he's got a great singing voice ... or somebody does. No, that's Lexi again. She's an excellent singer. Should definitely have her sing sometime. MMM, no, scratch that," Sherlock said and he sighed in frustration and clenched his teeth as he stopped beside me. "Ahh, too many, too many, too many, too many!" Sherlock said and he grimaced angrily.

_'Sherlock look at me, focus on me'_ I told Sherlock, cupping his face in my hands and turning him to look at me.

_'I can't do this,'_ Sherlock told me and I kissed his forehead before pulling back at making him look right at me.

_'Yes you can. I'm right here. Now, focus on me. Push everything else out. Take it one person at a time,'_ I told Sherlock as I slid my hands down his arms and grasped his hands in mine. He nodded once and then slipped his arms around my waist. He nodded and took a deep breath.

**Third Person POV**

"Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er ...," Sherlock said while inside his and Lexi's heads the two detectives found themselves back in the Council Chamber together, slowly walking towards Mycroft, staring up at him.

"Criminal intent," Mycroft reminded them as they locked eyes across the reception hall.

"Where were we? Ah, yes ..." Sherlock told the guests while Mycroft reminded them again in the Council Chamber.

"Extraordinary lengths," Mycroft told them as Lexi looked at the real Mycroft in the reception room and flicked her gaze over to Mummy and Papa Holmes. He nodded his head ever so slightly and Lexi was grateful that he knew how to read her so well.

"Speech!" Sherlock announced in the reception room and he pointed towards the top table, grinning round at the guests. "Speech," Sherlock repeated and he clapped his hands together again.  
>Let's talk about ...," Sherlock said as he and Lexi turned and looked at each other.<p>

"All of which is suggestive of ...?" Mycroft asked them again in the Council Chamber and in the Chamber, Sherlock and Lexi's eyes widened in surprise and they pressed their lips together to begin forming the word.

"...murder," Sherlock and Lexi said in unison in the reception room and John sighed and lowered his head, while Mary frowned.

"Sorry, did we say 'murder'? We meant to say 'marriage' – but, you know, they're quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it's over when one of them's dead," Sherlock said and he emphatically sounded the'd' at the end of the word. Again John sighed and lowered his head. "In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though," Sherlock said and Lexi giggled at that and kissed the side of his mouth. "Though I find that I quite like marriage," Sherlock told the guests and he kissed the side of Lexi's head as he pulled her to his side tightly. "Janine!" Sherlock said suddenly and she looks up at the detectives a little wide-eyed.

"Yes you, hello. It's nice to have someone else who is Irish at this wedding," Lexi told Janine and she grinned at her as Sherlock rolled his eyes. Lexi snorted in amusement and kissed his cheek.

"What about this one?" Sherlock asked Janine as the two detectives walked over to stand behind one of the male guests. "Acceptably hot?" Sherlock asked her and he grinned at her then looked at the woman sitting beside the man. "More importantly, his girlfriend's wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear ...," Sherlock said and Lexi looked over the top part of the woman's dress, where the seam of her ill-fitting bra, or whatever she was wearing underneath, was visible through the material; then Lexi looked across to a thread on the man's jacket "...and hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket ...," Sherlock continued as Lexi looked at the smudge on the man's neck "...or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone," Sherlock said as Sherlock slipped Lexi's mobile into her hand and him and her both rapidly typed onto their phones with their thumbs behind their backs. "Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek. They're always tremendously grateful – really put the hours in," Sherlock chuckled, causing enough of a distraction that no one even noticed when Mycroft got up and managed to get Mummy and Papa Holmes out of the hall like Lexi asked him too. "Geoff, the gents," Sherlock said as we both looked across to Greg and Sherlock jerked his head towards the door. "The loos, now, please."

"It's Greg," Lestrade corrected him irritatedly.

"The loos, please," Sherlock told him again and Lexi gave Greg a very pointed look and nudged her head towards the door as Greg's phone beeped two text alerts.

"Why?" Lestrade asked as he reached into his pocket.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's your turn," Sherlock told him and he jerked his head towards the door again, grimacing. Greg looked at his phone and the new text messaged which read:

**_Lock this place down._**

**_There's going to be a murder-L_**

"Yeah, actually, now you mention it ...," Lestrade said and he stood up as Lexi slid her phone back over to Sherlock and Sherlock pocketed the both of them. The one thing wedding dresses didn't have, pockets. They really needed pockets.

"Sherlock, Lexi, any chance of a – an end date for this speech? I've still gotta give mine and we've gotta cut the cake," John said and while Greg headed out of the door, Sherlock smiled widely and the two detectives danced down the aisle together as Lexi laughed brightly and hung onto him when they stopped suddenly.

"Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when we finally get the chance to speak for once," Sherlock said before the two detectives looked directly at John.

"Vatican Cameos," They said in unison, saying them in a conversational way as if they were a natural part of the sentence. John straightened up in his chair and Lexi nodded at him slightly, just enough for him to get the hint.

"Merde," Joanna swore before Lexi saw her reach under the table. Lexi looked away from her grinning slightly. Only Joanna would hide a gun under the table.

"What did they say? What's that mean?" Mary asked John as Lexi turned her head to look at them and tried to send John a look to let him know what was going on. Unfortunately he was never as good at reading her expressions as Sherlock was.

"Battle stations. Someone's gonna die," John told Mary quietly, tugging the bottom of his waistcoat down.

"What!?" Mary asked in shock and Joanna put a hand on her arm as John put his hand over Mary's, silently shushing her. Joanna looked at Lexi and then jerked her head towards Sherlock to let her know to take care of things. Lexi nodded once at her, enough for her to know that she understood, but not enough to alert anyone else.

"Relax, Lexi already has Mycroft in the hall, their parents are already safe, Greg is closing the place off, and Sherlock and Lexi are already on the case and figuring it out. Give them a few minutes," Joanna told them and Lexi smiled slightly as she turned back to Sherlock, touched by Joanna's confidence in them. Sherlock and Lexi turned to look at the guests, and they tagged all the men with the "MAYFLY MAN?" question again.

**Lexi's POV**

"Narrow it down," Mycroft told us in the Council Chamber. At the reception, Sherlock grimaced, his eyes screwed tightly shut. "Narrow it down," Mycroft told us again and Sherlock blinked in the reception room, lowering his head and screwing his eyes shut again. "Narrow. It. Down," Mycroft repeated slowly in the Council Chamber and I looked up at him, my hand tightly holding Sherlock's and I glared up at him. Standing in front of him in the Chamber, Sherlock roared loudly with frustration and rage and slapped himself hard on the right cheek. In the reception room, he did the same.

"Shut up Mycroft," I yelled up at him while in the reception room I simply yelled shut up and then turned towards Sherlock as he loudly and angrily shouted "No!" and slapped his left cheek.

"No!" Sherlock shouted again loudly and angrily, in the reception room and I grabbed his hands and held them in mine before he could slap himself again. By now the guests were whispering amongst themselves and watching us closely. I shoved them all out and focused entirely upon Sherlock. Right now, he was the only person that mattered to me.

"Love, me, focus on me. Now, who do we know it can't be? We made files on every single wedding guest. We knew who was coming to the wedding so, how do we narrow it down?" I asked him as we turned around and some of the tags disappeared from above the men's heads. Sherlock angrily pointed upwards with the index fingers of both hands but the tension in his shoulders was slightly softened.

"Not you! Not you!" Sherlock said loudly and the mental image of Mycroft disappeared. Sherlock slipped his hand into mine again and took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing completely. He kissed the side of my head as he calmed down and lowered his hand a little to point his fingers towards the top table. "You," Sherlock said quieter and John straightened again, looking back at us. "It's always you. John Watson, you keep us right," Sherlock said as we walked towards him, Sherlock now pointing at him with just one hand.

"You always have," I told John and he stood as we walked up to the table. "You've always managed to keep us right."

"What do I do?" John asked us and I smiled at him. That was John, always wanting to know how he could help us and he always did simply by being there with us.

"Well, you've already done it. Don't solve the murder," Sherlock told John and I smiled at Sherlock as I turned to him, recognizing the lines as something I had once said. "Save the life," Sherlock finished intensely and I looked at John encouragingly.

"You once saved mine because you didn't let me down. You can do the same now," I told our army doctor and he nodded at me. John hadn't let me down, he kept calling me once and it ended up saving my life. Sherlock drew in a sharp breath through his nose before we turned towards the guests again with manic grins on our faces.

"Sorry. Off-piste a bit. Back now," Sherlock said his voice going slightly high pitched as I knew where this was going and I rather liked it too. "Phew!" Sherlock said and he clapped his hands together and looked down at the floor.

"We tend to get a bit carried away sometimes but that's just us, we are brilliant you know," I said and Sherlock smirked at me as John sighed behind us in exasperation. "Back on the subject though…," I said nodding at Sherlock and we both looked at each other with a manic grin.

"Let's play a game," Sherlock started and we raised our eyes while lowering our heads a little more, staring intensely out into the room.

"Let's play Murder," Sherlock and I said in unison and behind us, John sat down again. Sherlock prowled forward as I walked beside him, his eyes flickering around the room at the guests as I looked at each of them in turn, studying them all. This was what we did. Mary was right we would even miss our own wedding for a murder, this time the murder came to us.

"Sherlock, Lexi," Mrs. Hudson scolded us disapprovingly

"Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding," Sherlock said, steepling his hands in front of his chin as we progressed forward. I smiled at him, loving when he got that look on his face. "Who exactly would you pick?" Sherlock asked as I adopted my own thinking pose, steepling my index fingers across my lips in a shush gesture.

"The bride and groom? A guest? They're all perfect targets," I suggested and Sherlock hummed in agreement, lowering his hands and wrapping them around my waist. I lowered my hands instantly and put them over his, smiling at him as he rested his chin on top of my head, still studying all of the guests with the utmost scrutiny.

"I think you two are a popular choice at the moment, dears," Mrs. Hudson told us and I snorted at her and rolled my eyes slightly. We were making a point here, honestly. There was always some level of Q and A in all of this.

"If someone could move Mrs. Hudson's glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely," Sherlock said as he gestured behind us. "More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding?" Sherlock asked and he looked down at me. I frowned slightly and raised my eyebrow. Sherlock and I turned back to look at the guests and I knew that he, like me was giving both the men and women a new tag reading, "TARGET?" A line lead from each tag down to the relevant person and at the end of that line a small white bull's eye overlaid their body.

"There are certain people who you can be assured won't miss a wedding, like us," I said and Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully and hummed slightly in my ear, kissing the side of my head before he looked up at everyone else again.

"Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, Lexi and I've often planned the murder of friends and colleagues," Sherlock said, rubbing his hands together in an Evil Genius sort of way in front of me before he grabbed my hand and we walked back along the room together, Sherlock gestured to John as I grinned at him almost manically. "Now John we'd poison," Sherlock said and I hummed in agreement with a slight nod as Mary nervously looked across to her husband. "Sloppy eater – dead easy."

"That and he never questions anything that I cook for him," I added and Sherlock smirked at me as John looked at me with a slight look of shock. I shrugged at him, it was a nice mental exercise. The only rule is that Sherlock and I couldn't plan each other's deaths and that was fine because we didn't even want to contemplate that.

"We've given him chemicals and compounds – that way, he's never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn't have a clue. Lestrade's so easy to kill, it's a miracle no-one's succumbed to the temptation," Sherlock said and I nodded and pursed my lips slightly.

"Habits, we all fall into them, certain patterns, those make it easier to kill us. Follow the patterns. The morning coffee break, afternoon cigarette outside so no one can see, perfect times to plan a murder," I added in before we turned and headed towards the back for the room again, each time we paced the length of the room spent studying each and every face.

"I've got a pair of keys to my brother's house – I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him," Sherlock said and Joanna raised an eyebrow at us. Sherlock made a few strange gestures with his hands, before he noticed Joanna's expression and realized that he may have gone too far. "...if, if the whim arose."

"Which it hasn't even on the days he is really pissing us off," I assured Joanna and she made an mmm hmm sound.

"Yeah well, just remember, fiancée of said brother who also lives with him and I sleep with one eye open," Joanna warned us and a few of the guest chuckled nervously, unsure if we were joking or not.

"Duly noted," Sherlock told her and I nodded in affirmation. She settled back in her set, crossing her legs at her knees and her arms across her chest as she pursed her lips.

"They're pissed, aren't they?" I heard Tom ask Molly quietly and I turned just in time to watch Molly stab a plastic fork into the back of his head without even looking round at him. "Ow!" Tom said loudly as he grabbed his hand in pain.

"So, once again, who could you only kill here?" Sherlock asked as we turned and faced the guests again. A few chairs nearest us were empty but they still has their "TARGET?" tag pointing to the seats. Sherlock twirled his fingers and the tags disappeared for the both of us.

"Most of you could be killed any old place and at any old time if someone wanted to kill you but not one of you. No, one of you could only be killed here," I said as Sherlock pulled me closer to his side and tucked my head under his chin again.

"Clearly it's a rare opportunity, so it's someone who doesn't get out much," Sherlock said as more guests and their tags vanished as we narrowed it down. "Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advance is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity," Sherlock continued and we turned around together and more of the guests had gone. "And since killing someone in public is difficult ...," Sherlock said and we turned again and even more of the guests had disappeared. "...killing them in private isn't an option. Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then," Sherlock said and we turned once more and all the visible seats were now empty. "Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security," Sherlock finished and one final "TARGET?" tag drifted into view as we walked forward. It was pointing at the only person left in the room and we turned to face him, Major Sholto. "Possibly someone under threat," Sherlock said and the question mark beside the word in the tag disappeared, and then the word itself faded out. The bull's eye we superimposed over Sholto's body flashed red for a moment and then also disappeared. As if sensing Sherlock's gaze, Sholto turned and looked at us and we stared back at him.

"Someone who despite feeling uncomfortable being here would never miss John's wedding because they, like us, would never let John Watson down," I added and Sherlock hummed beside me as Sholto nodded at me ever so slightly.

**FLASHBACK. 221B LIVING ROOM. **

**Third Person POV**

_"Major James Sholto. Who he?" Sherlock asked Mary as Lexi frowned slightly as she looked at a paper not related to the wedding, something that Joanna had sent her the day before. _

_"Oh, John's old commanding officer. I don't think he's coming," Mary answered Sherlock and John shook his head slightly. _

_"He'll be there," John told Mary and she looked back at him over his shoulder slightly. _

_"Well, he needs to RSVP, then," Mary told him as Lexi looked up from her file and then put it down on the dining table beside Sherlock. _

_"He'll be there," John repeated firmly and Mary hummed sceptically but Lexi shot him a knowing look and a grin and nodded, silently telling him that she agreed with him._

**FLASHBACK. EARLIER AT THE RECEPTION. **

_"Civilian life suiting you, then?" Sholto asked him conversationally as he looked around the reception room again._

_"Er, er, yes, well ...," John said as he gestured towards Mary with a smile as John saw Lexi laugh at something, Sherlock chuckling beside her as Lexi made a face. "...I think so, sir."_

_"No more need for the trick cyclist?" Sholto asked him curiously._

_"No, I-I go now and then. Sort of a top-up," John told him slowly and Sholto nodded. "Therapy can be very helpful," John continued nodding as he looked down at his feet briefly and then back up and Sholto looked away from him. "Where are you living these days?" John asked Sholto, changing the subject._

_"Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't know it," Sholto told him as he looked back at the shorter man and gave the hint of a smile._

**FLASHBACK. ON THE PARK BENCH OUTSIDE THE BARRACKS. **

_"He was decorated, wasn't he? A war hero," Sherlock asked John who caught on to the fact that Sherlock was trying to get off of the topic that was starting to go into Mycroft and Joanna's sex life. _

_"Not to everyone. He led a team of crows into battle," John told them and Lexi listened to him interestedly._

_"So that is what it is. I did wonder," Lexi commented and John's eyes widened slightly in surprise as her comment suggested that she knew who Sholto was or at least had looked him up which that part wasn't so surprising. _

_ "Crows"?" Sherlock asked John, unfamiliar with the term. _

_"New recruits. It's standard procedure; break the new boys in – but it went wrong. They all died; he was the only survivor. The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you two," John told them and Lexi snorted slightly ad Sherlock shrugged. _

_"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," Sherlock told John as he looked back at Lexi and raised his eyebrow questioningly. _

_"Fifty three death threats in the last sixty seven days. I made a list, Joanna has a file," Lexi said and John looked at her in shock._

**END OF FLASHBACK **

At the reception, everyone was back in the room. Sherlock tried to act nonchalantly as he and Lexi walked over to a nearby table and he picked up one of the name cards on it while pulling a pen on a chain from his waistcoat, a little invention from Lexi because you never knew when you would need a pen.

"Ooh! A recluse, small household staff," Sherlock said as Lexi leaned in closely to him.

"Same employer, you were right," Lexi whispered in his ear, he lips brushing the top of his ear, and Sherlock turned slightly towards her and raised his eyebrow, knowing she was doing it on purpose. She smirked at him mischievously and Sherlock couldn't contained his own smirk.

**FLASHBACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER. **

_"He's not a ghost, John. He's a mayfly. He lives for a day," Sherlock told the army doctor as Lexi hugged his arms closer to her. _

_"Because he can only live for a day. But why? He's not getting off with any of the women he meets so…," Lexi said, trailing off thoughtfully as she and Sherlock turned back to the women and John left them again. _

_"…what was it he was looking for?" Sherlock finished for her before he turned his head to Gail. "Job."_

_"Gardener," Gail said and now she was wearing a pale jumper and overalls._

_"Cook," Charlotte told them and now she was wearing a cook's jacket and hat._

_"Private nurse," Tessa told them, now back in her uniform and Lexi nodded as if this confirmed one of her deductions. _

_"I do security work," Robyn told them and she was now wearing a security officer's uniform._

_"Maid," Vicky said, now also wearing the appropriate outfit for her job. Sherlock looked down for a brief moment, and then raised his head as Lexi tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and closed her eyes for a brief moment._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"High turnover for additional security," Sherlock said, writing on the name card in the reception room as Lexi hid what he was doing from view. "Probably all signed confidentiality agreements," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement as Sherlock passed her the name card while they walked over to Sholto which she then casually dropped down in front of him before they walked away.

**FLASHBACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER. **

_"Do you have a secret you've never told anyone?" Sherlock asked the woman and Lexi raised her eyebrow, smiling brightly. _

_"No," All five women said simultaneously and Sherlock and Lexi both grinned widely. _

_"Gotcha," The two detectives said in unison. _

_"What d'you mean?" John asked them, suddenly appearing at their side again. _

_"Everyone has secrets, and they all replied too quickly," Sherlock explained to John and Lexi hummed in agreement. _

_"Which means that they have something to hide," Lexi told the army doctor as she studied all of the women._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"And you wait until you find the right one… someone who knows the right thing," Lexi said quietly to Sherlock and he nodded at her in understanding. The pecking order they had talked about, someone's pecking order. Lexi mentioned before that maybe they were looking for the right thing and they had finally found it, with Tessa, the last of the Mayfly man's victims.

"There is another question that remains, however – a big one, a huge one, how would you do it? How would you kill someone in public?" Sherlock asked as Sholto picked up the name card and looked at the writing on it. It read:

**_IT'S YOU_**

"There has to be a way. This has been planned," Sherlock said and Lexi swore under her breath and Sherlock turned to her in confusion as Archie suddenly jumped up excitedly from his chair.

"Mr. Holmes! Mrs. Holmes!" Archie called excitedly and Lexi and Sherlock both stopped and turned to him.

"Oh, hello again, Archie," Sherlock said as Lexi changed her entire demeanour and smiled down at him.

"What have you got for us sweetie?" Lexi asked him as she and Sherlock bent forward to get more down to Archie's level.

"Get this right and there's a headless nun in it for you," Sherlock promised Archie and Lexi shot him a look and smiled at him slyly before she rolled her eyes slightly and smirked.

"The invisible man could do it," Archie said and Lexi grinned at him proudly.

"Very good Archie. You've figured out exactly what I have. Now why don't you explain it to Sherlock for me," Lexi asked Archie and Sherlock realized that this is why she had sworn. She had figured it out already. Then again, he wasn't surprised, she was always brilliant like that.

"The who, the what, the why, the when, the where?" Sherlock asked Archie quick fire.

"The invisible man with the invisible knife. The one who tried to kill the Guardsman. Mrs. Holmes said it herself," Archie said, looking up at Lexi and she nodded before looking back at Sherlock.

"Trial run," She told him and Sherlock gasped and straightened up, his eyes wide as Lexi strightend up beside him. In his mind he was standing in front of his information wall at 221B, Lexi standing beside him, looking at all the wedding plans stuck up behind the sofa. He zoomed in on a wedding invitation pinned to the wall, announcing the wedding at St Mary's Church, Sutton Mallet on Saturday 18th May at 12 o'clock and after.

He moved to look at his list of things to do and focused on the word "Venue". Before seeing the outside of the reception room. He looked at the word "Venue" again and this time saw an image of the barracks and soldiers parading outside.

He shifted his focus to the word "Plan" and then saw a close-up of Private Bainbridge standing on guard outside the barracks, his gaze fixed on the three tourists over the road as they walked away and revealed the stalker. Sherlock moved his eyes to look at the word "Rehearsal".

**FLASHBACK**

_The Duty Sergeant walked into the shower room and rapped on the cubicle door, calling Bainbridge's name before he saw the slumped body and bloodstained water._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Sherlock zoomed in on the word "Rehearsal" and he grimaced. In the reception room Major Sholto got to his feet, picked up his ceremonial sword propped against the window, and turned to walk towards the door. Sherlock turned his head away, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them again and looked directly at Lexi who nodded at him.

"Oh, not just planned. Planned and rehearsed," Sherlock said softly and Lexi made a slight gesture with her head. "You said it before, Bainbridge was only a trial run," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement before they turned and watched as Sholto reached the door and started to open it.

"Bainbridge never made sense, the case had holes. Joanna and the BAU both agreed with me that that was only the trial run, they planned and rehearsed the murder in advance," Lexi told Sherlock and he nodded and kissed the side of her head before they turned and headed quickly towards the top table, swiping someone's champagne glasses from a table as they went.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there will now be a short interlude," Sherlock said as he and Lexi skidded to a halt in front of the top table and turned and held up their glass.

"The bride and groom!" They said in unison and with a little uncertainly this time, the guests stood up and raises their glasses.

"The bride and groom," The guests repeated and instantly Sherlock and Lexi turned back and bent down to John.

"Major Sholto's going to be murdered. We don't know how or by whom, but it's going to happen," Sherlock told John who looked at them wide eyed in shock.

"And very, very soon," Lexi added before both detectives turned and started making their way through the guests who were now blocking the aisle.

"'Scuse us, coming through!" Sherlock said as he kept his hand firm linked with Lexi's so as not to lose her.

"Woman in a dress coming through," Lexi called loudly in her Irish accent and people started to move for them, making Sherlock chuckle. John quickly turned and took Mary's head in one hand and kissed her.

"Consulting!" Sherlock shouted as he and Lexi pushed through the crowd.

"Bit of a case, should only take a few minutes," Lexi added as John looked up at them and then back down at Mary.

"Stay here," John told Mary, not wanting her to be in any danger. He had noticed when Mycroft had gotten up and moved his and Sherlock's parents out of the room. He also noticed that it was Lexi who had told him to do that. Whatever was going on Lexi knew something, she was calculating and she only did that on one of two occasions, when they were about to die or when she knew something they didn't and she was trying to figure out a solution because an explanation would take too long.

"Please be careful," Mary told him and John smiled down at her.

"I'll be with Lexi. She'll throw her shoes at any murderer who tries to get too close to Sherlock or me," John joked and Mary smiled before John got up and started making his own way through the guests. "'Scuse me. Coming through! 'Scuse me," John said, following after the consulting detectives. Mary hesitated for only a few seconds, then jumped up and followed him.

"Sorry, one more. Whoops! So sorry! Thank you!" Mary shouted and the guests murmured and chattered to each other in confusion.

"Actually that'll be one more," Joanna said as she stood up and looked at the table grinning. "Oh yeah," She said with a nod. "I'm doing this," She said, kicking off her heels before she vaulted up and over the table before rolling into the middle aisle and onto her knees, throwing her hair back. The guests stared at her in shock, whispering louder as she rose to her feet, Mycroft popping his head into the room to see what was taking her so long. He sighed in exasperation when she caught his eye. "Alright, Maid of Honour coming the fuck through. Move it or lose it," Joanna said and the guests moved out of her way, parting like the red sea as she stalked up to Mycroft barefooted. He held a hand out to her and she took it as he escorted her from the room.

"Was that really necessary?" Mycroft asked her with a sigh.

"Not really, but it was fun," Joanna smirked and Mycroft only grumbled slightly when she pulled him down and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Now, kick ass crime solving! My kind of wedding," Joanna said excitedly as she bounced into the main receiving room where Lexi and Mary were talking with Mummy Holmes who were detaining them, the boys having rushed on ahead.

Upstairs, Major Sholto opened the door to his bedroom and walked in. He laid his sword on the bed and then undid the zip around his suitcase. Lifting the lid and laying it back, he picked up a folded shirt on the top of the contents and put it down inside the lid. On top of the rest of his clothing was a large pistol and he picked it up.

"Alright Lexi, Mary, go find your husbands, their rubbish without you," Joanna ordered the women before she reached down and lifted the skirt of her dress.

"What are you doing?" Mycroft squeaked as he tried to shove her skirt down and Joanna rolled her eyes as she straightened up, smoothing out her skirt in the process and held up a gun.

"Though she might like this," Joanna said as she handed the gun off to Lexi who hid it under her dress. "Now shoo," Joanna told them and Lexi grabbed Mary's hand before the two women rushed off to find their husbands. "Now, where were we?" Joanna asked before she walked over to Mummy and Papa Holmes and smushed herself in between them. "I believe you were telling me a story about Myc earlier," Joanna said, shooting an evil grin back at Mycroft who groaned as his mother started going on about when he used to shut himself in his room studying.

**Sherlock's POV**

Downstairs, on a half-landing partway up the staircase, Sherlock stood with the tips of his fingers against his temples and his eyes screwed closed while John paced impatiently beside him. Lexi had gotten detained by his mother and sent them on ahead and right now he couldn't think without her there. He couldn't remember which room Sholto was in. Lexi would have known but she wasn't here right now so it was up to him and John's pacing wasn't helping him any.

"How can you not remember which room? You remember everything," John asked Sherlock in frustration.

"I have to delete something!" Sherlock shouted irritably as Mary and Lexi ran around the corner, dropping each other's hands as Lexi pelted up the stairs first, Mary just behind her, both women holding their skirts up with one hand to stop themselves from tripping over them.

"207," Lexi and Mary said in unison as the boys chased after them and Sherlock quickly overtook them with his long legs and reached for Lexi's hand. She dropped one of her hands from her skirt and linked her hand with his as Mary took John's hand in hers behind the two detectives and hurried after them. Sherlock looked down and was surprised that she could be moving so quickly in what looked like three inch stiletto heels. They reached the second floor and Sherlock knocked on the door of Room 207 and tried the handle.

"Major Sholto? Major Sholto!" Sherlock shouted, rattling the door handle. He slams the flat of his right hand repeatedly against the door. "Major Sholto!" Sherlock shouted again before Lexi grabbed his hand before he could slam on the door again.

"Major Sholto please," Lexi called to him, her Irish brogue coming out thick and Sherlock kissed the side of her head quickly to comfort her, knowing that it was coming out now because she was under a lot of stress.

"If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready," Sholto called loudly to them through the door.

"Bollocks!" Lexi yelled angrily back to him and John walked over to the door while Sherlock stepped back, pulling Lexi into his side and tucking her under his chin while he shook out his right hand and flexed his fingers. Lexi took his hand in hers and brought it to her mouth, kissing it and Sherlock smiled down at her.

"Major, let us in," John ordered.

"Kick the door down," Mary told John before she looked over at Lexi who shrugged, knowing that she could do it.

"I really wouldn't. I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes," Sholto called from inside the room and Lexi rolled her eyes.

"And I'm Irish with CIA training Major, do we really want to see who is faster here?" Lexi asked him as she suddenly reached down and pulled a gun out from under her dress and held it up. Sherlock shook his head quickly and looked down at Lexi disapprovingly.

"Calm down dear," Sherlock told her and she huffed. Sometimes he had to remind her when to calm down, especially in situations like this.

"Where did you get a gun?" John asked Lexi in surprise while Mary just rolled her eyes at her.

"Joanna," Lexi shrugged and John threw his arms up in exasperation.

"Oh yeah of course, why not. Guns at a wedding," John said as Sherlock took the gun from Lexi. She pouted at him and Sherlock leaned down and kissed her deeply, removing all traces of it.

"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him," Sherlock called to Sholto, walking closer to the door as he got back on track.

"We've already seen how that plays out once Major," Lexi called to him as she stepped closer to the door with him.

""The invisible man with the invisible knife,"" Sholto called and Lexi nodded in agreement. He had been listening then.

"We don't know how he does it, so we can't stop him, and that means he'll do it again," Sherlock called to Sholto as Lexi suddenly frowned as if she was trying to figuring something out.

"Solve it, then," Sholto told them sternly and Lexi laughed brightly and smiled.

"I – I'm sorry?" Sherlock stuttered in confusion as he looked to Lexi in surprise over why she was happy about this.

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna or you were Mrs. Holmes. Solve the case. On you go," Sholto told them and Sherlock straightened up, his eyes rapidly flickering from side to side. "Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door," Sholto told them and John stepped forward again as Sherlock realized why Lexi was smiling. She liked Sholto. They said they could solve your murder so he was holding them to it. She liked him and she would, John only chose the best of companions.

"Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!" John shouted at Sholto in exasperation.

"So are you, so long as you're here," Sholto shouted back as Sherlock kissed Lexi's head and then started pacing back and forth across the landing as she and Mary watched him.

"I call bollocks again!" Lexi shouted at Sholto in she crossed her arms over her chest as Sherlock sent her a tiny smirk. Only she would still be sassing him at a time like this. He knew that she was solving the case though. He eyes were flicker between focused and unfocused as if she was entering and exiting her Mind Palace in rapid succession.

"Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage," Sholto called to them and Lexi swore loudly in several languages and insulted someone's mother in several more.

"You're being an idiot!" Lexi finally shouted at Sholto and they all heard a chuckle coming from inside the room.

"That's a compliment coming from you Mrs. Holmes. I've heard a lot about you. Let's see if you're as good as your men say," Sholto told her and Lexi grumbled and muttered something in Russian which Sherlock didn't catch. Sherlock realized what he was doing though. Sholto was putting his faith in the three of them, but most importantly in Lexi.

"Solve it," Mary suddenly ordered the two detectives and Sherlock stopped and looked at her.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked her in confusion as Lexi snorted slightly and rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Solve it, and he'll open the door, like he said," Mary told them as Lexi walked closer to Sherlock and slid her arm around his waist.

"If we couldn't solve it before, how can we solve it now?" Sherlock asked Mary in exasperation and Lexi hummed as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"Because it matters now," Mary told them and she looked over at Lexi. "And we all know that Lexi won't not solve it. She's already thinking," She said and Lexi shrugged as both boys watched her, knowing that was true.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked Mary before he turned to look at John. "What's she talking about? Get your wife under control," Sherlock told John who looked at him pointedly before flicking his gaze over to Lexi.

"She's right," John said and then he gestured at Lei. "And you're one to talk. Your wife is trigger happy," John said and Lexi smiled and giggled slightly at that.

"I blame it on Minsk," Lexi said with a shrug as Sherlock pouted.

"Oh, you've changed!" Sherlock said dramatically.

"No, she is," John said as he turned and pointed at him. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver – you never have been. You're a drama queen," John told Sherlock and Lexi threw back her head and laughed brightly as Sherlock's mouth dropped open and he stared at "Now, there is a man in there about to die," John said loudly. ""The game is on,"" John told them sarcastically before he angrily, pointed at the door. "Solve it!" Sherlock bared his teeth at him, then his eyes suddenly snapped upwards.

"The three of you shut up!" Lexi suddenly shouted, surprising the three of them. "John's right, there is a man in there about to die. So, we solve the murder and save the life. It's what we do and what we've always done, the three of us, so shut up, stop arguing, and work with me," Lexi told them, the boys both shutting their mouths and turning to her in an instant, Mary somewhat surprised as she had never seen them work a case before and certainly never seen them work like this before. "Now, what do we know? Who do Bainbridge and Sholto have in common? Bainbridge was the test run so what were they testing and where? Location of the wound perhaps?" Lexi asked them and John nodded at her as he caught on to her train of thought.

"They were both wearing their uniforms when they were targeted," john pointed out and Lexi grinned proudly.

"Exactly John," Lexi said and Sherlock closed his eyes briefly.

He could see Private Bainbridge in full uniform standing at attention against a white background. Bainbridge rotated as if standing on a turntable, and Sherlock's vision zoomed in to the man's white webbing belt. The image changed to Major Sholto in his dress uniform rotating on the invisible turntable, and again the view zooms in on his white webbing belt. Sherlock then recalled the waiter in the kitchen downstairs reaching down to take hold of the skewer pushed through the middle of the joint of beef. In the shower room at the barracks, Bainbridge unclipped his belt. The waiter slowly begins to pull the skewer out of the joint. Bainbridge unwrapped his belt from around his waist. The skewer came free of the joint, and blood and juice streamed out of the hole. Bainbridge stumbled slightly, looking uncomfortable. Blood continued to pour from the hole in the beef joint. The duty sergeant knocked on the door of the shower cubicle, calling Bainbridge's name. Bainbridge was slumped on the floor inside and bloodstained water poured out under the door. Outside Sholto's bedroom Sherlock opened his again. He stepped over to Mary, took hold of her head in both hands and kissed her forehead.

"Though, in fairness, he's a drama queen too," Sherlock told Mary releasing her, then pointing towards John.

"Yeah, I know," Mary told him and John frowned as Sherlock walked over to Lexi and bent down, kissing her deeply for several long moments before pulling back as she grinned up at him.

"And you are brilliant. Have I ever told you that?" Sherlock asked her and she hummed slightly in contentment.

"Once or twice, but I never get tired of hearing it," Lexi told him before she sobered slightly.

"When did you figure it out?" Sherlock asked her curiously.

"I began to suspect several theories over the last few days. I actually figured it out today while we were going through the case again. I noticed things I missed, certain connections to our Mayfly Man. We were too literal before, we looked at what happened to Bainbridge, not really why it happened," Lexi explained to him and Sherlock nodded before he and Lexi walked over to the door.

"Major Sholto, no-one's coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago," Sherlock called loudly to Sholto.

"What did you say?" Sholto asked them loudly in confusion.

"Whatever you do, don't take off your belt Major," Lexi called to him as she looked over at Sherlock and sighed slightly in relief that they had figured it out.

"My belt?" Sholto asked as Mary and John sent them confused looks as well.

"His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him. Lexi figured it out before with Bainbridge, remember John? She said that it was a delayed stabbing, she also pointed out the fact that Bainbridge was not stabbed in the locked room, and she noticed that they were both wearing the same things, their uniforms and more importantly, the same belt.

"That was how it was done, through his belt," Lexi explained to them quickly.

"Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it," Sherlock told them before he looked over to Lexi to finish the explanation for him.

"As long as the belt is on, you're fine. Bainbridge took his off to get in the shower though and minutes later everything that was held together by the belt fell back into its proper places resulting in internal bleeding and then haemorrhaging," Lexi said and John nodded his understanding.

"The-the belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight ...," John said and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"Exactly," She and Sherlock said in unison, surprising John and Mary slightly as they had been doing that quite a lot today.

"... and when you took it off ...," John said, trailing of and Lexi hummed and nodded.

"Delayed action stabbing just as Lexi said. All the time in the world to create an alibi," Sherlock said and he shook the door handle. "Major Sholto?" Sherlock asked in confusion.

"So – I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate," Sholto said from inside the room and Lexi said something under her breath rapidly that no one could understand, not even Sherlock.

"They solved the case, Major. You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal," Mary told Sholto and Lexi shook her head slightly, still muttering to herself as Sherlock watched her, raising his eye brow slightly.

"I'm not even supposed to have this anymore. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose – given the circumstances – I don't have to," Sholto said as Lexi suddenly closed her eyes and Sherlock knew she was calculating for every move that Sholto could make in the next few seconds. He smiled at her proudly, watching her in her element. "When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue," Sholto said and Lexi's eyes flashed open.

"And yet that's never stopped Sherlock and I Major and we get more death threats than you and from some very psychotic people," Lexi said and John, Sherlock, and Lexi shared a look as they all knew who she was talking about.

"Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down," John told Sholto and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"And if he doesn't I will because oddly I've taken a liking to you and that doesn't happen often Major but seeing as we both know John that isn't so surprising," Lexi told him and John looked at her slightly in surprise. "I wasn't really kidding before. CIA training and I'm Irish, that makes me stubborn and dangerous," Lexi told Sholto jokingly.

"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think," Sholto said and John turned away from the door as Sherlock and Lexi walked closer.

"Yes, I think we are," Sherlock agreed with Sholto.

"In many ways," Lexi added with a nod.

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?" Sholto asked the two detectives.

"Of course there is,' Sherlock told him and Lexi nodded again.

"We've done it once," Lexi told him as she closed her eyes briefly and the opened them again.

"And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier," Sholto said and Lexi nodded once and then again more firmly.

"Of course one should, but not at John's wedding," Sherlock told Sholto firmly. "We wouldn't do that, would we – you and me and Lexi? We would never do that to John Watson," Sherlock asked him and there was silence from inside the room.

"Because that's why we're all here. For John, and the three of us, we would do anything for John Watson. So don't do this now. If two years taught me anything it's that there is always something to live for and friends are one of them. Major, you've shut yourself away for so long you've forgotten to live. Think of this as a second chance," Lexi called to him and then she and Sherlock stepped away from the door and John walked closer, leaning towards the door and listening for any sound from the room. He straightened up and took his jacket off.)

"I'm gonna break it down," John said as Lexi reached down to take off her heels.

"I'll help," Lexi told him and John nodded at her in thanks.

"No, wait, wait, you won't have to," Mary told the both of them and John hummed questioningly as the door suddenly opened. Sholto glanced briefly at Sherlock and Lexi, then lowered his eyes before looking at John.

"I believe I am in need of medical attention," Sholto said and John looked at him thankful that he had opened the door.

"I believe I am your doctor," John told him and Sholto looked up and over at Lexi.

"If Mrs. Holmes might oblige as well," Sholto said and Lexi smiled at him genuinely.

"It would be my pleasure," Lexi told him before she had John followed Sholto as he turned and went back into the room. Giving Sherlock a quick smile, Mary followed him. "Nurse!" Lexi called from inside the room and Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment in amusement, then followed them.

It was all rather straight forward. Lexi called Joanna downstairs and had her call Mycroft's personal ambulance which was told to turn off its emergency sirens as soon as it got close so as not to alert the other guest. Lexi took charge of the situation which John was thankful for and Sholto joked that she would have made a fine soldier in any regiment. After assessing their options, she thought it best for them to keep Sholto's belt on until they could get him to a hospital where he could get immediate medical help. While he didn't like the idea of going to a hospital, Joanna assured him that she had called ahead and cleared out an entire ward just for him and only Mycroft's personal doctor's would see to him and she had already notified Tessa and sent a car to bring her to the hospital. He had said that it was impossible for a woman to do all that and she had told him was British Security Service, saluted him, and walked out of the room to join Mycroft down stairs. Sholto laughed and told John that he had done well for himself and made friends with some rather spectacular and powerful people at which point Lexi reminded him that friends were everything. Once they got him loaded in the ambulance, Lexi told Sholto to keep in touch which he thanked her for, grateful that someone like her would want to be friends with someone like him. Sherlock told him that was Lexi and he kissed her head before they, John, and Mary walked back inside to move onto the rest of the reception, John's Best Man speech long forgotten. It really wasn't needed. It was hard to put into words what type of man Sherlock Holmes was and there were things that Sherlock did that no one would ever be able to understand. John knew though and that was enough. Besides if John had troubles summing up Sherlock, he couldn't even begin to sum up Lexi and he couldn't go into how Sherlock was such an amazing, brilliant, and fantastic person without including Lexi. As Mary and John watched the two detectives laughing and sharing a stolen kiss before they joined every again, they knew they had done the right thing and Sherlock, Sherlock had never felt happier in his life than when he was holding Lexi Holmes in his arms.


	97. The Sign Of Three

**Hello sweeties and now for the conclusion of The Sign of Three.**

**Ginny: To answer your review, yes, I do, do something differently with Janine in the next case to get into CAM's office. Also you guessed one of the possibilities for what happens in CAM's office. I like spoilers too, but unfortunately you are going to have to wait, not long now though sweetie, the case starts on Thursday and will finish next Thursday, Hmm more Holmes? Maybe...I'll I will say is that there will soon be more than one Mrs. Holmes. And that is all the hint you are going to get. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Five – The Sign Of Three<strong>

**Lexi's POV**

An orchestral rendition of the waltz "On The Beautiful Blue Danube" by Johann Strauss II was playing in the other room and Sherlock and I were waltzing alone in the foyer of the wedding venue and Sherlock was counting time as we spun about the room together.

"One, two, three; der, der, der ... Ahh, very good," Sherlock complimented me as we turned again and I smiled at him as I leaned and rested my head on his chest.

"Granddad wanted me to take lessons when I was a girl. I told him I hated them but I secretly loved them. I didn't want to seem too girly. Dancing and consulting never seemed to mix," I confessed to Sherlock as he held me closer to him and then kissed the top of my head.

"You dance beautifully," Sherlock complimented me and I hummed as I lifted my head and smiled at Sherlock, kissing him lightly.

"Thank you, but remind me, why do we have to rehearse again?" I asked Sherlock once we broke apart and he leaned in closely to me and whispered closely to my ear, his lips brushing my ear and his breath tickling my neck as he spoke.

"Because we are about to dance together for the first time in public and I wanted some time alone with you without everyone watching. I don't like sharing you," Sherlock told me as he leaned down and kissed me deeply now that we weren't interrupted. We paused in our dancing as I wrapped both arms around Sherlock's neck and slid my fingers through Sherlock's curls while he slid a hand into my hair, being careful to not mess up the braids. Sherlock groaned into the kiss as our tongues slid together and I pressed myself closer to Sherlock, delighting in getting to be closer to him without anyone interrupting us or breaking us apart. We did end up breaking apart before we got any more heated. We still had a wedding reception to get through.

"On that we can agree," I told Sherlock a little breathlessly as he held me tightly to him, just holding me. "You're mine and I don't like sharing you," I told him and he hummed, smirking at me.

"Mine, I quite like the sound of that," Sherlock said and laughed brightly.

"You know husband, you're a brilliant dancer too," I told Sherlock as we started waltzing again slowly, though a lot closer together this time.

"I'll let you in on something, Lexi," Sherlock said as he leaned in and whispered in my ear again and I looked at him, raising my eyebrow playfully as he smirked at me.

"Go on, then," I whispered back to him with a smile.

"I love dancing. I've always loved it," Sherlock admitted to me and I laughed brightly as he smiled down at me.

"A man of many surprises. You never cease to amaze me. One of the reason why I love you," I told Sherlock as I leaned in and he frowned slightly and raised an eyebrow questioningly at me.

"And the other reasons?" Sherlock asked me and I smiled at him and kissed him before pulling back, the both of us smiling at each other in such a content way.

"Far too many to list," I told him and he chuckled before his eyes widened as if he got a sudden idea.

"Watch out," Sherlock told me quietly and he kissed the side of my head before he let go of me and took a few steps back from me. Looking around to make sure that nobody else could see him, he swung both of his arms to the left, took a sharp breath, raised onto his left foot, and did a full-circle pirouette.

"Ooh! Wow," I laughed brightly as I looked at him. "I'm guessing I have Mummy Holmes to thank for that," I told him and he cleared his throat as he walked back over to me and put his hands on my waist, drawing my closer to him as I wrapped my arms around his neck again and then played with the curls at the nape of his neck, making him shiver slightly.

"Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case." Sherlock told me and I grinned up at him and laughed slightly.

"I'll try to look for one," I promised him and he grinned down at me and chuckled.

"I love you," Sherlock told me as he tucked my head under his chin and I lowered my arms and wrapped them around his waist as we swayed gently, not even to the music anymore.

"I love you too," I told Sherlock as I nuzzled my face into his chest and breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent which was entirely Sherlock. "Can you believe that John and Mary planned this without us finding out?" I asked Sherlock with a small laugh.

"Not really. Statistically they had Mycroft and Joanna planning it with them and no one knew the entire plan except for Joanna which meant that we couldn't deduce more than little bits from each person so they were actually quite clever at keeping it a secret from us," Sherlock told me and I nodded in agreement. "I'm really glad that they did," Sherlock added after a brief pause.

"I agree Mr. Holmes," I said as I pulled back to look up at Sherlock.

"Is that so Mrs. Holmes?" Sherlock asked me, smirking before he leaned down and captured my lips with his own again. John walked into view and spotted us before he started walking over. He cleared his throat and Sherlock and I both broke apart with a groan.

"Really John? It's our wedding day!" I complained as we turned to look at the army doctor.

"Well, glad to see you've found some time to snog, Sherlock, Lexi, what with murderers running riot at my wedding," John said with a smirk as he clapped his hand on Sherlock's back as Sherlock kept one arm around my waist, holding me tightly to him.

"Our wedding day John, technically," I reminded the army doctor and he rolled his eyes at me in exasperation.

"And it was one murder... – one nearly murderer," Sherlock protested and Joanna walked into the room. "Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him," Sherlock told Joanna as he gestured to John and she snorted.

"I live with your brother. He's even more of a drama queen," Joanna told Sherlock who hummed in agreement before nodding.

"Oh yes, you're right," Sherlock said and she smiled and nodded as the entrance door opened and Greg walked in.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" Lestrade asked as he pointed back out the door. "Got him for you," Lestrade told them and Sherlock clapped his hands together as the wedding photographer walked in.

"Ah, the photographer. Excellent!" Sherlock said before he turned to Lestrade. "Thank you," He told the D.I. as I smiled at Greg.

"Brilliant work, thank you," I told Lestrade, kissing him on the cheek as we walked over to the photographer. Sherlock pointed at the camera the photographer was holding and I got a sense of déjà vu as I thought back to Kenny Prince.

"Er, may I have a look at your camera?" Sherlock asked the photographer.

"Er ...," The photographer said as he pulled his camera back nervously but then held it out to him. Oh, hesitation, I always loved people like that. "...what's this about? I was halfway home!" The photographer asked us and I snorted, deflecting. Sherlock looked back at me and nodded slightly as I shook my head ever so slightly.

"You should have driven faster," Sherlock told him as he took the camera from him.

"A lot faster," I added and the photographer looked ever so slightly worried for a minute. Sherlock held the camera out in front of the both of us and we flicked through the pictures on the back screen rapidly.

"Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see?" Sherlock smiled. "Perfect," Sherlock said as he showed everyone a picture of me in the middle of a bright laugh. I nudged him and he smirked at me before he kissed the side of my head and continued flicking through the pictures.

"What is? You gonna tell us?" Lestrade asked us and Sherlock handed the camera off to him.

"Try looking yourself," Sherlock told him as he wrapped his arms around my waist again, my back against his front as he rested his chin on top of my head.

"Um, look for what?" John asked as he walked over to Lestrade, Joanna following him as Sherlock and I broke apart and strolled closer to the photographer. "Is the murderer in these photographs?" John asked us as he pointed to the camera.

"It's not what's in the photographs; it's what's not in them – not in any of them," Sherlock told John and I looked over at the army doctor and nodded in agreement.

"Which is very telling. It's not really the pictures themselves, but what they represent," I added as Sherlock played with the fingers on my hand and brushed his thumb over my knuckles and then my wedding rings.

"Sherlock? Lexi? The showing-off thing, we've discussed it before," John told us and I sighed, rolling my eyes at him slightly as I smirked.

"Once or twice," I told John with a shrug.

"There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph but can go anywhere, and even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face," Sherlock said as we walked closer to the photographer and looked down towards his hand. "You only ever see ...," Sherlock said as I thought back to the photographer going around and taking photos around the reception room. Sherlock rapidly slapped one cuff of a pair of handcuffs around the photographer's wrist and the other cuff around the frame of a nearby birdcage luggage trolley, our friend Arthur Shappey would be so excited if he was here to see this. Only Martin and Douglas were here as Carolyn thought it was best that she didn't take Arthur to a wedding where he would probably get over excited. She did send us a wonderful wedding present and told us that she would fly Sherlock and me anywhere we wanted to go for free for our honeymoon. Arthur made us a homemade card, wishing us a brilliant life together.

"...the camera," I finished for Sherlock, being brought back to the present. "And the photographer remains completely anonymous."

"What are you doing? What is this?" The photographer demanded as I tutted slightly.

"Jonathan Small," Sherlock said holding up his phone to show the screen to the others. "…today's substitute wedding photographer – known to us as the Mayfly Man," Sherlock continued and I smiled at Joanna and John.

"I did tell you that we would figure it out at some point. It only took us slightly longer than I thought it would. We've been dancing around this case for a while. It started back with Bainbridge. That was the test run. Then came Tessa, she alerted us to the Mayfly Man's existence while really Tessa's case and that of the Bloody Guardsman are one in the same. John, you told us about Major Sholto when we asked you who he was, he led a group of crows into battle. Small's brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion," I explained and Sherlock smiled at me proudly as I shared our deductions.

"Jonny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto's staff, found what he needed ... an invitation to a wedding – the one time Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made his plan ...and rehearsed the murder...making sure of every last detail," Sherlock explained and I nodded in agreement.

"It took him a few goes until he found the right person and was able to get a hold of the wedding invite. He had to be a different man every night so none of the women working for Sholto would realize that they were all going out with the same man if they started talking to one another as women are apt to do. All of the women signed a confidentiality agreement and they kept their word, they said nothing. Tessa is a nice girl, but she let something slip by accident. Bainbridge was just a test run, randomly chosen because he wore the same sort of uniform as Sholto. Small needed to make sure that his, method worked, so he rehearsed the murder like you would a wedding. So, now he knew about the wedding, he had the method, and if Sherlock and I hadn't have been here and figured it out, he would have been long gone by the time Sholto undressed and ended up dying. Of course lucky for us, John and Mary had the brilliant idea of planning a secret double wedding and hardly anyone save a few people know of our connection with John so no one could calculated for the fact that two consulting detectives and a Scotland Yard D.I. would be attending the wedding," I finished with a brilliant smiled as Small looked calmly back at Sherlock and me and Sherlock kissed the side of my head as both Lestrade and John looked at me proudly. Joanna smirked and rolled her eyes slightly as she was used to seeing me being brilliant.

"Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac – though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good," Sherlock said as he looked down at me. "Which is quite good for us as I would rather like a few photographs of this wedding," Sherlock told me and I smiled up at him.

"I'll make a scrapbook," I promised him and he smiled at me brilliantly before he tossed his phone to Greg.

"Everything you need's on that. You probably ought to ... arrest him or something," Sherlock told Lestrade as Mary came into view, probably looking for John. She spotted him, smiled, and hurried towards him. Joanna, wandered closer towards Sherlock and me and she leaned closer to the both of us and spoke quietly without looking at us.

"Do you always carry handcuffs?" Joanna asked Sherlock suggestively as she flicked her gaze over to me.

"Down, girl," Sherlock told her with a smirk.

"Isn't that you and Mycroft?" I asked her with one eyebrow raised and she shrugged her shoulders as Sherlock made a disgusted face.

"My lips are sealed. Speaking of Mycroft, I think I spotted a closet I was going to try and pull him into," Joanna said with a smirk and Sherlock gagged as she walked away from us in search of her fiancée.

"Come on, quick!" Mary said, holding her hand out to John. She reached his side and John put his arm around her as she turned and saw Small nearby, handcuffed to our luggage trolley. He was looking at Sherlock and me fixedly.

"Pay no mind to the man handcuffed to the luggage rack," I told Mary when she shot me a questioning glance.

"It's not me you should be arresting, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Small told us and I snorted and rolled my eyes at him.

"Really?" I asked him sarcastically.

"Oh, we don't do the arresting," Sherlock told Small as he nodded towards Greg. "We just farm that out. Lexi gets a bit too happy as you can imagine," Sherlock told Small before smirking at me and I shrugged at him.

"Sholto – he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker," Small said and he grinned manically before his smile faded and he shook his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever," Small told us and I looked at him, tilting my head to the side.

"Major Sholto is a brave man and I would be honoured if he decided to be my friend in the future. If we have one thing in common it is that we both put our faith in John Watson. Everyone makes mistakes Johnathan. How is it Sholto's fault that all those men died? He didn't know what they were running into. So who are we to judge or place blame upon the one person who survived but really wished they hadn't? Answer me that and then you can tell me you were clever," I told Small calmly and Sherlock pulled me closer to him, knowing that I could never fault anyone for a decision they had made no matter what the outcome was.

"You should have driven faster," Sherlock told Small again softly before he pulled his arm from my waist and crooked his arm. I smiled and took it and we walked away, John and Mary following us.

"Right ...," I heard Lestrade said behind us and I laughed. So we solved a murder and saved a life all at our own wedding. We were really quite brilliant.

"There you are," Joanna called as we entered the reception room again and some of the guests turned to look at her to see why she was shouting across the room as she made her way towards us pulling a dishevelled looking Mycroft behind her, apparently she had found her cupboard, while some of the other guests turned to look at our arrival again. "Could you stop consulting for just a minute? We have to cut the cake," Joanna told us and I nodded at her.

"Well, hardly anything left to consult, the would be murderer's be caught and the would be victim has been saved," Sherlock mused with a smirk and Joanna rolled her eyes.

"Yes, how very civil minded of you Sherlock," Mycroft said sarcastically and Joanna nudged him in the ribs as Sherlock glared at him. "Now, shall we move this wedding along? We can only invent stories to tell the guests for so long," Mycroft said with an almost pleasant smile.

"I thought making up cover stories was your job," Sherlock sneered, and Mycroft rolled his eyes as Joanna and I shared a look.

"Yes boys, we get it," I said as I stepped in between them. "Now, don't make us get your mother," I told them and they both paled slightly.

"God knows she would be all too willing to scold the both of you," Joanna said and I nodded in agreement as she grabbed my hand. "Right, now cake!" Joanna said before she started dragging me with her through the throng of guests which meant that we dragged Mycroft and Sherlock behind us. I giggled with her as Mary and John followed us over to the tables that had been wheeled out. I gasped in surprise as Joanna situated Sherlock and I next one of the two three tiered cakes.

While John and Mary's cake was purely traditional with a fondant drape over it and little flowers and a bride and groom on the top, Sherlock's and mine was anything but. Each tier was decorated with something from our cases. The first had the word Rache written on it in icing and a pink phone was sitting at the base of the cake. There was also the text message Sherlock had sent John written on the cake, the word wrong, a pink case, and various other bits and bobs from the case. The second tire had the Chinese Suzhou numerals on them along with a lucky cat, a pair of high heels, a sword, and a jade pin. I giggled slightly as I got the references. The last tier had shamrocks on it as well as the words Vatican Cameos written on it and a magnifying glass and pistol lying crossed together. The cake toper was the most incredible part though. Instead of the traditional bride and groom cake toper, John and Mary had gone with a deerstalker and fedora balanced together. Sherlock eyed the two hats and sighed before he smirked and shook his head, kissing my forehead as John and Mary stood by their own cake.

"Oi!" Joanna shouted, getting everyone's attention and Mycroft sighed in exasperation though I caught his smile. "If you all want some fucking cake you have to watch them cut it first," Joanna called to them and Mycroft sent her a despairing look as some of the guest chuckled and others mummed. Sherlock and I laughed brightly, John and Mary joining in with us. That was Joanie and that was why I loved her. I caught Mummy and Papa Holmes amused expressions.

Mary and I were given knives and I caught John's eyes as I held the knife up and smiled manically before giggling as he rolled his eyes. Sherlock chuckled and kissed the side of my head before we held the knife together and being us, we decided to cut the top tier first rather than the bottom. We cut right through the two fondant hats and broke two little pieces off of the cake. John and Mary watched us as they picked up their own as if they were frightened we were going to shove the cake into each other's faces, but we fed each other the little bits of cake. I giggled as Sherlock got a bit of frosting on his nose and I had some on my upper lips and I kissed his off before he kissed mine off, the guests clapping as even Mycroft had to smile. Sherlock and I were allowed to take our seats at the table again as the servers came back out and plated up the cake, sending it around. Mary and John had chosen the cake that Sherlock and I had liked, the vanilla cake and strawberry filling with buttercream icing. We were simple people with simple tastes. We moved the table around and had Mummy and Papa Holmes sit near us and Mycroft sat near Joanna on the end. It was sweet to watch Joanna as she fed Mycroft bits of cake even if he seemed somewhat embarrassed. Mycroft still wasn't open entirely to the concept of PDAs but Joanna was changing that mostly by force. Sherlock and I held hands under the table and sat as close to one another as possible as John and Mary watched us, leaning their heads in towards each other and whispering. After cake, the tables were cleared away so the dancing could begin and once that was taken care of Joanna stood up in front of everyone, obviously acting as the Master of Ceremonies now and no one was stopping her.

"As many of you may know," Joanna started as she looked at the guests. "One of our brides is Irish," Joanna said and she looked across at Mary. "And Mary has agreed with me that this is a brilliant idea, so I am calling for our bride to show us all some Irish pride," Joanna said, calling me out and I groaned, knowing what she was asking for.

"I am not doing it," I told Joanna, pointing at her and she grinned at me.

"I sort of think you are. Janine, you ready?" Joanna asked her and the woman nodded and got up.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," Janine told me and I rolled my eyes as I stood up, kissing Sherlock who looked up at me in confusion.

"Fine, but only because I love you, remember that," I told Joanna and she squealed in delight as I took off my heels and shoved them under the table. John was also frowning in confusion so I assumed that Mary hadn't told him about this bit. I walked around the table and took my place between Joanna and Janine on the dance floor in front of the long table which was the only one that remained at the back of the room. I smiled as I faced Sherlock and Joanna nodded at the musicians at the other end of the room the stage and they started playing a rendition of Irish Washerwoman. I laughed brightly and hiked my dress up a little higher as the three of us started a river dance. Sherlock smiled brilliantly at me as I kept my eyes steady with his and John laughed as we started. Sherlock surprised me when he stood up and walked around the table, joining us. Joanna moved, making room for him and he fell into step beside me. "When did you learn?" I asked him in surprise. "I tried to teach you and it went badly," I said with a laugh and he chuckled brightly.

"I wanted to surprise you, you never know when it comes up in consulting work," Sherlock told me as they started playing slightly faster and I smiled ruefully.

"Well, you certainly have. Let's see if you can keep up," I laughed and I dropped one hand from my skirts and linked my fingers with Sherlock's as we picked up our pace. The guests started clapping in time and John laughed brightly as we danced. The music picked up in tempo again and our feet were moving even faster, Joanna and Janine had to give up because they were laughing to hard and messing up, unable to keep up with it but Sherlock and I were keeping up with the music. The musicians decided to take it one step further and made it even faster and Sherlock and I laughed breathlessly as our feet moved in nearly a blur, the guests cheering as the music came to an end with a brilliant flourish. I fell against Sherlock breathlessly, laughing and Sherlock kissed my forehead as he chuckled and John and Mary stood up clapping for the both of us. "I love you," I whispered to Sherlock before I kissed him soundly and the guests cheered again. I could have sworn I heard Lestrade wolf whistle from somewhere in the room.

"I love you too," Sherlock whispered back to me as we moved back over to the table and John handed me a glass of champagne. I saluted him with it and drank it gratefully before sitting and catching my breath. Sherlock put my shoes on for me again and rested my legs in his lap and once we were sufficiently recovered Joanna called us up for our first dance together which John and Mary insisted we do first which worked well for us because of our surprise for John and Mary later.

Sherlock led me out to the dance floor and I smiled as he held me closely to him, the guests forming a circle around us. I looked up into Sherlock's eyes, blue-grey staring back into hazel as the music started and I teared up when I heard the song, You Raise Me Up. John had obviously remembered us playing it together. It was one of the first songs we had. Sherlock and I started twirling around the dance floor as the music played and I gasped in surprise when the first few notes of the song started and I heard my own voice. I looked over and found John and Mary as Sherlock and I looked at them in confusion and they smiled at us as they hugged each other.

_When I am down and, oh, my soul, so weary;_

_When troubles come and my heart burdened be;_

"When I was with Mary planning some things in the flat, John dragged you out to give us some space to work," I said, suddenly realizing where this came from. "I was singing because I was thinking of you. Joanna was there, she must have recorded it," I told Sherlock as my eyes watered and I smiled happily as Sherlock twirled me around the room and he pulled me closer to him and tucked my head under his chin.

"It's beautiful," Sherlock murmured to me, his voice reverberating in his chest. "You're beautiful," Sherlock told me and I nuzzled my face into his chest and sighed in contentment as I listened to the music wash over us.

_Then, I am still and wait here in the silence, _

_Until you come and sit awhile with me. _

_You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; _

_You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; _

_I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; _

_You raise me up: To more than I can be. _

_You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; _

_You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; _

_I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; _

_You raise me up: To more than I can be. _

I looked up at Sherlock and saw that his eyes were watering slightly too and everyone was sniffling as we danced about the circle of our friends and family. Lestrade looked very proud as he watched the both of us and I grinned up at my husband, a word I would never get tired of saying and I couldn't imagine a day without Sherlock in my life. I had been wandering before I met him and I found purpose with him. John saw the battlefield when he ran with Sherlock, but now I knew for certain what it was that I saw, home.

_There is no life - no life without its hunger; _

_Each restless heart beats so imperfectly; _

_But when you come and I am filled with wonder, _

_Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity. _

Sherlock and I had been lost before finding each other, but somehow, fate, destiny, whatever you wanted to call it had brought him, John, and me together. Because Baker Street, the three of us, what we did, that for us was the most important thing in the world. And this life, well, it was better with someone to share it with. John had found his other half now and yes, life would change. Baker Street would become a different place but what would never change was the bond the three of us had and the love I had for Sherlock, because honestly, I think I started loving him from the first moment I heard him speak, and all he did was ask to borrow a phone.

_You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; _

_You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; _

_I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; _

_You raise me up: To more than I can be. _

_You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; _

_You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas; _

_I am strong, when I am on your shoulders; _

_You raise me up: To more than I can be. _

_"_You raise me up: To more than I can be," I sang to Sherlock live as the music started to fade away and he dipped me lowly and kissed me deeply as the guests all clapped. They gave us a minute as we straightened up and Sherlock hugged me tightly. I laughed brightly as a few happy tears slid out. "I married my best friend you know," I told him and he chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"I couldn't agree more," Sherlock told me and nuzzled my head under his chin. We made our apologize to everyone and ducked into the foyer for a few moments as we needed a few minutes alone, overcome with our emotions. We held each other close, both of us feeling the same amazement that we had made it to this day. Over six months ago we thought we were both going to die but we were both alive and we were together and now I was officially Mrs. Holmes. "Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock whispered into my ear as if he could read my mind and I giggled and shook my head slightly as I flung my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"I really like the sound of that," I told him suddenly laughing brightly and he raised his eyebrow quizzically at me

"What?" He asked me and I shook my head at him.

"It's just, when we met you wanted us to call you Sherlock, not Mr. Holmes, but now you seem to like it," I told him and he chuckled at that and kissed me forehead.

"Well now it sounds less like my brother and father and more like that I am a married man. I quite like being yours," Sherlock told me and I nuzzled my face into his chest again as he rubbed his thumb over my hip bone. I hummed in contentment.

"Mmm, and I'm yours. Now, let's go surprise John and Mary," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before we both walked back into the reception room. "Can we have your attention?" I called as Sherlock and I walked back into the room and everyone who had been talking and milling about turned to look at Sherlock and me. "It is now time for the second bride and groom, our John and Mary to have their first dance. As much as they've surprised us, we have a bit of a surprise for them," I told the room and they both frowned at us as Sherlock and I walked over to the stage and the other musicians walked out. Sherlock's violin case and my viola case were already waiting on the back of the stage and we collected our instruments, Sherlock pulling the sheet music from his case. "Sherlock and I have composed a piece for John and Mary's first dance together as a married couple so if they could please take the floor," I asked as I made sure my viola was in perfect tune before I raised it to my shoulder. Sherlock nodded at me as he raised his violin to his shoulder and we waited until John and Mary were on the dance floor. "It's a waltz," I added and they positioned themselves accordingly before I waited and Sherlock nodded at me again before we raised our bows and started playing in unison. Mary and John looked into each other's eyes as they started dancing a slow waltz in the middle of the room to the sound of Sherlock and my combined melodies while all the guests stood around the edge of the room and watched them. Sherlock and I swayed gently while we played, our eyes fixed on the newlyweds before we looked right at each other, playing as we let the music take over. I folded my entire body into playing the music and Sherlock watched me in awe as my fingers nimbly played the tune. I grinned at him and leaned closer towards him. Playing with Sherlock had and would always be my favourite pastime. As the tune drew to an end, John shifted one hand to Mary's back, held her by the waist with the other, and started to dip her backwards.

"Really?!" Mary gasped in surprise. Chuckling, he bent her back as she giggled. He kissed her as Sherlock and I finished playing and the guests broke into applause and some of them cheered. Everyone was looking at the happy couple except for Janine, Joanna, Mycroft, and Mummy and Papa Holmes who directed their applause towards Sherlock and me. I grinned and curtsied slightly as Sherlock bowed and Joanna whooped at us.

"Yeah! You go kiddos!" Joanna shouted and I rolled my eyes at her. Sherlock looked at her for a moment before shaking his head before we turned to the music stand in front of us. I had taken of Sherlock's buttonhole flower for him and put it on the stand so that it wouldn't get in the way while he was playing and now he picks it up and showed it to me before he tucked it behind my ear. I leaned in and kissed him lightly before pulling back and he smirked at me happily. John, who had pulled Mary upright again and was laughing happily, waves his thanks to Sherlock and me, then kissed Mary again as Sherlock and I stepped up to the nearby microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Sherlock started as he reached back for my hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it before he pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arm around my waist. "…just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with," Sherlock said and then he looked over at me. "Lexi of course dealt with most of it as she always does," Sherlock praised me and I smacked him on the chest.

"He's just saying that because he wants to get lucky tonight," I teased him and the guests laughed as Sherlock's cheeks turned red. "Aww love, you know it's true," I told him and I kissed his cheek. "Sorry love," I apologised for teasing him and he hummed slightly. "But yes, we apologise for earlier. Though to be fair the crisis was dealt with rather quickly and I think John will agree with us that it could be considered to be a record for us," I told the guests in order to change the subject as Sherlock's cheeks cooled. Sherlock drew in a deep breath before he continued for us.

"More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows, well, technically four people but Lexi and I hardly count. We've already made these vows to each other before only this time they are legally binding. I've never made a vow in my life besides to Lexi who I vowed to give everything I have including myself, and after tonight I never will again," Sherlock said and I took up from there.

"Before now, I've never made a vow in my life either except for the vow I made to Sherlock who I vowed to never leave again after I left him once and it nearly killed the both of us and who I vowed to give everything I have to, including myself. I made a promise to him, together or not at all, one I have kept and will always keep," I told the guests and Sherlock kissed the side of my head as I turned towards him.

"So, here in front of you all, our second and last vow," Sherlock told all of the guests as we turned and looked directly at John and Mary. "Mary and John, whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on we swear we will always be there, always," Sherlock vowed as I smiled at our army doctor and his wife who had become part of our little family.

"…for all three of you," Sherlock and I said in unison before we hesitated momentarily and then Sherlock stuttered as my eyes widened in surprise as I realized what I had just said.

"Er, we're sorry, we mean, we mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. We've just miscounted," Sherlock said quickly, stumbling over his words as he took in a sharp breath and John and Mary exchanged a slightly worried look.

"It's the champagne," I confessed. "We've both had far too much but then again it is our wedding day so you really can't fault us for celebrating," I said quickly and Sherlock squeezed my hip, thankful for my quick thinking and help.

"Anyway, it's time for dancing," Sherlock said over his shoulder to the DJ on the stage "Play the music again, please, thank you," Sherlock told him and the disco lights begin to flash and Sherlock gestured grandly to the guests as Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons' song "December, 1963 (Oh What A Night)" started to play. "Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy!" Sherlock shouted and I jerked my head at Joanna and she nodded and pulled Mycroft onto the dance floor, much to his protests. Sherlock and I walked down off the stage, Sherlock lifting me by my hips and setting me down on my feet before we gestured to the crowd. "Dancing, please!" Sherlock told them all and the guests started to move onto the floor and began to dance. "Very good!" Sherlock told them as I smiled nervously and we walked over to Mary and John who looked quizzically at us.

"Our apologise," I told John and Mary quickly as Sherlock tucked me into his side.

"That was one more deduction than we were really expecting," Sherlock explained to them and I hummed and nodded in agreement.

""Deduction"?" Mary asked us in confusion.

"Increased appetite ...," Sherlock began listening as he gazed intensely at her and we both thought back to when she snatched one of the canapés from the waiter's tray and claimed she was starving.

"... and your change of taste perception. You liked the wine when we chose it before but today you hate it. I just always hated it but I like red wine not white. You love white wine and you loved that one when you chose it," I told Mary, smiling at her nervously. It didn't take a genius to notice it, of course we had figured it out but then again we were us.

"... and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with us when we mentioned it to you. All the signs are there," Sherlock told Mary and I nodded at her, being delicate.

""The signs"?" Mary asked us as she looked between us and Sherlock and I glanced across to John. I tried to give the army doctor a very pointed look but sadly he never seemed to catch on to the looks I was giving him. We turned our eyes back to Mary and I smiled at her.

"The signs of three," Sherlock and I told her in unison before our eyes dropped to her abdomen.

"What?!" Mary asked us in shock.

"Mary, we think you should do a pregnancy test," Sherlock told Mary calmly as John sighed and dropped his head, almost bending over double.

"And soon preferably, May," I told her and she grinned delightedly at the both of us.

"W... th... the statistics for the first trimester are ...," Sherlock stuttered nervously and I rolled my eyes and nudged him in the ribs slightly.

"Shut up," John told him, straightening up and Sherlock froze in the middle of forming his next word as I giggled slightly. Sherlock looked at John as if waiting for permission to continue. "Just ... shut up," John told him again.

"Sorry," Sherlock apologized as I put a hand on John's shoulder.

"Calm sweetie. Stay very, very calm," I told John and he nodded at me once before turning to Mary.

"How did they notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor," John asked Mary looking annoyed with himself.

"So am I so I should have notice it," I told John but I was ignored by him. Mary smiled and shook her head slightly as we watched everything unfold together.

"It's your day off," Sherlock told John and I giggled slightly as I watched my boys, shaking my head at him.

"It's your day off!" John shouted at the both of us.

"Stop-stop panicking," Sherlock told John, stuttering slightly.

"I'm not panicking," John told us and I looked at him pointedly.

"Yes you are," I sang with a smile and he shot me a glare.

"I'm pregnant – I'm panicking," Mary told us and I grabbed her hand and held it in mine, squeezing it tightly.

"Don't panic. None of you panic," Sherlock told the two of them and the Watsons both looked down, their faces full of concern.

"Really, don't panic, either of you, there is absolutely no reason to panic at all," I told John and Mary and the army doctor looked up at us.

"Oh, and you'd know, of course?" John asked us and I nodded, smiling at him.

"Yes, we would. You're already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you've had!' Sherlock told John and I laughed slightly and kissed his cheek as I got what he meant.

"What practice?" John asked us in confusion.

"Well, you're hardly gonna need us around now that you've got a real baby on the way," Sherlock told John and I let out a sound of protest. I was far more mature than he was, though sometimes I did need a babysitter when I made bad life decisions. John stared at the both of us for a long moment and then Sherlock and I smiled happily at him. John laughed brightly and reached out to cup the back of our necks. Laughing even more, he turned to his wife and dropped his hand around my neck to put it on her shoulder as she began to smile with delight. Sherlock turned his smile towards Mary, but after a moment the smile began to fade a little and I knew what he was thinking about. We would have that discussion soon.

"You all right?" John asked Mary and she nodded at him slightly.

"Yeah," She answered him a little breathlessly.

"Don't worry. You'll make brilliant parents and for the times you screw up, which you will, Sherlock and I will be here to help you," I promised John and Mary, hugging the both of them tightly and they hugged me back before I stepped back over to Sherlock's side. John smiled at the both of us joyfully and the three of us looked at each other for a long moment, then John broke the eye contact and we looked about awkwardly before there was a slightly embarrassing pause. I laughed breaking the silence and I shook my head at my boys. "Oh God, you're both idiots," I told my boys and Sherlock chuckled deeply.

"Dance," Sherlock told John and Mary abruptly and John hummed questioningly. "Both of you, now, go dance. We can't just stand here. People will wonder what we're talking about," Sherlock told them and I nodded.

"Joanna and Mycroft already know of course, but everyone else will just start getting nosy," I told them and John nodded slightly in understanding.

"Right," John said and Mary looked at the both of us with a little smirk playing on her lips.

"And what about you two?" She asked us and I grinned at her before turning to look up at Sherlock.

"Husband?" I asked him and he smirked down at me and lifted his eyebrow slightly in silent questioning. "Dance with me?" I asked him with a smile playing around my lips.

"You never have to ask," Sherlock told me and I grinned at him as he kissed the top of my head.

"Come on, husband. Let's go," Mary told John and he pointed over his shoulder.

"This isn't a waltz, is it?" John asked her and she laughed.

"Don't worry, Mary, we have been tutoring him. Well, most Lexi," Sherlock told her and I laughed brightly as I remembered the lessons. John was a terrible dancer but I managed to make him at least a decent dancer in time for his wedding.

"They did, you know. Baker Street, behind closed curtains," John said and turning to face her, he took her right hand with his left and put his other hand on her waist. "Mrs. Hudson came in one time when Sherlock was giving Lexi a break. Don't know how those rumours started!" Sherlock said and he sniggers. Giggling, Mary put her left hand on his shoulder and they danced off into the crowd. Looking over John's shoulder, Mary smiled at Sherlock and me and mouthed a 'thank you' to the both of us. We smiled and then Sherlock nodded at her before I pulled him out onto the dance floor. He wound his arms around my hips and I rested my head on his shoulder as the song changed to a slower song, "Wherever You Will Go" by Boyce Avenue. We swayed along with the music and after a few moments I broached the subject I knew was on both of our minds.

"You know, if we wanted kids, we could always adopt," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me slightly startled. "I know… I know I can't give you that, what John and Mary have," I continued before Sherlock cut me off with a kiss.

"We don't know that," Sherlock told me as we broke apart.

"Sherlock, it's been six months and nothing they've said has changed or will change. We've seen Mycroft's doctors. I got hurt. It was my fault…," I said and Sherlock shushed me again with a kiss.

"You saved my life and I almost lost you," Sherlock argued with me and I sighed heavily. "Your injury was in an area that might make it impossible for us to have children yes, but I don't think that means we should give up," Sherlock told me and I looked up at him, surprised by his persistence. "We've never been one to do what other's tell us. There might be a chance that they're wrong and if they aren't we can adopt when we want children. I'm not… I'm not ready for that now…," Sherlock told me as he looked down at me nervously. "I don't know what your views might be on the subject, but I could always consider…," Sherlock said and I cut him off this time by pulling him down for a kiss.

"Gods no, me neither," I told him as we broke apart. "Later maybe, but not now. I think I can start with being an aunt first," I told Sherlock and he sighed in relief. "Alright, we'll try in the future and we can talk about it later down the road. For now I think I would rather like to have time with my husband first," I told Sherlock as I laid my head back down on his chest, glad that we had had this discussion. It had been necessary and I felt much better having had it.

When Sherlock and I had been gone, we got into a spot of trouble. I threw myself in front of Sherlock and ended up taking a knife wound for him. It would have killed him but it almost killed me. I had been stabbed in my lower abdomen. I received medical attention but we could only stop for so long to let me recover before we had to start running again. We always worried about what that might mean. Mycroft's doctors gave us a full health inspection when we returned and they told us that I might not be able to have children. I was worried now slightly that with finding out that John and Mary were going to have a baby that Sherlock might want to start a family too and I wasn't ready for that nor was it probably possible for me to even have a baby. We could adopt of course. I was glad to find out that Sherlock wasn't ready yet either. I wasn't ready to be a mother. I was actually terrified with the idea of being a parent. Maybe someday we would have kids. We had talked about it once when we were on the run and mentioned that we would like to have children together one day but I wasn't ready yet. I never knew my mother, my father was terrible and I wasn't sure if I could be a good mother. I knew Sherlock would be an excellent father though. I hoped if we ever could have a baby that it would be a little boy that looked just like him. He mentioned once that he would want a little girl that looked like me. Sherlock and I swayed to the music as the song came to a close and I grinned up at him as the next song came on. "I Fought the Law" by The Clash started playing and I forced Sherlock into dancing with me to the more upbeat song. Sherlock hadn't been lying, he did actually like dancing. I spotted Joanna dancing with Mycroft across the room and I pitied him. Joanna loved dancing but it looked like Mycroft didn't like anything other than ballroom dancing. After another dance to "Henry The VIII, I Am" by Herman's Hermits, "Dancing Queen" by Abba, and "Your Song" by Elton John, Sherlock leaned in closely to me.

"What do you say we get out of here?" Sherlock whispered in my ear and I shivered slightly as his warm breath tickled my neck.

"Mr. Holmes, are you proposing we ditch our own wedding party?" I asked Sherlock with a sly smile as I leaned back to look at him to find him smirking down at me mischievously.

"That is exactly what I'm proposing, Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock told me and I giggled and leaned in closer to him, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him soundly. I heard a few people make aww sounds around us but I ignored them as I focused on my husband. I threw my arms over his shoulders and played with his curls, waving off the person who made a wolf whistle who was probably John this time. I flipped off Joanna for certain which enticed a few hearty laughs before Sherlock dipped me down, deepening the kiss for a minute before we broke apart and straightened up.

"Well in that case, I accept," I told Sherlock breathlessly and we made it back through the throng of the guests as they went back to dancing. We walked back up onto the stage together and looked down where on the music stand the hand-written music we played for the newlyweds was still sitting out. In the top right-hand corner was written:

**_Waltz, _**

**_for Mary & John_**

**_by_**

**_Sherlock & Lexi Holmes_**

Of course we had written that before our marriage because it sounded better than by Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna. The last month or two I had been unofficially going by Holmes instead of MacKenna, at least just when I was with Sherlock. Sherlock picked up the music and folded it into an envelope, which he put onto the stand. Written on the envelope in my flowing script was:

**_Dr. and Mrs. Watson_**

We left the stage together and walked slowly through the guests, looking over at Molly who was dancing with Tom and Mrs. Hudson who looked across the room and watched us for a few seconds. I waved at her and grinned and she smiled back at us before she turned back to the others.

"Baker Street?" I asked Sherlock as we snuck out into the foyer of the reception hall together and he hummed and kissed the side of my head.

"Mmm, where else?" Sherlock asked me and I grinned at him brightly before I held up a pair of keys that I pulled from an undisclosed location. "Where did you get those?" Sherlock asked me as he raised his eyebrow questioningly and I smirked at him mischievously.

"I nicked them off of Joanna earlier. I had a feeling you might want to leave early and I know she won't mind," I told him as I linked my fingers with his. "Let's go home Mr. Holmes," I told him and he looked at me for a long moment before his face lit up in possible the largest smile of his life.

"Nothing has ever sounded better than that," Sherlock told me with the rawest honesty in his eyes and he kissed me before we walked out into the garden outside the reception room after finding our coats we had come in. Sherlock slid mine on and then tied my scarf around my neck before he put his own coat on and tied his scarf in a similar fashion. I grinned at him before we both turned the collars of our coats up and laced our fingers together, walking away out to the parking lot. "Which is…," Sherlock said as I led him towards the red motor bike. "Well of course she would have that," Sherlock said and I laughed suddenly as we got closer to it. One the back of the motor bike was a pretty painted sign that said "Just married" with a little "Again" tacked on underneath it. Sherlock and I both laughed as we realized that she expected us to steal her bike. I unlocked her storage compartment and took out her two helmets and we put them on before I swung my leg over the bike. Sherlock got on behind me and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist before I kicked the bike into gear.

"And that's in heels!" I yelled back to Sherlock over the roar of the engine with a laugh. I looked back and noticed Joanna and Mycroft standing near the door to the reception room watching us and I waved at them before I backed up and nodded at Sherlock, speeding away into the night. We rushed back from Bristol to London, the night air wiping around us as Sherlock held me closer to him. As we got back in to London I took the long way back to the flat, taking a scenic ride with Sherlock around the city to take in the night lights. Mrs. Hudson was staying in Bristol so we had all night together before she made it back late in the afternoon, we had time. We actually stopped at Angelo's which was still open and Angelo was surprised to see me in a wedding dress and Sherlock in his groom's wear. He had the dining room toast us and as always the food was on him. We sat in the same table we sat in while on our first case and ordered our favourite dishes. We shared a bottle of Sangria and shared and intimate moment with a few laughs and for once, the candle stayed lit at the table. After Angelo's we returned back to Baker Street and the door to 221 resounded with a bang, singling to all that we were not to be disturbed until the following morning, though there wouldn't be a lot of sleeping getting done that night. The next morning we would enjoy a cuddle in bed and a week or so enjoying our married life after that before the new Napoleon of crime came to our attention. An East Wind had started blowing and it was only a matter of time before it came for us. In the meantime, I would enjoy this moment, this one moment where everything went right for once and nothing, nothing could ruin my happiness. I had married my best friend and the one man that I loved all consumingly. I was finally Mrs. Holmes and together, Sherlock and I would face that East Wind as we had faced everything else that had come for us.


	98. Pressure Points

**Hello sweeties! The first chapter of Their Last Vow!**

**And now for a message from my guru:**

**Message to "go get it" from Marci about the review from four months ago: kindly piss off.**

**Dearest reviewers, PetuniaViolet and Ginny,**

**CALM YOURSELF.**

**Love,**

**Marci**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Six- Pressure Points<strong>

**Third Person POV**

A pair of thin rimmed spectacles laid on top of a table as a man sat quietly looking ahead at the people interrogating him. The man sat alone at a table in a large room. The wall to his left was made of floor-to-ceiling glass. He was facing three more tables which were laid out in a U-shape. There were eleven people sitting at these tables. Each person had a microphone on a stand in front of them, and the session was being filmed and projected onto a screen behind an older woman. She sat at the centre of the table facing the man who was being interrogated. There was a glassed-off viewing gallery at the rear of the room where observers, mostly journalists, who were sitting and watching the proceedings with headphones on their ears. The man answered all the questions asked of him in a flat tone, showing no emotion.

"Mr. Magnussen, please state your full name for the record," A woman, Lady Smallwood and the woman who was the leader of the session, asked the man being interrogated and he looked over at her calmly, not at all concerned with the proceedings that were currently taking place.

"Charles Augustus Magnussen," Magnussen answered in in a thick Danish accent. He studied Lady Smallwood who was sitting at another table some distance away, facing him. She was a woman in her early sixties and his view of her was blurred with his glasses off.

"Mr. Magnussen, how would you describe your influence over the Prime Minister?" Lady Smallwood asked him and Magnussen straightened up in his chair slightly and smiled at her.

"The British Prime Minister?" Magnussen asked her as he raised his eyebrow slightly at her.

"Any of the British Prime Ministers you have known," Lady Smallwood clarified for him in exasperation though she seemed to keep her composure, nicely done.

"I never had the slightest influence over any of them. Why would I?" Magnussen asked her with the slight smirk still on his face as this greatly amused him. Lady Smallwood looked through a report on the table in front of her as Magnussen flexed his fingers slightly.

"I notice you've had ... seven meetings at Downing Street this year," Lady Smallwood said as she looked up at him. "Why?" She asked and Magnussen sent her a despairing look.

"Because I was invited," Magnussen answered her before he tilted his head to the side. "As were several other people like Joanna Reyer. She's American, far more interesting than me," Magnussen mused as he thought over the woman that he had so recently been more enthralled with. She was rather an interesting find.

"Can you recall the subjects under discussion?" Lady Smallwood asked him, ignoring his comment about a woman she knew about all too well and one they were not allow to talk about under any circumstances.

"Not without being more indiscreet than I believe is appropriate," Magnussen told her and a man to the right of Lady Smallwood leaned forward to his microphone.

"Do you think it right that a newspaper proprietor, a private individual and, in fact, a foreign national should have such regular access to our Prime Minister?" The man asked him and while he had been speaking, Magnussen picked up his glasses and put them on. As soon as the man came into focus, information appeared in front of Magnussen's eyes in a white font:

**JOHN GARVIE**

**MP ROCKWELL SOUTH**

**ADULTERER (SEE FILE)**

**REFORMED ALCOHOLIC**

**PORN PREFERENCE: NORMAL**

**FINANCES: 41% DEBT (SEE FILE)**

**STATUS UNIMPORTANT**

then, in red underneath:

**PRESSURE POINT: **

The last line flashed momentarily as the information was searched for.

"I don't think it's wrong that a private individual should accept an invitation," Magnussen replied as the line stopped flashing and added further information:

**PRESSURE POINT: **

**DISABLED DAUGHTER**

**(SEE FILE)**

"However, you have my sincere apologies for being foreign. Miss Reyer is also foreign and I assure you all that she is a private individual as well with no ties to any known government, not even her own. It's strange that…," Magnussen said, trailing off as he thought about that specific bit of information that was actually rather interesting. An American who did not abide by the rules of the American government and who seemed to have no ties to any government, no loyalties either…perhaps the British Government had won her loyalty though, as she had been seen often in the company of Mycroft Holmes who was a government official. She'd also been seen enough times with the Prime Minister. Speaking of Mycroft Holmes, there was something to be found out there.

"That's not what I meant. That is not in any way ... And this meeting is not about Joanna Reyer. Let the record state however that she has diplomatic immunity in every country," Garvie announced and Magnussen smiled inwardly. He just found out exactly what he wanted to. Diplomatic immunity in every country, dearie me, someone was more important than he originally thought. No wonder the British Government was catering to her every whim. Did that mean sleeping with her too?

"Mr. Magnussen, can you recall an occasion when your remarks could have influenced government policy or the Prime Minister's thinking in any way?" Lady Smallwood asked, talking over Garvie as if she was trying to shut him up. Too late, he already let the cat out of the bag. While she was speaking, Magnussen turned his gaze to her and information immediately appeared in front of his eyes.

**LADY ELIZABETH SMALLWOOD**

**MARRIED**

**SOLVENT**

**FORMER GYMNAST**

**PORN PREFERENCE: NONE**

**VICES: NONE**

and, in red underneath:

**PRESSURE POINT: SEARCHING**

The line flashed for a moment and Magnussen took off his glasses and reached for a small cloth on the table.

"No. Miss Reyer however, she's influenced him a lot," Magnussen said as he inclined his head towards her slightly.

"Are you sure?" Lady Smallwood asked him, ignoring his comment again about Miss Reyer and Magnussen paused while he cleaned the lenses on his glasses and then put them on again. He looked at Lady Smallwood and the information about her reappeared in front of his eyes. The basic details about her then disappeared leaving just the red line which was no longer flashing and now read:

**PRESSURE POINT: **

**HUSBAND**

"I have an excellent memory," Magnussen told her, holding her gaze, before he smirked slightly. The proceedings ended for the day and Magnussen left, confidently striding to his car with a spring in his step. He got behind the wheel of his car and drove away through the city, noticing when he stopped at a few traffic lights that some of the cameras turned towards them. He waved at the camera currently pointing at him before blowing it a kiss and it turned away. He smirked to himself before driving on, knowing that he had caught someone's attention as much as they had caught his.

He drove until he got to a pair of ornate electronic gates which opened across a wide drive, Magnussen's black car bearing the licence plate 1 CAM drove through and progressed along the drive which curved across the centre of a small lake. At the end of the drive was a large beautiful and almost futuristic-looking house with tall windows and curved walls. At the house, a man in a suit opened the door to Magnussen and he walked into an opulent-looking hall which had walls that were part bare pale grey brick and part plastered in white. The floor was a pale colour and glass panels lined the staircases. Magnussen walked downstairs, passing a kitchen which was all pale brown tiling and stainless steel. He progressed to a glass wall with a glass door in it which led into a study which had a table inside on which were some slender and strange-looking ornaments. He went in and walked across to a double set of wooden doors. He paused for a moment, then opened them. He walked down a light brown wooden spiral staircase, again lined with glass panels. Further down, the spiral staircase becomes narrower and was now made of light grey metal. The stairs led into a large library. The shelves were full of files and ledgers and he walked through the stacks, his fingers raised and flicking towards various shelves as if he was trying to remember where he had put something specific.

At the rear of the library the room filled with computer screens, the same he had watched the footage on from when he had John Watson put into a bonfire. Lexi MacKenna, now Lexi Holmes had surprised him slightly by throwing herself into the bonfire after him. He hadn't been expecting that, not exactly. It was dark and creepy in this back area and the grotesque dolls, stuffed animals and sculptures were still on display. Magnussen went to a rotating card index and flicked through it until he found what he wanted, then he moved on and soon afterwards he looked at a file which had a photograph of Lady Smallwood paper clipped to the inside. He smiled a little. Next to her photograph was a picture of a man of around her age, and now Magnussen slid under the paperclip a photo of a beautiful girl who appeared to be in her late teens. The girl had ornately coiffed hair and was wearing a strappy white top and was looking directly into the camera, clearly posing for the photograph. Magnussen took the folder with him and found a second folder out which only had the name Joanna Reyer written on the top and was practically bare with only one piece of paper in it which hardly had anything on it. Not long afterwards, Magnussen was sitting in a chair facing a large wall. A film projector whirred beside him and the photograph of the girl was now being projected onto the wall. He was holding the original photograph in one hand and looking at it. After a moment he raised the photo to his mouth and ran one corner slowly down his bottom lip. The picture changed to show the Statue of Liberty. Lady Liberty, and he didn't even have a picture of her for his file…yet.

A few days later, across London Lady Smallwood was sitting at a table in a room which had several other tables and chairs scattered around. The room was one of several inside an exclusive club similar to The Diogenes Club. She was looking at paperwork when a smartly dressed attendant spoke to a man near the door.

"Your car's waiting outside, sir. See you tomorrow," The attendant said and the man left. Magnussen was sitting in an armchair some feet away from the table and now that he was alone with Lady Smallwood, he had his chance to carry out his next plan. Lady Smallwood put down her papers and pen and looked across to Magnussen as he stood up and walked across the room towards her.

"May I join you?" Magnussen asked Lady Smallwood politely.

"I don't think it's appropriate," Lady Smallwood told him as she eyed him warily. She didn't feel comfortable now that she was in a room alone with him.

"It isn't," Magnussen assured her as he went over to a wheeled chair nearby and rolled it across to the side of her table. He wanted her to feel uncomfortable, that was part of his entire plan after all.

"Mr. Magnussen, outside the enquiry we can have no contact, no communication at all," Lady Smallwood started as Magnussen sat down, then reached out and grasped her hand. "Please don't do that," She told him and he smirked at her.

"In 1982 your husband corresponded with Helen Catherine Driscoll," Magnussen started off and he saw the warning flash in her eyes as he brought up that bit of information that he had dug up.

"That was before I knew him."

"The letters were lively, loving – some would say explicit – and currently in my possession," Magnussen told her, making it quite clear that he had the letters and that he could use them at any point that he wished.

"Will you please move your hand?" Lady Smallwood asked him and Magnussen ignored her as he started to narrate part of one of the letters.

""I long, my darling, to know the touch of your ...," Magnussen said and he paused briefly, then continued "... body,""

"I know what was in the letters," Lady Smallwood told him quietly.

"She was fifteen," Magnussen told her, delighting in watching her squirm.

"She looked older," Lady Smallwood said in defence of her husband.

"Oh, she looked delicious. We have photographs, too – the ones she sent him," Magnussen said, smacking his lips. "Yum yum."

"He was unaware of her age. He met her only once before the letters began. When he discovered the truth, he stopped immediately. Those are the facts," Lady Smallwood told him as she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

"Facts are for history books. I work in news," Magnussen reminded her as she should have known since she was one of the people who was interrogating him.

"Your hand is sweating," Lady Smallwood said in disgust.

"Always, I'm afraid. I have a condition," Magnussen apologized, not really sounding sorry at all.

"It's disgusting," Lady Smallwood said as she grimaced.

"Ah, I'm used to it," Magnussen said with a slight shrug and he stroked his finger across the top of her hand. "The whole world is wet to my touch."

"I will call someone. I will have you removed," Lady Smallwood threatened him and she tried to withdraw her hand from his but he clamped his fingers around it.

"What is that?" Magnussen asked her and he gently lifted her hand, turned it over, and then clamped his fingers around it again as he raised her wrist towards his face and sniffed it. "Claire de la Lune?" He asked and he looked up at her. "A bit young for you, isn't it?" He mused and she finally managed to pull her hand free and flailed towards him but he seized her arm and held it still.  
>"You want to hit me now? Could you, still? You're an old lady now. Perhaps you should settle for calling someone," Magnussen said in amusement and she tugged her hand free and this time he released it. She looked away. "Well? Go on," Magnussen encouraged her and she continued to look away from him. "No? Because now there are consequences. I have the letters and therefore I have you."<p>

"This is blackmail," Lady Smallwood said, finally speaking and Magnussen frowned slightly and tilted his head to the side.

"Of course it isn't blackmail. This is ... ownership," Magnussen corrected her as if she was a small child who couldn't understand and she finally turned back to glare at him.

"You do not own me," Lady Smallwood spat and the attendant walked across the room towards them but stopped some distance away. Magnussen's eyes turned briefly, hearing his footsteps, but otherwise he took no notice of him. Instead, he half-raised, leaned towards Lady Smallwood, stuck out his tongue and ran the tip of it up the side of her face. She cringed and he sat back down.

"Claire de la Lune," Magnussen mused as he picked up a paper napkin from the tray on her table, stuck his tongue out again and rubbed the napkin over it. "It never tastes like it smells, does it?" He asked her as Lady Smallwood stared ahead of herself. He put the napkin down, gave her one last look, and then stood and walked away. "Lady Smallwood's bill is on me. See to it," Magnussen told the attendant who nodded at him.

"Yes, Mr. Magnussen," The attendant answered him as Lady Smallwood lowered her head and let out a shuddering breath.

Later, she was being driven home. Sitting in the back of her Rolls Royce, she was holding an open compact mirror in one hand and had a handkerchief pressed to the side of her face where Magnussen licked it. She breathed out shakily.

"Oh, God," She said quietly in disgust and horror. Her chauffeur looked in his rear view mirror at her.

"You all right, ma'am?" He asked her worriedly and she looked over at him and nodded, regaining her composure slightly.

"Fine, yes," She answered him quickly and she lowered the handkerchief and looked at herself in her compact mirror. "Magnussen," She spat, softly, angrily. Furiously she snapped the compact closed. "No-one stands up to him. No-one dares. No-one even tries," She said slightly louder to herself. She picked up her ornate bottle of Claire de la Lune perfume from her handbag and started spraying herself with it. "There isn't a man or woman in England capable of stopping that disgusting creature ..," She continued before she stopped, staring out of the window blankly for a moment as she realized that she was wrong. There was actually one man and woman who might be able to do such a feat. They had just been in the papers too, **"Net Detectives Marry In Secret Ceremony: Murder and Mayhem Run Rampant At Reception."** If anyone could stop Magnussen it was them.

"Ma'am?" Her chauffeur asked her and she looked back at him with a determined look on her face.

"Turn the car around. We're going back into town. Turn around," She ordered him and the chauffeur did a U-turn and started driving back the way they had just come.

"Where are we going, ma'am?" The chauffeur asked her wonderingly.

"Baker Street," Lady Smallwood told him before she set her jaw. Yes, Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna, now Lexi Holmes might just be the people who were capable of stopping Magnussen once and for all.

**John's POV**

**One & A Half Months Later…**

John and Mary were asleep in bed, Mary's hand resting on top of John's on top of the covers. John's hand twitched as his dream flashed back to his time in Afghanistan and he heard gunfire and explosions and saw his comrades fall and grimace in pain around him. He shook his head in his sleep and his dream moved to a flashback of Sherlock and Lexi during their first meeting at Baker Street.

_"You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor," Sherlock said as soon as the two detectives entered the living room again. Lexi crossed her arms and popped her hip to the right as she stood next to Sherlock. _

_"Yes," John said upon taking notice of them. He got to his feet and turned towards the two detectives as they walked over to John and stood in front of him. _

_"Any good?" Lexi asked John with a raised eyebrow. _

_"Very good," John told her as he met her challenge. _

_"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths?" Sherlock asked him carrying on with their duel interrogation._

_"Mmm, yes," John hummed with a nod. _

_"Bit of trouble too, I bet," Lexi said as Sherlock caught her eye and they shared a look for a brief moment. _

_"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much," John said quietly trying to convince himself. He couldn't resist it though. He missed the danger of the chase far too much to back down. _

In the Watsons' bedroom there was a pounding sound nearby, as if someone was knocking on the front door

_"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi tried to hide her smile. _

_"Oh God, yes," John told them fervently without a seconds thought. Sherlock and Lexi turned on their heels and headed back down the stairs as John followed after them. Sherlock and Lexi glanced back at each other briefly to smile at each other in triumph._

The banging sound came again and John jolted and sat up in bed. Half asleep, in his mind's eye he could see Sherlock looking intensely at him as Lexi grinned beside him. "The game is on," Sherlock said before he smiled and pulled Lexi off with him. John woke up properly and threw back the covers. Now wearing a dressing gown over his night clothes, he went to the front door where someone was still knocking. He opened the door and saw a woman standing there looking back at him. She had clearly been crying for some time.

"I know it's early," She said tearfully before she started to cry again. "Really, I'm sorry," She apologized as John stared at her a little blankly. Mary came into view at the end of the hall, putting her dressing gown on and she peered down the hall as John tried to figure out who the woman was, suddenly feeling a bit like Sherlock when he claimed that he deleted some knowledge.

"Is that Kate?" Mary asked him and John perked up a little bit at having been given a name. He remembered a Kate from somewhere. He remembered a Kate from the case of the Woman. She was her maid, or girlfriend, or personal assistant…something.

"Y-yeah, it's Kate," John said, coming back to the present as Kate sobbed on their doorstep, holding a paper tissue to her nose.

"Invite her in?" Mary suggested, seeing that he had gone a bit blank again.

"Er, sorry, yes. D-d'you wanna come in, Kate?" John asked her and he stepped aside and Kate walked down the hall towards Mary, still crying.

"Hey ...," Mary said sympathetically as she looked back at John and he sighed, closing his eyes before closing the door and resting his head against it for a long moment before he followed Mary and …Kate into the living room.

Later, Mary and Kate were sitting on the sofa and Mary was stroking Kate's arm while she continued to cry. John had retreated to the kitchen, unsure what his role was in this current situation and he still wasn't sure how to handle crying women. Lexi normally handled the clients who started crying but she wasn't here right now. In fact, she hadn't been there for him in over a month. It wasn't that he couldn't not go without seeing her or Sherlock, he knew things would have changed now that they were married, but he didn't get a call or a text from them and they didn't even come round to see him. He thought maybe they were so caught up in being married they might have forgotten about him as that could actually happen so he had gone round to their flat but Mrs. Hudson told him that she hadn't seen them for days. When he had gone again and found them out for a second time she told him that they were always out of the flat these days and that was "married life." According to her they were off on day trips and going round the city together. John was happy for them and happy that Sherlock seemed to be more romantic now that he and Lexi were married but he missed his mates. Married life was good but…he missed the cases. He loved Mary but…he missed the danger. It was all getting the shopping and going to work and coming home and talking about how their days were and then they would have dinner, now they ate in instead of getting take out, and then it was some crap telly and bed. Lexi used to cook some nights instead of them getting take out but now it was so domestic and John had to remind himself that he wasn't a bachelor any more. He wasn't living with Sherlock and Lexi anymore so things had changed.

"It's all right," Mary soothed Kate as John sighed, knowing he couldn't avoid them much longer, before he came over and put two mugs onto the coffee table.

"There you go," John said as he looked up and tried to be as quiet as possible as he let Mary handle everything like Lexi normally would have.

"It's Isaac," Mary told him and John nodded, trying to recall who Isaac was.

"Ah, your husband," John said, going with the most obvious conclusion or well, the conclusion Sherlock and Lexi would have come to.

"Son," Mary corrected him quickly.

"Son, yeah," John said scratching his head slightly as he could almost hear Lexi snickering in his head over his blunder and her saying something about him being very smooth.

"He's gone missing again. Didn't come home last night," Kate said and Mary let out a sympathetic sigh and looked at John.

"The usual," Mary told him and John tried to figure out what that meant.

"He's the drugs one, yeah?" John asked her in confusion. He remembered something about a Kate whose son was into drugs. He started to pace back and forth while Kate broke down in tears again.

"Er, yeah, nicely put, John," Mary answered him and John looked at her sheepishly before he turned to look at Kate.

"Look, is it Sherlock and Lexi Holmes you want? Because I've not seen them in ages," John told Kate as he sighed heavily. That was part of his problem. He hadn't seen his two best mates in a very long time. He knew that some things would change after the wedding but he didn't think he would stop seeing them both completely. Not even Lexi had come round for a visit. Seriously, not even Lexi and she should have been the one person he was assured would visit him what with Mary being pregnant and the fact that she claimed he was like a brother to her.

"In over a month. Not since the wedding actually," Mary said, frowning slightly as she realized this too and John continued pacing, the fingers of his left hand twitching. That was something he noticed kept happening over the last month and a half. That and he had started to limp again.

"Who are Sherlock and Lexi Holmes?" Kate asked him as she looked up and Mary looked over at John with a little smirk on her face.

"See? That does happen," Mary told him and John shook his head at her ever so slightly.

"There's a – a place they all go to, him and his ... friends," Kate told the both of them. "They all ... do whatever they do ... shoot up, whatever you call it," She finished as she looked away a bit in embarrassment.

"Where is he?" John asked her. He wasn't just going to let a perfectly good kid sit in a drug den and ruin his life. Sherlock and Lexi managed to get off the drugs and stay off of them and now they had a professional consulting business. Isaac had as much as a chance as they did and a bright future ahead of him. John could probably get Lexi to talk to him too. She didn't like talking about her past but if it was to help a kid get off drugs he knew she would. At least it might be a way of getting to see her.

"It's a house. It's a dump. I mean, it's practically falling down," Kate told him and John shook his head at her.

"No, the address," John told her and Mary turned and looked and him in confusion. "Where, exactly?" John asked her and once she had given him the address, he went and got dressed and grabbed his coat, his limp completely disappearing as he walked right past the metal cane by the door that he had started to use again over the last month and out of his and Mary's house. He walked down the path outside the house and headed towards their car parked at the curb while Mary, still in her pyjamas and dressing gown, followed after him.

"Seriously?" Mary asked him in exasperation and he turned back to her as he walked.

"Why not? She's not going to the police. Someone's got to get him," John told her as he tried to make it clear to her why he needed to get the boy out. It reminded him too much of Sherlock and Lexi and right now that was a very difficult subject for him. He had gotten a few text from Sherlock and Lexi yes, but that was it. He hadn't seen them in a month and a half, nearly two months now and he…missed them. He honestly missed them. As much as Sherlock was an annoying prat he missed him and he missed Lexi's laughter and her cooking and just her bright personality.

"Why you?" Mary asked him as she stopped at the gate as John continued on.

"I'm being neighbourly," John told her even though it was mostly a lie. He was doing this to be neighbourly but he had other reasons as well.

"Since when?" Mary asked him, sounding rather surprised and John chuckled briefly.

"Since now. Since this exact minute," John told her and Mary shook her head at him slightly.

"Why are you being so ...?" She asked him as she twirled her hands expressively.

"What?" John asked her, stopping at the driver's door and turning back to her.

"I dunno. What's the matter with you?" Mary asked him as she looked at him worriedly.

"There is nothing the matter with me," John told her loudly. "Imagine I said that without shouting," John said quickly, less forcefully.

"I'm trying. This is about them isn't it?" She asked him and John nodded slightly before Mary walked briskly towards the passenger side of the car.

"No, you can't come. You're pregnant," John protested quickly.

"You can't go. I'm pregnant," Mary told him as she opened the passenger door and got in, shutting the door. John looked away for a moment, then got into the car smiling to himself. It was exactly what Lexi would have done. Later, they had parked on a piece of concreted waste ground outside the address Kate gave them. John got out and opened the boot of the car, walking around to the back and taking something out before he walked round to the passenger side. Mary laughed and pointed at what he was tucking into the top of his jeans. "What is that?!" Mary asked him as she continued to giggle.

"It's a tyre lever," John told her in exasperation.

"Why?" Mary asked him as she smiled up at him from inside the car and John nodded towards the house.

"'Cause there were loads of smackheads in there, and one of them might need help with a tyre. If there's any trouble, just go. I'll be fine," John told her before he turned and started to walk towards the house, but Mary got out of the car.

"Er, John, John, John, John," Mary called after him and John stopped and turned back to her. "It is a tiny bit sexy," She told him with a toothy smile and then she smirked at him like the cat that ate the canary.

"Yeah, I know," He told her nonchalantly like Sherlock would have, smirking a bit, before he turned around and walked across to the front of the house which had a large sign stuck to the front of it saying, "PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT," and banged loudly on the door. "Hello?" John called and the door was opened by a young man wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up over his head. He looks scruffy and dirty and exactly like the sort of person Jon expected to find in a crack house.

"What d'you want?" The man demanded but John was not in the mood to be polite and deal with drug addicts this morning.

"'Scuse me," He told the man before he barged his way in and walked down the hall. The man looked outside for a moment, then turned towards John.

"Naah, naah, you can't come in 'ere!" He called after John who looked into a room as he walked past it.

"I'm looking for a friend," John told him as he continued on, looking into doorways as he went. "A very specific friend – I'm not just browsing," He continued as he reached the last room and looked in there before he started walking back again when he didn't see Isaac, who Kate had showed him a picture of.

"You've gotta go. No-one's allowed 'ere," The man told him quickly which was a bit strange, no one was allowed in a drug den where people went to do drugs. The logic in that sentence was all flawed and he could just see Lexi rolling her eyes before she made some sort of witty comeback to tell the boy while Sherlock would just smirk beside her proudly.

"Isaac Whitney. You seen him?" John asked, ignoring everything else the man had said as he stopped several paces away from the druggie and cleared his throat. The man took a flick-knife from his pocket and snapped the blade open, holding it towards John. "I'm asking you if you've seen Isaac Whitney, and now you're showing me a knife. Is it a clue?" John asked him sarcastically and the drug addict gestured with his knife towards the open door behind him. He felt sort of like Lexi, making sarcastic comments to criminals. In this case it wasn't really a criminal and more like a wanna be bad boy druggie but Lexi would have told him he had to start somewhere to get up to her level of sassery. "Are you doing a mime? You should really meet my friend Lexi, she loves mimes," John said as he thought about how many times Lexi had made deductions that she claimed involved a mime before they finally found one.

"Go. Or I'll cut you," The man threatened him and John chuckled slightly. Lexi would have had a field day with this man. First thing she would have done was throw her shoes at him and then she would knock him on his arse.

"Ooh, not from there. Let me help," John told him before he walked closer, stopping close enough to the man that he could stab him if he wanted to. The man, more like a young boy stared back at him wide-eyed as if he wasn't expecting him to fight back. "Now, concentrate," John told him, now in full solider mode. "Isaac Whitney," He said slowly and precisely.

"Okay, you asked for it," The druggie told him and before he could even think about moving, John lashed out with his left hand, seizing the boy's right arm and slamming his right hand down onto the arm. As the boy cried out in pain John wrapped his right hand round the front of his neck and slammed him against the wall, then used his right foot to sweep his feet from under him. The boy slumped to the floor and John stepped back. The boy choked and groaned in pain as John bent down and picked up the flick-knife which had fallen to the floor.

"Right," John said as he squatted down next to the boy. "Are you concentrating yet?" John asked him.

"You broke my arm!" The boy shouted as he clutched it to his side.

"No, I sprained it," John corrected him as he looked all around to make sure there was no-one else nearby.

"It feels squishy! Is it supposed to feel squishy?" The boy asked him as he held his right arm out to John. "Feel that!" The boy demanded and John reached out and squeezed the arm. Bill groaned in pain.

"Yeah, it's a sprain. I'm a doctor – I know how to sprain people. You're lucky it was just me here and not my friend as well," John assured him as he released the arm and the boy groaned again. "Now where is Isaac Whitney?" John asked him again.

"I don't know!" The boy told him and John fixed him with a pointed look that he had often seen Lexi giving Sherlock. He now knew that it was considered to be the wife look by many people and Mary had used it on him a few times. "Maybe upstairs," The boys said, changing his mind quickly.

"There you go," John said and he patted the boy's leg. "Wasn't that easy?" He asked and he stood up and walked towards the stairs.

"No. It's really sore. You're mental, you are," The boy said grumpily.

"No. Just used to a better class of criminal. That and I've been taught a thing or two from an Irish woman," John muttered pocketing the flick-knife as he went. He walked up the stairs and into a large room at the top. Several people were lying or sitting on mattresses around the edge of the room. All of them looked very stoned and unaware of what was going on in the real world. John wondered for a moment if this is what Lexi and Sherlock looked like when they were using drugs before. Grimacing, John walked slowly across the room. "Isaac? Isaac Whitney?" John asked as he walked over to three people lying side by side on mattresses, one of the figures was smaller and more feminine and tucked into the side of the person between her and the other person on the mattress. That wasn't unheard of, a couple who got into drugs together. "Isaac?" John asked again quietly and one of them tiredly raised a hand. The young man gazed blearily up at John as he walked to his side and kneeled down beside him. "Hello, mate," John said gently as he put a supporting hand behind his back. "Sit up for me? Sit up," John told the boy as he helped him to sit, then lifted one of his eyelids. The boy's eyes rolled uncontrollably and he tried to focus on John.

"Doctor Watson?" Isaac asked him blearily.

"Yep," John told him, lifting his other eyelid.

"Where am I?" Isaac asked him and John sighed.

"The arse-end of the universe with the scum of the Earth. Look at me," John told him as the feminine figure on the mattress moved slightly, drawing his attention as the person groaned, obviously waking up as they covered their head over with their arms, wrapping the hood of their hoodie tighter around their head.

"Have you come for me?" Isaac asked him and John nodded.

"D'you think I know a lot of people here?!" John joked and Isaac laughed hazily. "Hey, all right?" John asked him as on the mattress to Isaac's right and behind John, another person, wearing jogging bottoms and a jacket with the hood up, rolled over, propped himself onto one elbow and looked round to them. The feminine figure, wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, rolled with him and the man wrapped his arm around her waist as her hoodie rode up a bit, revealing a rose tattoo on her left side. She blinked several times, her elbow resting on the man's chest as she propped her head up.

"Ah, hello, John," Sherlock said and John raised his head, his eyes widening in shock.

"Really, the arse-end of the universe with the scum of the Earth?" Lexi asked him, snorting, as she blinked back at him, her gaze slightly unfocused and her accent rather thick. She shook her head at him, a few strands of her hair falling out of her hood. "By the way, hello," She added as she waved at him slightly with the tips of her fingers.

"Didn't expect to see you here,"' Sherlock said as he pushed his hood back before frowning and pushing Lexi's down as well, revealing her face, some stands of her hair falling free from her very messy bun. He grinned at her lopsidedly and she giggled at him as John turned round to look at them.

"Well, I think hoped is the better adjective in this situation love," Lexi told him and he hummed in agreement before they looked back at John and Sherlock squinched up his eyes and peered at him.

"Did you come for us, too?" Sherlock asked John and John looked at him for a second, then his eyes begin to narrow.

"Oh don't give me that look Watson," Lexi said and John glared at her darkly. "Wait are you constipated? Might just be that. I never could tell that look from your angry expression."

"Lexi, don't you dare…," John warned her and she raised her eyebrow at him, surprising John. Apparently she wasn't as spaced out as normal people when she was high.

"Here we go," Lexi said before she looked down at Sherlock and leaned down kissing him lightly before he wrapped his arm around her tighter and pulled her in for a deeper kiss. She giggled as they broke apart before she groaned and pulled herself upright. "Well, we're busted," Lexi said as she pulled her hair out of its bun and it cascaded down her back in tangled waves. "Coming love?" She asked Sherlock as she bounced up to her feet, swaying slightly as she looked down at her husband.

"Well I'm enjoying the view," Sherlock said as he looked up at her and she rolled her eyes at him before holding out a hand to him. She pulled him up before he tackled her and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply again.

"Both of you, out now!" John demanded as he got to his feet, helping Isaac up and forcing the two detective out of the room in front of him. Isaac managed to get in front of them and headed out first as the three of them started arguing. "A drug den! This is why I haven't heard from you in over a month!?" John shouted at the two detectives as they leaned on each other and helped each other walk forward. "Oh no this is rich! This is bloody brilliant!" John shouted at the two of them and Lexi turned around.

"Shush! I have a headache!" Lexi shouted back at him.

"It's for a case John!" Sherlock also yelled back at him before he kissed the side of Lexi's head. She smiled at him and nuzzled her head into his shoulder affectionately.

"Oh a case, right!" John shouted before Lexi and Sherlock both turned back to him.

"Shut up!" They shouted in unison before they continued walking.

**Third Person POV**

Outside shortly afterwards, Isaac stumbled over to the car where Mary was now sitting in the driver's seat.

"Hallo, Isaac," Marry greeted him calmly, wanting to know that he wasn't in any trouble.

"Mrs. Watson, can I – can I get in, please?" Isaac asked her blurrily and Mary nodded, pointing her thumb behind her to the back seat.

"Yes, of course, get in. Where's John?" Mary asked him a little worriedly. She knew John could take care of himself, especially after having been with Sherlock and Lexi for so long but she didn't like the fact that he was still inside.

"They're 'avin' a fight," Isaac told her as he opened the rear car door and got in.

"Who is?" Mary asked him urgently before she turned back to the front of the house. On the first floor landing of the fire escape, Sherlock angrily punched open a temporary door which had been nailed across a doorway, Lexi helping him with a well-aimed kick, the two detectives knocking off all its nails and sending it crashing across the fire escape. Lexi hissed slightly and cringed away from the sunlight as she instantly threw up her hood again.

"For God's sakes, John! We're on a case!" Sherlock said angrily as he pulled Lexi closer to him, rubbing her hand comfortingly. She had a headache since that morning that had turned into a migraine from lack of sleep. She would only sleep in the flat and while Sherlock found it easier to stay awake for long period of time, he was starting to feel rather exhausted as well.

"A month – that's all it took. One," John said, not even counting the little bit of extra time as he followed them down the fire escape. Halfway down, Sherlock let go of Lexi's hand and vaulted over the side of the fire escape and onto the wall beside it.

"Like we need a babysitter John. Two years we survived all on our own. We are capable adults and can more than well look after ourselves," Lexi called back to him as Sherlock looked back up at her she nodded at him and grinned before she jumped down beside him, slightly more elegantly than he had.

"We're working," Sherlock called back to John and then he jumped down onto the top of a wheelie bin beside the wall and then down onto another one laying on its side before stepping to the ground. He looked back as Lexi followed his path and he caught her by the waist and lowered her down beside him so that she wouldn't hurt herself. John followed them, though a lot less gracefully.

"Or we we're trying to," Lexi complained as she pulled a face and Sherlock kissed her nose. She relaxed slightly as he took her hand in his again.

"Sherlock and Lexi Holmes in a drug den! How's that gonna look?" John asked them and Lexi sighed heavily and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"We don't care what it looks like John," Lexi told John in exasperation. "Besides we're undercover," She told him and John threw his hands in the air.

"No you're not!" John shouted at the both of them.

"Well, we're not now!" Sherlock said, gesticulating angrily, but never letting go of Lexi's hand. Mary had driven the car quickly towards the house, and she pulled up alongside them with a squeal of brakes.

"In. The three of you, quickly," Mary told them sternly and Lexi waved at her, smiling sheepishly.

"Hi Mary," Lexi said cheerfully as John got into the passenger seat and Sherlock opened the door and slid into the seat behind him, pulling Lexi on top of his lap even though she could have sat in the middle seat. She giggled slightly as the boy from before hurried over towards the car, cradling his hurt arm. Mary sighed in exasperation at her boys and her pseudo sister, then turned to look through the front windscreen at the new arrival standing in front of the car.

"Please. Can I come? I think I've got a broken arm," The boys asked Mary as Lexi righted herself in the back and looked to see who was talking.

"No. Go away," Mary told him but John shook his head slightly.

"No, let him," He told Mary, grimacing slightly.

"Why?" Mary asked him in exasperation.

"Yeah, just get in. It's a sprain," John told the boy, leaning out of the open side window and pointing towards the rear of the car. He ran round to the side of the car as Mary looked over at John and snorted.

"Anyone else? I mean, we're taking everybody home, are we?" Mary asked him and sighing, Sherlock shifted himself and Lexi to the centre of the rear seat to give the boy some room. The boy got in and looked round at the two of them.

"All right, Shezza? Xia?" The boy asked them as Lexi took his arm in her hand and looked it over, tutting a bit. He complained slightly, but John was surprised when he let her handle his arm. Not only that but she seemed to even know who the boys was.

""Shezza"? "Xia?"" John asked the two detectives incredulously.

"We were undercover," Sherlock told him tetchily.

"Seriously – "Shezza" "Xia", though?!" Mary asked them giggling a bit and Lexi and Sherlock sighed in unison.

"They were our undercover names when we were dismantling Moriarty's web. I was given mine in China and Sherlock got his while we were in Cairo," Lexi explained and John cringed slightly at that revelation. Lexi kept bring up those two years in the last few minutes.

"We're not going home. We're going to Bart's. I'm calling Molly," John said as he turned back round to the front and got out his phone and in the rear seat, Sherlock started to wipe some of the dirt off his face with a handkerchief. He turned to Lexi and started wiping her face for her before kissing her forehead and nuzzling his face into her hair, despite the fact that they were both dirty. They had looked a lot worse before, especially in Serbia.

"Why?" Mary asked him in confusion and Lexi raised her eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest, holding onto Sherlock's arms which were around her waist.

"Yes John, do tell me, why?" Lexi asked him, her tone light and slightly icy.

"Lexi, don't start with me," John told her as he brought his phone up to his ear. He held it up as he turned to look over his shoulder at his two best friends before directing the rest of the sentence to Mary. "Because Sherlock and Lexi Holmes need to pee in a jar," John said and Sherlock lowered his handkerchief and closed his eyes with exasperation as Lexi rolled her eyes and fixed John with a look in the rear-view mirror.

"I hate you," Lexi said and John looked back at her, shaking his head slightly.

"No you don't," John told her and she shrugged slightly at him.

"I might, at some point," Lexi told him, sighing heavily and Mary drove them all away. Lexi pulled her mobile out from her hoodie and typed on it for a few seconds before stowing it away. For the rest of the ride to Bart's she fixed John with an icy look which the army doctor was smart enough to avoid by staring straight forward.

Later, in the lab at Bart's, Molly was finishing her tests on Sherlock and Lexi's urine samples which they had given begrudgingly. Between Molly, Mary, and John they didn't have a choice however though Lexi said she could do something id she wanted to. The two detective were currently standing nearby, Sherlock leaning back against the central bench and looking sulky as Lexi's back was pressed up against his chest. He rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. On the other side of the lab the boy they had taken with them was sitting on a side bench while Mary wrapped a bandage round his arm. Isaac was also sitting nearby. Molly took off her gloves with two loud snaps, signalling her annoyance as she finished the tests, getting the results.

"Well? Are they clean?" John asked her and she threw down her gloves as she turned to him.

"Clean?" She laughed before she turned and walked over to Sherlock and Lexi who had shifted so they were standing next to each other, their arms still wrapped around each other, and slapped the both of them hard round the face, first Sherlock and then Lexi. Mary, the boy, and Isaac looked over to them in surprise as Molly slapped the both of them again just as hard and then, for good measure, slapped them again with her left hand. Sherlock blinked and grimaced as Lexi opened and closed her mouth and then massaged her jaw.

"I see you took a few of my talks a little too literally. How much did Joanna teach you?" Lexi asked as she rubbed her face but Molly ignored her.

"How dare you two throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?" Molly shouted at the both of them and she glanced briefly towards John and then looked back at Sherlock and Lexi. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry," Molly ordered from the both of them and Lexi narrowed her eyes slightly.

"No, I would quite like an apology from all of you," Lexi said, her tone icy as she shoot a glare at John.

"If you two were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called, you could have talked to me," John said and that was when Lexi started walking closer to him, shouting at him as she went.

"Seriously John. Do you really think that all it takes is a month and a half for us to fall apart? We aren't doing drugs again! You of all people should believe us! I would have thought out of everyone that you could have been the one person who would have known the truth who would have known for a fact that Sherlock and I would have never relapsed. You should be the one person that knows us! Two years John. We spent two years away from London, away from you, making you think we were dead just to protect you. Even after everything with Irene I didn't relapse so why would I now?! Why would I ever let Sherlock get back into the drugs again either?!" Lexi yelled at the army doctor angrily and Sherlock let her get it out for several seconds before he stepped forward and grabbed her around the waist, turning her back to face him.

"Lexi, it's alright," He told her, tangling his fingers into her hair and stroking her cheek before he kissed her forehead.

"No, it's not alright!" Lexi said passionately and Sherlock hugged her tightly as everyone watched her shocked by her outburst. "After everything we've done, the cases, Moriarty, jumping off of a fucking building to protect the people we love…you would think that someone would understand us. I thought you did John," Lexi finished, breathing heavily as she turned to the army doctor with the saddest expression ever. "It's all for a case. It's not even our urine. I texted the Homeless Network in the car and they got it to us because we can't have our cover blown by having anything put on record. If you tested more of it than just what you expected to find you would notice that it is from the same person for each sample who also has Cytoxan in their system. It's a Cancer drug. I assure you, neither Sherlock nor I have Cancer but you're welcome to perform more tests if you want," Lexi said as Sherlock held her tightly and tried to calm her down. He kissed her head again and rubbed her arm as John, Mary, and Molly looked at the two detectives guilty. Lexi was right, they had jumped to the wrong conclusion first rather than listening to what Sherlock or Lexi were trying to tell them.

"I am sorry your engagement's over – though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring," Sherlock said, speaking up and he smirked slightly as he reached up and rubbed his face again. Molly opened and closed her mouth before sighing in irritation. She smiled slightly however as Sherlock rested his chin on top of Lexi's head and looked over at John. "Please do relax. This is all for a case," Sherlock assured them all again and Mary, still wrapping the boy's arm, shook her head.

"A ca... What kind of case would need you doing this?" John asked the two detectives in confusion and Lexi tilted her head to the side a bit.

"One that would be going better if we were still undercover right now," Lexi told him, her tone still a bit off. She pursed her lips but John saw that she was lightening up a bit. He knew that it would take some amount of grovelling before he was able to get back into her good graces. He had really pissed her off and he was really lucky that Sherlock was here. He had just assumed that they had relapsed, he never once believed that… well they did have a history with drugs and they both were in a drug den and looked, well like druggies.

"We might as well ask you why you've started cycling to work," Sherlock said and John saw Lexi smirk slightly which made him hopeful.

"Leave me out of this husband," Lexi said, reaching up on her toes to kiss Sherlock's cheek, but he swooped down and kissed her soundly instead. She giggled slightly as Molly shot them a soft expression. She had broken off her engagement with Tom shortly after the wedding and after talking with Joanna about it. Currently she had gone one or two dates with Detective Inspector Lestrade who was very nice to her and whom Joanna had told her to "go forth and get that booty my child." They had hit it off very well at the wedding and Molly found that she quite liked spending time with him. He was strong and she sort of liked that.

"No. We're not playing this game," John told them, shaking his head and he turned and walked away from them.

"Quite recently, I'd say. You're very determined about it," Sherlock continued and Lexi chuckled slightly, staying out of it, but enjoying the fact that John was getting the mickey taken out of him a little bit. She wasn't angry at him anymore but she wouldn't let him know that just yet. She wanted to see him squirm just a little bit longer. She never could stay mad at her boys for long anyway.

"Not interested," John told them and the boy they had taken with them that John had hurt spoke up.

"I am," He said and Sherlock and Lexi turned to look at him.

"Of course you are, we taught you well," Lexi said and the boy smiled at her before he looked down at Mary who was still bandaging his arm and badly. "Ow," He complained.

"Oh, sorry. You moved. But it is just a sprain," Mary told him as Lexi kissed Sherlock's cheek and then moved towards the both of them.

"Let me Mary," Lexi said as she took the bandage from her and started to unravel it.

"Yeah. Somebody 'it me," The boy told Mary who made a questioning sound. The boy turned his head to look at John and Lexi smirked, something that John didn't miss. "Eh, just some guy," The boy said and Lexi pursed her lips and nodded.

"Yeah, just some guy," Lexi said and she nudged the boy slightly. He shared a conspiratorial look with her and John got the bad feeling that he was some sort of protégé of hers.

"Yeah, probably just an addict in need of a fix," John said and Lexi turned and looked over at him, studying him and rising her eyebrow.

"Yes. I think, in a way, it was," Sherlock said pointedly, looking directly at John. John held his eyes for a moment, then looked away.

"And we are sorry about that, but it couldn't be helped," Lexi said and John looked over at her and he noticed that she was looking down at her leg. She smiled at him and John knew that he was forgiven.

"Xia? Is it his shirt?" The boy suddenly asked Lexi and she turned back to him, raising her eyebrow as she hummed questioningly.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked as he looked round at him too.

"What was that sweetie?" Lexi asked the boy and John realized that she did care for the boy. He must have been a member of their Homeless Network which was why he hadn't let anyone upstairs. He was keeping Lexi and Sherlock undercover. Well, at least they did have people they could trust even if they were drug addicts. John never understood the Homeless Network but Lexi said they were indispensable for knowledge as they were actually quite brilliant people and that without them they wouldn't have made it through the two years they were away from London.

"Well, it's the creases, innit?" The boy asked them and he looked across to John. Sherlock and Lexi did likewise and zoomed in on the creases in his shirt. "The two creases down the front. It's been recently folded but it's not new," The boy continued and Sherlock smiled slightly as Lexi shot him an encouraging look and nodded for him to continue. "Must have dressed in a hurry this morning ...so all your shirts must be kept like that," The boy said and John stared at him in confusion. "But why? Maybe 'cause you cycle to work every morning, shower when you get there an' then dress in the clothes you brought with you," The boy said and Sherlock looked at him, clearly impressed while Lexi smiled at him like a proud mother might. "You keep your shirts folded ...ready to pack," The boy finished, still looking at John.

"Not bad," Sherlock told him as Lexi walked around and pulled out a few more medical supplies to fix the boys arm up.

"An' I further deduce ...," The boy said and Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and he and John exchanged a brief glance as Lexi fixed the boy with a despairing look, knowing he was trying to show off a bit now because they were impressed with him. "...you've only started recently, because you've got a bit of chafing," The boy finished and John looked down his body.

"No – he's always walked like that. Remind me – what's your name again?" Sherlock asked the boy as Lexi laughed loudly and started wrapping his army up a lot more efficiently than Mary had been.

"They call me The Wig," The boy said and Lexi raised her eyebrow at him.

"No they don't," Sherlock told him as the boy looked down at Lexi.

"Well, they-they call me Wiggy," The boy said awkwardly and Lexi's eyebrow raised further.

"No," Lexi said at the same time Sherlock said "Nope.

"Bill. Bill Wiggins," The boy told them hesitating, then looking down.

"Nice observational skills, Billy," Sherlock complimented him as Lexi finished with his arm.

"Sherlock's right honey, you did a good job. And for the record, I remembered your name. Now, your arm's all set. It should heal in a few days but I want you to be careful while using it," Lexi told him as she patted him on the shoulder and then started cleaning up the supplies.

"Yes, ma'am," The boy, Billy, told her politely and she smiled back at him as John was shocked by how well-mannered he actually was. Sherlock's phone suddenly sounded a text alert and he took it out and looked at the message as Lexi's trilled as well.

"Ah! Finally," Sherlock said and Lexi joined him again which made the detective a lot happier. He didn't even like her being across the room from him.

"Brilliant timing," Lexi grinned as she pulled out her own mobile and checked it.

""Finally" what?" Molly asked them curiously.

"Good news?" Billy asked them. The two detectives had become like his teachers in the last month and Xia, Lexi, had even been helping him cut back on the drugs. The more he cut back, the more she would teach him and he really wanted to learn. He had always had this gift, but he never knew how to use it.

"Oh, excellent news – the best," Sherlock said excitedly before he leaned down and kissed Lexi soundly, taking her hand in his before they turned and headed for the door, working on their phones. "There's every chance that our drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on," Sherlock said and Lexi threw back her head and laughed brightly. Raising his phone to his ear as they reached the door, they turned and looked round the room briefly. "Excuse us for a second," Sherlock said and Lexi waved at them, phone still in hand as she raised it to her own ear and they left the room together.

Later, he, Lexi, and John were alone in the back of a tax, Lexi tucked up in Sherlock's side like she normally was. Sherlock and Lexi were still in their scruffy clothes and Lexi had gotten some headache medicine from Molly before they had headed back to the flat.

"You've heard of Charles Augustus Magnussen, of course," Sherlock said suddenly and John looked over at him, not surprised by the sudden break in silence, having gotten used to it after how many years he had known the two detectives now.

"Yeah. Owns some newspapers – ones I don't read," John told them and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"We've been looking into him for some time. The last month and a half actually," Lexi told him as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. Sherlock frowned suddenly and looked round the cab and then out of the back window.

"Hang on – weren't there other people?" Sherlock asked Lexi and she giggled at him slightly and then kissed his cheek.

"No sweetie…they went somewhere. I wasn't paying attention at the time though. Joanie was texting me," Lexi said as she frowned herself and Sherlock kissed her nose. She smiled at him fondly before tucking her head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around her tighter and John smiled at the two of them.

"Mary's taking the boys home; I'm taking you two. We did discuss it," John told them and Sherlock raised his eyes upwards as if trying to remember. Lexi hummed slightly as she played with Sherlock's fingers and John noticed that the one thing they hadn't taken off were their wedding rings.

"People were talking, none of them me or Lexi. I must have filtered," Sherlock told John who nodded slightly.

"I noticed," John told him as he watched Sherlock play with Lexi's hair.

"I have to filter out a lot of witless babble. I've got Mrs Hudson on semi-permanent mute," Sherlock said and Lexi nodded in agreement with him.

"I love her to bits, but I do too. It's worse now that we're married," Lexi told him and she looked up at Sherlock and they both grimaced as if remembering some conversation that Mrs. Hudson had had with them. The journey continued and the taxi eventually pulled up outside 221B Baker Street. As soon as he saw the closed front door, Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh.

"What is my brother doing here?' Sherlock asked tetchily and Lexi shrugged slightly as she pulled back and looked at the door.

"Well, he and Joanna did elope recently. They'll have wanted to pop in now that we've emerged," Lexi said and John blinked in shock at that bit of news. Mycroft had gotten married?! The Mycroft Holmes had actually gotten married. Made sense that he and Joanna had eloped though. He had noticed that Mycroft could barely stand having to deal with his parents at Sherlock and Lexi's wedding. Sherlock got out of the cab and headed for the front door. John called after him as Lexi slid out after him.

"So I'll just pay, then, shall I?" John asked them as Lexi leaned back into the cab and handed some bills off to the driver before she looked back at the army doctor.

"Don't worry, I got it. What else would I spend my drug money on?" She asked him before she straightened up and John spluttered as he followed her out of the cab.

"Look, I'm sorry…," John told her before he realized that she was hiding her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Sherlock went up onto the doorstep and glared up at the door knocker as Lexi padded over to him and John noticed for the first time that she was barefooted, as was Sherlock.

"He's straightened the knocker," Sherlock complained to Lexi and she sighed and then nodded at him, patting his arm comfortingly.

"I know sweetie," She told him and John somehow got the idea that they had had this conversation before now.

"He always corrects it. He's OCD. Doesn't even know he's doing it," Sherlock said and Lexi smiled at that and giggled.

"Joanie lets him too. Apparently he is brilliant at cleaning," Lexi said as Sherlock deliberately pushed the door knocker to one side, then let himself in, reaching back and taking Lexi's hand to pull her through the door with him.

"Why'd you do that?" John asked Sherlock and Lexi looked back at him and smirked.

"Why do they do anything John?" Lexi asked him with a laugh and John nodded at her in agreement.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked him, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Nothing," John told him as he and Lexi shared a conspiratorial look. They went inside, John shutting the door behind him, and Sherlock opened and went through the inner door with Lexi, then stops and rolled his eyes at the sight of Mycroft sitting on the stairs.

"Well, then, Sherlock, Lexi. Back on the sauce?" Mycroft asked the two of them as they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Actually no, not really Croft," Lexi told him as she rolled her eyes and Joanna appeared at the top of the stairs in her jeans and t shirt.

"Told you amante," Joanna told him as she walked downstairs to join him and he looked over his shoulder at her. "And please don't use that wording again. Seriously? Do Lexi and I need to have a talk with you and Sherlock?" She asked him and he shook his head at her slightly as she stopped just behind him and sat down, putting her legs over his knees and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked Mycroft coldly, ignoring his sister in law and her affectionate display towards his brother which nauseated him.

"I phoned him," John told him sheepishly and Lexi sighed and gave him a look. He looked away from her quickly and she shook her head as she looked over at Joanna.

"The siren call of old habits. How very like Uncle Rudy – though, in many ways, cross-dressing would have been a wiser path for you," Mycroft said as Joanna leaned around him and raised her eyebrow at him. She shook her head before kissing him again and settling back down against the stairs.

"I don't know. He's welcome to try on any of my dresses if he likes," I told Mycroft and Sherlock smirked at me slightly even if he was still annoyed at John. John choked back a laugh and I smiled at Joanna who shared a look with me as Mycroft rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"You phoned him," Sherlock demanded, folding his arms and directing his comment to John without looking at him.

"Of course he phone him sweetie. This is John "Let's All Jump To Conclusions" Watson we're talking about," Lexi said and John could tell that she was just taking the mickey out of him slightly and probably would for a while until she felt that he had been teased enough.

"'Course I bloody phoned him. I thought that you two were on drugs again," John told them and Joanna stood up and disentangled herself from Mycroft before she walked down the rest of the stairs, Mycroft reaching up and squeezing her hand as she passed by him, before she pulled Lexi in for a hug. She frowned slightly and picked up her hair, inspecting it. Lexi shrugged and slapped her hand away.

"'Course he bloody did. Now, save me a little time. Where should we be looking?" Mycroft asked them both as Joanna and Lexi turned to look at him, Joanna wrapping her arm around Lexi's shoulders.

""We"?" Sherlock asked his brother in confusion.

"Mr. Holmes? Mrs. Holmes?" Anderson's voice called from upstairs and Lexi and Joanna looked upwards and smiled together.

"Which one?" They called in unison before giggling. In the kitchen, Anderson closed the door to one of the cupboards in the kitchen and both of the detectives could hear it. Lexi suddenly balked and looked at Sherlock, sharing a long look with him before they both looked upwards towards their flat which they realized was currently being raided in another pretend drugs bust.

"For God's sake!" Sherlock shouted furiously, grabbing Lexi's hand and he stormed up the stairs with her, Mycroft sliding sideways on his step to get out of their way. Mycroft, Joanna, and John exchanged a look and John blew out a breath as Mycroft leaned on his umbrella to push himself to his feet. Sherlock went into the kitchen and glared at Anderson who was with a female colleague.

"Put the tea down," Lexi told her and the woman quickly put the tea jar she was holding down. Lexi was generally good natured, but one thing she didn't take kindly to was people going through their possessions and fake drug busts. Sherlock already knew that she was livid.

"Anderson," Sherlock spat angrily and Lexi turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"I'd say it's nice to see you Philip but it isn't," She told him and he raised his gloved hand at them apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, Lexi. It's for your own good," Anderson told them and Lexi rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"So people keep telling us," She told the forensics expert before she shouted something loudly in what sounded to everyone like Russian and Joanna and Mycroft winced down stairs as Sherlock rubbed Lexi's arm to calm her down. Looking annoyed, Sherlock dropped his keys onto the kitchen table as Anderson's colleague stared at them.

"Oh, that's them, isn't it?" The woman asked Anderson as Sherlock turned and stormed towards his armchair, where another member of the 'search team' was sitting and reading a book which Sherlock noticed was Lexi's book. Lexi sent the man one murderous look he hurriedly scrambled out of the chair as she snatched the book from him and out it back down on the table beside the chair. The man hurried away as Sherlock kissed Lexi's forehead, the Irish girl muttering curses under her breath in multiple languages. Sherlock flipped his hood and Lexi did the same before Sherlock climbed into the chair and pulled Lexi down with him. It was a tight fit and they were lying half on each other but neither of them actually cared. "You said they'd be taller."

"Some members of your little fan-club," Mycroft said as he and Joanna walked into the kitchen and looked towards Sherlock and Lexi. "Do be polite. They're entirely trustworthy, and even willing to search through the toxic waste dump that you are pleased to call a flat," Mycroft said before he clutched the back of his head as Joanna smacked him roughly. Sherlock and Lexi had shifted so that Sherlock was curled up sideways in their chair and now had his head on one of the arms, closing his eyes as he laid across Lexi's lap, the Irish girl lying backwards and closing her eyes as well, entirely spent and nearly ready to throw everyone out of their flat.

"Amante," Joanna warned and Mycroft nodded at her ever so slightly before he turned back to the two detectives.

"You're celebrities these days, Sherlock, Lexi. You can't afford a drug habit," Mycroft told them and Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at him irritatedly.

"We do not have a drug habit," Sherlock spat and Lexi opened her eyes and looked up at him glaring.

"And you would damn well know if I did Mycroft. I wouldn't look like this for one. I would have to be in a much darker place to even go near drugs again and right now I have my husband with me. There is no reason at all for me to do drugs. I am," Lexi said and she looked down at Sherlock who turned to look at her over his shoulder. "…and husband if you were unaware you shouldn't be, I am happier than I have ever been in my life. Drugs are the least of my concern right now and I am the farthest from relapsing than I can ever be in my life," Lexi assured all of them and Joanna smiled at her proudly before nudging Mycroft roughly in the ribs.

"Which is exactly what I told you amante. You would think you would listen to your wife every once in a while if anything than to not look like an idiot but no," Joanna said and Mycroft sighed heavily in exasperation and rolled his eyes as Joanna smirked up at him. While this was going on, John's attention was focussed on a large space between Sherlock's chair and the kitchen and he pointed to it.

"Hey, what happened to my chair?" John asked the two detective's.

"It was blocking my view to the kitchen and my view of Lexi cooking," Sherlock said and Lexi giggled underneath him.

"Well, it's good to be missed!" John said as he turned to Mycroft and Joanna smirked at him knowingly.

"Well, you were gone. We saw an opportunity," Sherlock told him offhandedly.

"No, you saw the kitchen," John told him and Lexi giggled again as Joanna threw her a look and then looked back at John.

"And might we add his wife's arse. I know you Sherlock Holmes. Mycroft does the same thing," Joanna said, pointing at Sherlock accusingly and John coughed as Mycroft blushed deeply and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"What have you found so far? Clearly nothing," Mycroft asked Anderson, clearing his throat and changing the subject as he turned to him, his cheeks still slightly pink.

"There's nothing to find," Sherlock told Mycroft as Joanna went to lounge on the couch.

"Your bedroom door is shut," Mycroft pointed out and Lexi hummed as he turned toward the hallway behind the kitchen. Sherlock sighed as his brother slowly walked along the hallway. "You haven't been home all night. So, why would a man who has never knowingly closed the door without the direct orders of his mother bother to do so on this occasion?" Mycroft asked and Sherlock raised his head and flipped his hood back while Mycroft progressed. Now Mycroft reached the door and put his hand on the door knob. Sherlock and Lexi hurled themselves up into a sitting position.

"No don't you dare!" Lexi shouted quickly as Sherlock righted her so that she was now sitting on his lap rather than beside him.

"Okay, stop! Just stop!" Sherlock shouted and Mycroft turned the knob but didn't open the door. "Point made," Sherlock told him.

"Jesus, Sherlock, Lexi," John said as Mycroft turned and walked slowly back along the hall.

"Have to phone our parents, of course, in Oklahoma," Mycroft said and Sherlock looked down and closed his eyes. "Won't be the first time that your substance abuse has wreaked havoc with their line-dancing. Not sure they will be pleased to find out that Lexi is also involved, they already think of her like a daughter," Mycroft continued and Lexi started giggling as Sherlock sighed and stood up, walking closer to his brother. He looked back at her and rolled his eyes.

"I thought we agreed," Sherlock complained and Mycroft and John looked between the two detectives curiously and in confusion.

"Really, I'm sorry, I can't love," Lexi told him, shaking her head as she stood up and walked over to him, taking her hands in hers before looking over to Mycroft. "There is absolutely no need to call your parents and you can check our room if you really have a dying need to. Sherlock would still rather you believe we were doing drugs that have you check our room. I'm sure with Joanna you'll understand what newlyweds might be like," Lexi said and John coughed as he understood what she meant and Mycroft blushed again, Sherlock blushing as well this time. Joanna and Lexi didn't look at all phased by anything at all however. "We started closing our door once Mrs. Hudson started tidying up the flat a bit more. It got to be a bit awkward for all of us… well she walked in on us once…so you know, it became habit," Lexi finished and Sherlock and Lexi grimaced at each other before shuddering once.

"This is not what you think. This is for a case," Sherlock explained to Mycroft and Lexi hummed in agreement as Sherlock wrapped his arm around Lexi's waist.

"What case could possibly justify this?" Mycroft asked his brother and sister in law in exasperation and they shared a look before turning back to him.

"Magnussen," They said in unison and Mycroft's slight smile dropped.

"Charles Augustus Magnussen," Sherlock clarified and Mycroft drew in a breath and turned to Anderson and his friend as Joanna stood up and crossed the length of the living room to stand next to Mycroft.

"That name you think you may have just heard – you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you – on behalf of the British Security Services …," Mycroft said before Joanna cut in over him.

"Also know by the name of Joanna Holmes," Joanna said as soon as she saw the recognition flash in Anderson's eyes over the name and she smiled at him in a very dangerous manner,

"…that materials will be found on your computer hard drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply – just look frightened and scuttle," Mycroft threatened them and Joanna gave them each a dark look. Anderson immediately ushers his friend out of the kitchen and followed her onto the landing, closing the door behind him. Mycroft turned back to where John was standing beside Sherlock. "I hope we won't have to threaten you as well," Mycroft told him as Joanna raised her eyebrow at him.

"Well, I think we'd both find that embarrassing," John said and Joanna smirked slightly and Sherlock snorted laughter, turning his head away as Lexi giggled.

"Honey, he wouldn't be doing the threatening," Joanna told him sweetly and despite the way she said it, John knew that it was a warning. She nodded at him once and Mycroft looked away from her, looking smug and turned to his brother and Lexi.

"Magnussen is not your business," Mycroft told the two detectives sternly and Lexi raised her eyebrow before she shared a look with Joanna that no one missed the two girls nodded at each other as if sharing a message.

"Oh, you mean he's yours," Sherlock said, turning back and pointing at his brother.

"You may consider him under my protection," Mycroft said and Joanna shot him a look. Mycroft looked at her and everyone could tell that there had been some level of argument between them over this topic before. One difference in Joanna and Mycroft's marriage was that they never brought work arguments home. They might have an ongoing argument or disagreement about something in government but that never became a personal problem at home. This one seemed to be starting to cross that line however.

"I consider you under his thumb," Sherlock said and Joanna hummed in agreement. Mycroft glared at her but she only sent him a soft look. He softened his expression towards her slightly but his expression towards his brother only darkened.

"If you go against Magnussen, then you will find yourself going against me," Mycroft said quietly and ominously.

"Okay. I'll let you know if I notice," Sherlock told him nonchalantly before he strolled towards the kitchen door. "Er, what was I going to say? Oh, yeah," Sherlock said as he opened the door. "Bye-bye," Sherlock told them, though sending an apologetic glance at Joanna whom he actually liked.

"The both of you are wrong," Joanna said as she stepped between Mycroft and Sherlock and they both turned to look at her, glaring at each other over the top of her head. She nodded at Lexi and both women walked over to their respective husbands and smacked them roughly in the head. "No shut up and listen to someone other than yourselves for once," Joanna told them as they angrily rubbed their heads and John was suddenly very glad that he was here to witness this. "Charles Augustus Magnussen is actually all of our business as of right now," Joanna told them and Mycroft went to say something but Joanna held her hand up and sent him a warning look for him to not interrupt her.

"Lately some of the things he has been up to are a bit worrying," Lexi said and Joanna and her shared a look. "Joanie and I have been monitoring his activity and we have reason to believe that some of his recent ventures aren't strictly legal," Lexi said and Mycroft glared at her.

"You will cease this immediately. Magnussen is not your concern and Joanna should not have asked for your help in any way," Mycroft said as he sent his wife a warning look.

"Oh and so I should have done nothing like you currently are My?" Joanna argued with him and he went to argue back with her but she cut him off. "He is under your protection because of what he could possibly know and what he could possibly have against the British Government. This is Irene Adler all over again and we both know how wonderfully your plan went the last time. I thought we weren't giving diplomatic immunity to possible security threats any more," Joanna told him and Mycroft bit his inner cheek to keep from yelling at his wife and keep his temper under control. Both he and Joanna had white hot tempers and only a few of their arguments had so far really escalated to all out shouting battles. They kept their arguments over government matters at work but Magnussen was the first that they had ever brought home with them.

"We will discuss this at home. There are things you do not know," Mycroft told Joanna shortly and Sherlock smirked slightly, not noticing when Joanna raised her eyebrow and then her eyes widened in surprise. Joanna and Mycroft also had a way of reading each other but in a vastly different way and what she had just read off of his body language and the look in his eyes did not bode well for him.

"Trouble in Paradise already? How very telling Mycroft. Then again, she's always been a bit more than you could handle. Why don't you run along and see if you can "discuss" things," Sherlock told Mycroft, pointing the way out and Mycroft walked round him and then turned to face him.

"Unwise, brother mine," Mycroft threatened but Sherlock immediately seized Mycroft's left arm just below the elbow. Twisting his arm up behind his back, he slammed his brother face-first against the wall beside the kitchen door. Mycroft cried out in pain as Sherlock breathed rapidly, his voice venomous.

"Brother mine, don't appal me when I'm high," Sherlock threatened as Joanna walked over to Sherlock, John hurrying over to Mycroft's side as well as Lexi walked over and stood next to Sherlock, glaring at him.

"Mycroft, don't say another word. Just go. He could snap you in two, and right now I am slightly worried that he might," John told Mycroft softly but very firmly, watching Sherlock's face all the time.

"I'd like to see him try," Joanna said in a dangerous voice. "Sherlock, you may be my brother in law and Lexi I love you like a sister but Sherlock, unhand my husband or I will hurt you," Joanna said darkly and Sherlock immediately let go of Mycroft, heading his sister in law's warning, knowing all too well where his own wife learned everything. "Now," Joanna said before she and Lexi smacked them both in the heads again as Mycroft held his left arm in pain. "We've both had it with these childish attitudes!" Joanna scolded the both of them.

"You're brothers, start acting like it!" Lexi told the both of them through gritted teeth. "I've tried to be understanding but enough is bloody enough. On our first case together I could understand that you were still fighting and had issues, I could understand why you didn't want to take the case to find the Bruce-Partington Plans, why you were angry with him sending us to get the phone from Irene, but you two are brothers. At the end of the day, out of everyone in the world, you two know you can rely on each other. It wasn't always like this," Lexi told the both of them as Mycroft and Sherlock shared a dark look with each other over their wives heads.

"Don't think for one second that we are against going to Mummy about this," Joanna told the both of them threateningly. "Now, like John said, don't speak, just leave My. We do have a lot of things to discuss apparently and I for one would like to know why you decided to keep that little titbit from me," Joanna said as Mycroft lowered his right arm and Joanna bent down and picked up Mycroft's umbrella which he had dropped and shoved it into his arms before she stormed out of the kitchen and started loudly storming down the stairs. Mycroft looked over at Lexi and gulped nervously before he turned and followed her out of their kitchen. In the living room, Sherlock was stretching and rubbing the back of his neck and John turned and walked towards him as Lexi whispered to him quickly in French. He made a face at her before he leaned down and kissed her.

"Er, Magnussen?" John asked the two of them and they looked over at him as Sherlock wrapped his arms around Lexi's waist and rested his head on top of Lexi's head.

"What time is it?" Sherlock asked John and Lexi hummed slightly as she closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned back against her chest and nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

"About eight," John told them and Sherlock sniffed deeply and sighed out a disgusted breath.

"We're meeting him in three hours. We need a bath," Sherlock said and Lexi opened her eyes, turning her head and kissing his cheek.

"Just a bit love, go on ahead, I need some coffee," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded and kissed the side of her head before he walked through the kitchen towards the hallway.

"It's for a case, you said?" John asked the two of them as Lexi walked over to her computer first and started messing around on it, obviously doing something that Mycroft told her not to do. It looked like she was shutting down a few systems that she had running.

"Yep," Sherlock answered him as Lexi hummed.

"What sort of case?" John asked them and Lexi looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi shared a look with each other, seemingly having one of their silent conversations.

"You trying to put me off?" John asked Sherlock and Lexi giggled brightly.

"God, no," Sherlock said, with his hand on the knob of the bathroom door as he looked back at John while Lexi said, "Of course not." "We're trying to recruit you," Sherlock finished before he sent him a small smile and went into the bathroom. "And stay out of our bedroom," Sherlock called back to John and Lexi laughed brightly at that.

"It's just a bit of a mess," Lexi said as she stepped around him and walked into the kitchen and went over to the worktop, picking up the coffee percolator. "Sherlock insisted that we move all of my stuff into our room after the wedding so we turned my old room into a study. He's just being a bit…,"Lexi said, making a face before chuckling. "Mostly he just doesn't want anyone going into our room. We're not actually hiding anything in there but you know how he can act a bit childish at times," Lexi continued to ramble as she started making coffee. "Would you like some?" She asked him and John walked closer to her

"Lexi, are you alright?" John asked her and she looked up at him and smiled brightly.

"I'm fine, we both are. We both look a lot worse than we feel. We know how you are supposed to look when you are on drugs John. It's easy enough to mimic. The best way is to deprive yourself of sleep and keep your food intake down. It isn't healthy but we've had worse when we were traveling," Lexi told him and John blew out a deep breath and walked over to her.

"Let me do that then," John told her, talking the coffee percolator from her.

"Hmm, thank you," Lexi told him as she moved out of his way. "So how is Mary and the baby?" Lexi asked him as she leaned against the counter and he set up the coffee.

"She's fine. We're both fine, yeah. Missing the both of you of course," John told her as he turned and walked towards a cupboard. It was slightly awkward talking to her right now after not having seen her in so long.

"Actually it's over there now," Lexi said as she pointed to a different cupboard. "We moved a few things around because Mrs. Hudson started complaining about us having the chemicals out all over the place," Lexi told him and John noticed that the kitchen was actually slightly cleaner for once.

"So what about you two? How has married life been for the both of you?" John asked Lexi, wondering what it must be like to be married to Sherlock Holmes, and she smiled at him brightly.

"Brilliant. Thank you John, for everything you and Mary did for us. We're sorry by the way that we haven't been by in the last month or so but we had to keep up our cover story," Lexi told him as he wandered vaguely towards the cupboard that she had indicated. "We took the case right after the wedding," Lexi explained to him just as Sherlock shouted for her from the bathroom. "And I believe that is my cue," She told him with a laugh and John chuckled slightly. "Ugh, really need a bath," Lexi said, sniffing herself. "Alright, give us a bit," Lexi said just as the bathroom door opened and Sherlock appeared with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Are you coming?" Sherlock asked her as John coughed slightly. He knew they were married now, but he still wasn't used to seeing them being so… with each other. It was a bit awkward to see his best mates and know that they did certain things now. Lexi laughed as she walked over to him, Sherlock crooking his finger slightly and smirked at his wife as John looked away feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

"Of course husband," Lexi said as she wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck and leaned up on her tip toes as he bent down and kissed her soundly. She giggled as he pulled her into the bathroom and John's face reddened when he heard Lexi giggle and then Sherlock chuckle as there was a loud splash of water. He shook his head and finished making the coffee quickly before he retreated to the safety of the living room, turning on the TV in the hope to drown out any sounds of what Sherlock or Lexi might or might not be doing in what used to be their shared bathroom.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I relaxed in a steaming bath together and I ran my fingertips through the water as I leaned back against Sherlock's chest with my eyes closed. The last month had been tiring but not nearly as bad as when we had been on the run. I actually should thank John for breaking our cover. Now we could go back to living normally again. The first thing I was going to do was make a large casserole and then cuddle on the couch with my husband. Sherlock hummed by my ear and place a few kisses on my neck and I giggled slightly as I turned to kiss him more deeply. He shifted so his arm was wrapped tighter around me. The tub really wasn't made for two very tall people but we managed.

"Love, John is in the other room," I reminded him and he groaned and nuzzled his face into my hair. "Later sweetie," I told him and he growled slightly and nipped at my ear.

"Don't tease," He told me and I raised my eyebrow at him slightly as I smirked.

"Oh, why ever would I do that?" I asked him as we both sat up and I handed him my shampoo. He squirted some onto the palm of his hand and rubbed his fingers through my hair. I sighed in contentment as he pressed kisses across my shoulder blades and spine. Once he was done I had him turn around and I washed his curls for him. He purred slightly at the sensation and I grinned at him as I pressed kisses in return to his shoulders and back, paying special attention to his more heavily scarred areas before we concluded our bath together.

We got out of the bathtub and drained the water which was murky now. We both grimaced as we thought about all the grit that had been on us. It couldn't be helped after all. I wrapped Sherlock's red dressing grown around me, my towel wrapped around my hair, as Sherlock just padded behind me into our room with his towel wrapped around his waist. If John hadn't been in the flat we both would have just walked naked back to our room. I could hear the TV on in the living room though which told us that he was still here. Sherlock and I got dressed, getting a bit distracted by each other again which meant that we took a bit longer than we intended too. Sherlock wore his typical black trousers and white button down shirt and I put on my black skinny jeans and black and white stripped sweater. Sherlock took my towel from my hair and rubbed the water from it for me before throwing it into our laundry basket and we shared a few kisses before we joined John back in the living room to find him sitting on the edge of the coffee table. He had turned the TV off as we walked through the kitchen and Sherlock put his jacket on as we walked across the living room together. John had a bemused smile on his face and I just rolled my eyes at him as I smirked slightly.

"So – it's just a guess but you've probably got some questions for us," Sherlock told John and I looked over at him and hummed in agreement.

"I would think so love, we did drop off the face of the world for over a month," I told him and he looked over at me and rolled his eyes in exasperation. I snorted and he leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"Yyyyeah, one or two, pretty much," John told us and I nodded at him as he reached down and picked up a mug of coffee, holding it out to me. I squealed in delight and darted forward, taking it from him before I gave him a little hug of thanks and greedily sipping at the strong brew, black, two sugars, exactly as I liked it.

"Naturally," Sherlock said and I threw a smirk over my shoulder at him.

"Obviously," I told him and John grinned as Sherlock smirked at me. I bounced back over to his side and offered him my cup which he accepted. He took a sip of my coffee and wrapped his arm around my waist as I leaned my back up against his chest and smiled happily in contentment.

"So, Mycroft got married?" John asked us and I chuckled at that.

"Four weeks ago yeah. Joanna finally wore him down. They eloped in his office actually," I told him, shaking my head slightly. Sherlock and I had been the only ones present as witnesses. That was before we had gone undercover in the drug den.

"Well good on him then. It looks like he's in for a bit of a chewing out later," John chuckled and I laughed as well as Sherlock handed me back my coffee and I hummed in agreement before taking another sip of it.

"You have no idea. I've only seen her that angry on a few occasions before. They've been fighting over the topic of Magnussen for a while now. Joanna wants to do something about him but Mycroft won't, says he is under his protection," I explained to John as Sherlock kissed the side of my head and then moved forward and paced slightly in front of us.

"Now, Magnussen. Magnussen is like a shark – it's the only way I can describe him. Have you ever been to the shark tank at the London Aquarium, John – stood up close to the glass? Those floating flat faces, those dead eyes ... That's what he is," Sherlock told John as I grimaced at his very accurate description. Out of the two of them Moriarty of Magnussen, Magnussen was far worse than Moriarty ever was.

"Sherlock and I have dealt with just about every criminal in the criminal classes. We've faced murderers, serial killers, angels of mercy, terrorist, assassins, corporate killers, and of course psychopaths like Moriarty…," I told John, trailing off as I looked up at Sherlock, sharing a long look with him. I shuddered slightly and Sherlock stopped pacing, wrapping his arms around me again and kissing my cheek as he rubbed my arms comfortingly.

"But none of them can turn our stomachs like Charles Augustus Magnussen," Sherlock told John as I looked over at our army doctor and sighed slightly.

"You know that Magnussen is a newspaper owner, but he is also so much more than that John. Joanna and I were looking into how much more, but apparently Mycroft is going to shut down that and given Joanna's look, she is going to ask me to stop too," I told both of the boys and John frowned at us.

"He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power," Sherlock said and I hummed slightly. That was generally the way it worked. Sherlock and I walked over to the dining table and he sat down, pulling me down onto his lap before he opened up my laptop. "I'm not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond," Sherlock said and I thought back to Moriarty and when we met with him in our flat before the Fall.

"Everyone has a pressure point John, Moriarty taught us that. Magnussen is the Napoleon of Backmail and in some ways I think he is worse than Moriarty. Moriarty knew what a person's pressure point was but he didn't use them often. Blackmail wasn't Moriarty's thing, Magnussen however...," I said as Sherlock pulled up a photograph of Magnussen's home, together with a blueprint of the building.

"…he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name ...," Sherlock told John as he turned the laptop to show the screen to him.

"...is Appledore," We finished in unison and Sherlock looked over at me and smirked. He secretly loved whenever we finished a sentence together. He thought it sounded more mysterious and he especially loved it when we did it at crime scenes because it freaked out the Yarders.

"Dinner," John said suddenly and I frowned at him in confusion as Sherlock raised his eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Sorry, what, dinner?" Sherlock asked John as I snorted slightly.

"Not exactly what we were talking about John, but alright," I told our army doctor and he continued with his explanation of his off topic comment.

"Me and Mary, coming for dinner ... with ... wine and ... sitting. You know because neither of us have seen you two in a month and it might be nice to catch up and talk about something other than a case," John said and I nodded at him as Sherlock turned and stared at him for a moment. John did have a point, it would be nice to just talk with them and have a sort of couple's night.

"We'll plan a night, but no wine, at least not for Mary," I told John as I pointed to him and he grinned slightly at me.

"Seriously? We've just told you that the Western world is run from this house ...," Sherlock said in exasperation as he pointed at the screen "...and you want to talk about dinner?" Sherlock asked him and I hummed slightly.

"Well dinner would be nice love," I told him and he looked down at me as I raised my eyebrow slightly. _'We owe John that much, he missed us,'_ I told Sherlock and he jerked his head slightly before he kissed my forehead.

_'Fine, later. I don't like sharing you,'_ Sherlock told me and I smirked at him.

_'I know,'_ I told him before I leaned back and kissed his cheek as his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Fine, talk about the house," John told Sherlock and Sherlock threw him a look before he turned back to my laptop. I looked over at John and shook my head, sighing a bit as I smiled at him and he hid a smirk by biting his lip.

"It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world ...," Sherlock explained as he looked over his shoulder at John "...the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals – and none of it is on a computer," Sherlock said before he tapped me on the nose. "I quite like that, almost named after you and you can remember everything," Sherlock said and I laughed brightly.

"Nearly everything," I reminded him before I looked over at John. "The point is, Magnussen is smart…computers can be hacked and he knows that. None of it is on a computer which means neither Joanna nor I can get into any of his information and destroy it which is very frustrating," I fumed and Sherlock leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. I sighed and then cuddled back against his chest as he wrapped his arms tighter around my waist.

"It's all on hard copy in vaults ...," Sherlock told John as he pointed at the rotating blueprint on the screen which I had gotten from Joanna. "...underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you've ever met is a fantasy," Sherlock finished as there was a knock on the living room door, followed by Mrs. Hudson's familiar, "Ooh-ooh!" The door opened and she come in.

"Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?" Mrs. Hudson asked us as she pointed back down the stairs.

"It got a bit annoying. Clients kept coming by and ringing it while we were trying to sleep. I shot it off and then we stuck it in the freezer," I told Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock shook his head as he burrowed his face into my hair and breathed in deeply.

"It's in the fridge. I moved it to make room for the severed fingers," Sherlock told me and I hummed as John sighed loudly in exasperation.

"Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock, Lexi!" Mrs. Hudson told us and I rolled my eyes slightly as I looked over at her.

"It is when neither of us wanted to answer it," I told her and she opened her mouth to make a retort and then closed it again.

"That's beside the point young lady," She told me and I shrugged at her, rolling my eyes slightly as she gave me a hard look.

"Alright Gran," I told her and she smiled at me, her expression softening. I had taken to calling Mrs. Hudson Gran lately as she really did act like a grandmother to Sherlock and me and I knew that she was secretly very pleased with it. Sherlock's grandmother had died before he was born and so was mine so Mrs. Hudson was as close to one as both of us would get.

"Who is it?" John asked Mrs. Hudson, drawing the conversation back to what was actually important. Mrs. Hudson drew in an anxious breath and I stood up immediately and walked over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's alright Gran," I told her and she patted my arm.

"Can you have him come up?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson and I looked back over at him, not happy that we were sending her down, but Magnussen wouldn't try anything with her. She nodded at us and I gave her hands a squeeze before she turned and left us.

"Merde," I said before I turned back around to my boys. "Sherlock, remember what I said. John, let me handle this. He will have security, most likely he will know about what I can do, but not the extent of it," I said, speaking quickly as I walked over to John and pulled him up to standing. "They will search you John. Just let them," I told our army doctor and he nodded at me as I looked over at John, the boys placing me right in between them as we stood in front of the fire place. I reached down and linked my fingers with Sherlock before reaching down on the other side and linking the fingers of my other hand with John, he looked over at me and I smiled at him reassuringly. The three of us against the world.

**Third Person POV**

"Mr. and Mrs. Holmes said you can go right up," Mrs. Hudson said as she reached the bottom of the stairs and she looked nervously at the man who was waiting in the hall. She flattened herself against the wall and almost cringed as three men in dark suits walked up the stairs. The last time three men were in the house was back when Lexi and the boys were on the case of that horrible woman. Oh, if ever Mrs. Hudson had met her she would have given her a piece of her mind. She cause Lexi to leave. At least Lexi was here this time. As the fourth person walked towards the stairs, he could see not only Mrs Hudson but information about her as well which read:

**MARTHA LOUISE HUDSON**

**(née SISSONS)**

**LANDLADY**

**WIDOW (SEE FILE)**

**SEMI-REFORMED ALCOHOLIC**

**FORMER "EXOTIC DANCER"**

**(SEE FILE)**

**FINANCES: 21% DEBT**

**(SEE FILE)**

**STATUS: UNIMPORTANT**

And underneath, flashing in red:

**PRESSURE POINT: **

**MARIJUANA**

Upstairs, the three men – clearly security men, all wearing earpieces – walked into the living room. Sherlock and Lexi were standing by the fireside with John and the fourth man smiled ever so slightly when he saw that they were all holding hands. The girl, Lexi MacKenna, now Lexi Holmes raised her eye brow at him as her husband sighed and they let go of each other's hands as Magnussen saw Lexi studying him. He had heard a lot about the girl but it was all so wonderful to finally be meeting her in person. He could tell that she had a defiant spirit.

"Oh, go ahead," Sherlock said mock-wearily and he spread his arms and allowed one of the goons to frisk him. Another one walked over to John while the third generally looked round the room before he moved over to Lexi. "I would be careful about how you search my wife," Sherlock warned the third man as Lexi raised her arms and the man patted her down as Sherlock eyed him. He didn't bother to listen to the warning however and got a bit to handsy, thus Lexi moved and had his arm pinned behind his back in an instant.

"He didn't warn you to be careful about him honey," Lexi told him as Sherlock smirked and the security man nodded before Lexi let go of him. The security man who was searching Dr. Watson addressed him as Lexi moved closer to Sherlock, the security guards eyeing her wearily.

"Sir?" The security man asked the doctor and John glanced over to Sherlock and Lexi, then looked back to the man.

"Can I have a moment?" John asked him as Sherlock lowered his arms from his frisking and looked across to the man as Lexi raised her eyebrow at him slightly and then smirked.

"Oh, he's fine," Sherlock told him and the man glanced at Sherlock, then kneeled down in front of John and started frisking him.

"Er, I ... right. I should probably tell you ...," John started to say as the man reached into John's jacket pocket and took out Bill's flick-knife. "Okay, I ...," John said as he pointed to the knife "... That," John said as Lexi giggled slightly and everyone looked at her.

"Holding it for a friend?" Lexi asked him and Sherlock chuckled slightly at her as the man pulled John's jacket open next.

"And ...," John said as the man stood up, holding the tyre lever he had just taken from John's jeans and looking at him sternly. Sherlock looked startled as Lexi threw back her head and laughed brightly. John stepped closer to the man and spoke confidentially. "Doesn't mean I'm not pleased to see you," John said and Lexi laughed louder as the man didn't look amused.

"I think that you just took a leaf out of my book," Lexi told him and then she shook her head at their army doctor before she turned towards the door to the living room.

"We can vouch for this man. He's a doctor. If you know who we are, then you know who he is ...," Sherlock told Magnussen and he turned his head towards the door as Magnussen walked in and stopped just inside the doorway. "...don't you, Mr Magnussen?" Sherlock asked as Lexi raised her eyebrow at him and John's security man stepped to John's side and faced his boss while the other one stand at Sherlock's side and the third waited in the kitchen wanting to be far enough away from Lexi as possible it seemed or he was blocking any means of their exit. Not that Lexi couldn't have gotten them out if she wanted to.

"I understood we were meeting at your office," Sherlock began and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"And at a much later time," She said, her tone no longer light and actually a bit scary. She sounded a bit like she had before when he and Sherlock had walked into the flat and found her smoking when Irene had paid them a house call. It was her business voice and it was entirely posh and free of her Irish accent. Magnussen looked round the room for a moment before answering the both of them.

"This is my office," Magnussen said and Lexi raised her eyebrow at him and shook her head, tilting her head to the side as she hummed.

"No, I believed Mr. Magnussen that this is our flat. Thus, you have just stepped into our office. You might want to put that in your file. See the difference?" Lexi asked him in a light tone, but with a very threatening look on her face. Magnussen raised his eyebrow at her as he walked slowly towards the sofa. He had been warned about her and her attitude. He stopped and turned to look at John and information appeared in front of his eyes:

**JOHN HAMISH WATSON**

**AFGHANISTAN VETERAN (SEE FILE)**

**G.P. (SEE FILE)**

**PORN PREFERENCE: NORMAL**

**FINANCES: 10% DEBT (SEE FILE)**

**STATUS UNIMPORTANT**

then, in flashing red underneath:

**PRESSURE POINT: HARRY WATSON (SISTER) ALCOHOLIC**

**MARY MORSTAN (WIFE)**

**SHERLOCK HOLMES (BEST FRIEND)**

**LEXI HOLMES NEE MACKENNA (PSUDO SISTER)**

"Well, it is now," Magnussen told Lexi and she shook her head at him and smiled pleasantly enough.

"That's not how it works. You see you may have information on other people Mr. Magnussen but there isn't much you can use on me. I've already faced the demons of my past. This is still my office, but I'm delighted to host you," Lexi told him and she smiled at him as she and Magnussen sized each other up.

"They say many things about you Miss. MacKenna… forgive me, Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said and Lexi shrugged.

"Well they would and I assure you that most of what you hear is most likely true," Lexi told him as he continued on to the dining table, picked up a newspaper from it, and then went back and sat down on the sofa.

"Dually noted," Magnussen said as he looked back at Lexi and she nodded at him and John realized that she might have just threatened one of the most powerful man in the Western world.

"Mr. Magnussen, we have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters," Sherlock told Magnussen who ignored him, paying more attention to the uncomfortableness of the sofa. Now he looked at the newspaper in his hand. "Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters," Sherlock continued as Lexi narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips, knowing that this was how he was going to play this. She touched Sherlock's arms and he looked over at her.

_'He's going to ignore you but he might not ignore me. He's heard things about me that made him interested. Course he's heard things about you too, but…,'_ Lexi told Sherlock quietly before he cut her off with a hard look.

_'No, no, I am not letting you do this. Magnussen is worse than Moriarty ever was. I am not letting you let another psychopath take an interest in you,'_ Sherlock told her and she snorted slightly.

_'He's hardly a psychopath. Yes, he can be dangerous but he really has nothing he can use against me. I've already dealt with my past once I've made peace with it. I think I can get him to listen,'_ Lexi told him and he sighed slightly before nodding minutely.

_'Be careful, one sign from him and I want you to stop,'_ Sherlock told her and she nodded as Magnussen looked up at the both of them, leaning back on the sofa and Lexi turned to him, raising her head and giving him a hard look as she set her jaw and John saw her body language take on a more military stance. He was reminded of when Sholto told her that she would have made a good soldier. He was right, she would have. If she hadn't become a consulting detective she would have made a brilliant army doctor.

"Lady Smallwood wants those letters back," Lexi told Magnussen as she used a commanding tone with him he looked at the consulting detective standing beside her and information appeared in front of his eyes:

**SHERLOCK HOLMES**

**CONSULTING DETECTIVE**

**PORN PREFERENCE: NONE (SEE LEXI HOLMES' FILE)**

**FINANCES: UNKNOWN**

**BROTHER: MYCROFT HOLMES**

**M.I.6 (SEE FILE)**

**SISTER IN LAW: JOANNA HOLMES NEE REYER (SEE FILE)**

**M.I.6 ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**CIA ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**FBI ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**OFFICIALLY DECEASED 2011-2013**

and underneath in red:

**PRESSURE POINT:**

**LEXI HOLMES (WIFE SEE FILE)**

**IRENE ADLER (SEE FILE)**

**JIM MORIARTY (SEE FILE)**

**REDBEARD (SEE FILE)**

**HOUNDS OF THE BASKERVILLE**

**OPIUM**

**COCAINE**

**JOHN WATSON**

The list of pressure points cycled round several times before he turned his gaze on the consulting detective's wife. Her file was far more impressive.

**LEXI HOLMES NEE MACKENNA**

**CONSULTING DETECTIVE**

**CIA TRAINING/HACKER/CRYPTOGROHER (SEE FILE)**

**STATUS: HIGHEST PRIORITY**

**HIGHLY DANGEROUS/PROCEED WITH CAUTION**

**FINANCES: UNKNOWN**

**BROTHER IN LAW: MYCROFT HOLMES**

**M.I.6 (SEE FILE)**

**SISTER IN LAW: JOANNA HOLMES NEE REYER (SEE FILE)**

**M.I.6 ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**CIA ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**FBI ASSUMED (SEE FILE)**

**BIOLOGICAL FATHER: LORD ALISTAIR OF BELMORY**

**BIOLOGICAL MOTHER: IMOGEN WILLIAMS**

**FATHER: LORD BRECCAN MACKENNA**

**OFFICIALLY DECEASED 2011-2013**

and underneath in red:

**PRESSURE POINT:**

**SHERLOCK HOLMES (HUSBAND SEE FILE)**

**IRENE ADLER (SEE FILE)**

**JIM MORIARTY (SEE FILE)**

**LORD MACKENNA (SEE FILE)**

**LORD ALISTAR OF BELMORY (SEE FILE)**

**BEAUTIFUL BIRD (SEE FILE)**

**HOUNDS OF THE BASKERVILLE**

**OPIUM**

**COCAINE**

**JOHN WATSON**

"Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind ...," Sherlock said as Magnussen cycled through her list of pressure points which was quite extensive. Sherlock broke off, noticing something about Magnussen's expression that was a bit off. Magnussen gives a quiet snort and Sherlock let out an exasperated huff of air "Something I said?" Sherlock asked him in irritation.

"No, no. I-I was reading," Magnussen told them and he adjusted his glasses, the red list of pressure points cycling more quickly as he cycled through the two detectives lists, combining them. "There's rather a lot," He said and Sherlock frowned as Lexi raised her eyebrow at him thoughtfully. In front of Magnussen's eyes, the white list of information vanished and the red list cycled rapidly. ""Redbeard,"" Magnussen said and Sherlock blinked and his mouth opened slightly. "And "Beautiful Bird,"" He said and it was Lexi's turn to blink in shock and her lips to part slightly. She growled slightly before she took Sherlock's hand in hers and she muttered something under her breath which strengthened Sherlock's expression. The consulting detective squared his shoulders and closed his mouth as he stared back at Magnussen who wondered what his wife might have told him. "Sorry," Magnussen said and he shook his head. "S-sorry. You were probably talking?" Magnussen asked him and Lexi nodded.

"If you were bothering to listen yes," The women told him and Magnussen had to applaud her for her fiery attitude. Whatever she had said to her husband had instantly calmed him. That part about their file was right. He was told that they were unstoppable once they were together, that no matter what happened, as long as they were together, nothing could affect him. Apparently that was proven true. If he was anyone else he might have thought it sweet. He actually found it nauseating. "We were trying to explain that we've been asked to act on behalf of ...," The girl continued before Magnussen turned his head to the security man beside John.

"Bathroom?" He asked, interrupting her, simply to see how she would react and he was quiet amused to see her livid expression. Her husband exchanged a look with her and she said something under her breath to him as she rolled her eyes.

"Along from the kitchen, sir," The security man said, nodding to his right.

"Okay," Magnussen said as Sherlock looked over at him.

"We've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters," Sherlock said firmly and Magnussen smirked to himself. They answered for each other, even spoke for each other. Two halves of a whole. Didn't even realize it either. As pressure points went, they were the perfect ones. Magnussen took off his glasses and looked towards the window, ignoring them. "We're aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents ...," Sherlock continued while Magnussen gestured around the living room.

"Is it like the rest of the flat?" Magnussen asked his security man as he looked over at him.

"Sir?" His man asked him in confusion.

"The bathroom?" Magnussen asked him as Lexi made a little annoyed noise.

"Er, yes, sir," The security man answered him.

"Maybe not, then," Magnussen told him and Lexi cleared her throat.

"Well, if I had known you were coming I would have lit a few candles," Lexi said and John bit back a bit of laughter with a cough as she fixed Magnussen with a hard look.

"Are we acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock asked Magnussen and he meet Sherlock's eyes for a moment, then looked towards the window again.

"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her," Magnussen said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"Yes, Mr. Magnussen I believe you would," Lexi told him as he turned his eyes towards Sherlock and Lexi again and popped his lips a couple of times.

"Mr. Magnussen, are we acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock demanded again and again he was ignored as Lexi realized that this conversation was no longer moving forward and this was no longer attempting to be pleasant.

"She's English, with a spine," Magnussen said and he lifted his right foot and put it against the side of the coffee table, then pushed the table away from him. Sherlock frowned slightly as Lexi bit her inner cheek, Sherlock holding her arm by her elbow. Magnussen stood up and, beside Sherlock, the second security man turned and stepped forward to the fireplace, taking the fire guard away from the front of the unlit fire. Sherlock glanced over his shoulder while Lexi stared straight ahead at Magnussen. "Best thing about the English ...," Magnussen continued as he walked over to Sherlock, Lexi, and John and looked at them one after the other. "...you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologising ...," He said as he nodded to Sherlock and then walked in between Lexi and John towards the fireplace. "...keeping your little heads down," Magnussen told them as he stood in front of the fireplace, facing it. The sound of him unzipping his trousers was heard and John looked over at Lexi to see her opening her mouth and baring her teeth as she stared forward and Sherlock tightened his grip on her elbow to keep her from turning around. "You can do what you like here. No-one's ever going to stop you," Magnussen continued and he looked down as the sound of him urinating into the fireplace could be heard in the flat. John blinked appalled as he realized why Lexi was so pissed off and he half-turned his head towards Magnussen. Sherlock kept his head facing forward, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall as Lexi did the same, breathing in and out deeply as she closed her mouth, her lips set in a tight line. "A nation of herbivores," Magnussen said as he continued to urinate and he half-glanced over his shoulder. "I've interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England," Magnussen said and he looked down again as the last of his urine splashed on the grate in front of the fire. "If it works here ...," Magnussen told them as he jiggled up and down as he 'shook off' and then zipped up his trousers. "...I'll try it in a real country," Magnussen told them looking at himself in the mirror for a moment. He turned and strolled back in between John and Lexi and the security guard beside John held out a packet of wet wipes and Magnussen took one and turned to face the others. "The United Kingdom, huh?" He asked them as he started to wipe his fingers, noting the look on Lexi's face which was strangely blank now. "Petri dish to the Western world," Magnussen said as he looks at Sherlock briefly whose expression was similar to his wives. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them," He told the two detectives, finishing wiping his fingers, he dropped the wet wipe to the floor. "Goodbye," He told them and he turned as if to leave, then turned back and put his hand into his jacket's inside breast pocket. "Anyway ..." Magnussen said and he chuckled and pulled out the edge of a packet of documents to show the two detectives. "...they're funny," He said, smirking and he tucked the packet back into his jacket. He turned to leave the room which is when Lexi stepped forward.

"Mr. Magnussen?" Lexi asked him and he paused, turning back to her. "While the boys might be British," Lexi said, her Irish accent coming out extremely thick. "I'm not. I am not so domesticated and I do not keep my head down apologizing, so this…," Lexi said, punching Magnussen swiftly in the face and breaking the glass in the centre of his glasses frames before any of his security guards could move and then holding her hand up to them as they moved closer to her and giving them all a warning look. "Is for urinating in my fireplace. I'm bloody Irish, put that in your fucking file," Lexi told Magnussen before she walked him straight over to the door and pushed him and his security men out, shutting the door loudly behind them. As the sound of their feet could be heard clattering down the stairs, John took a step forward.

"Jesus!" John said furiously.

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?" Sherlock asked Lexi and John as Lexi started pacing by the door.

"Wh... There was a moment that kind of stuck in the mind, yeah," John said as he gestured towards the fireplace but Sherlock was smiling, having not noticed him.

"Exactly – when he showed us the letters," Sherlock said as Lexi nodded, calming down slightly as she smiled, remembering Magnussen's shocked face after she punched him. Sherlock walked across the room, still smiling, while John closed his eyes in disbelief. He wrapped his arms around Lexi's waist and pulled her tightly to him, her back against his front and buried his nose into her hair, breathing in deeply.

"... Okay," John said slowly as Lexi calmed down, sighing in contentment as she breathed in deeply again.

"So he's brought the letters to London – so no matter what he says, he's ready to make a deal. Now, Magnussen only makes a deal once he's established a person's weaknesses – the 'pressure point', he calls it," Sherlock said before he realized Lexi and walked over, picking up his coat from one of the dining chairs and putting it on. He picked up Lexi's as well and helped her into it as she grinned brightly.

"So, that means that he clearly believes that Sherlock and I are drug addicts and thus not serious threats. Which means we need to be very careful. See John that was why it was for the case. Magnussen only makes deals when he thinks he has found someone's pressure point. Now given Sherlock and my history with drugs, they would be considered a weakness for us both. If Sherlock went back to the drugs, I would mostly likely be unable to resist and vice versa. If you don't want a weakness to be used against you, the smartest thing to do is give your adversary a false one, one that wouldn't actually hurt you if they tried to use it against you which is why Sherlock and I spent the last four weeks in a drug den creating a false pressure point. Now, we have the upper hand on Magnussen. My little performance at the end was perfect too. It makes me look even more unstable. That and well, I was really pissed off, which reminds me I need to call a cleaning service in now," Lexi said as she looked around their flat, grimacing at the fireplace and then at the couch. John had to admit that that really was brilliant. Lexi had a point, Magnussen now thought that she and Sherlock were drug addicts again and thus they would be considered less of a threat, also due to her stunt, he would think she was unstable, which was perfect for her. He might have to start thinking of his own false pressure point now. "You know, we had Moriarty over and he at least was polite, asked if he could sit, drank tea, and actually had a conversation with us. It might not have been pleasant but it was a conversation," Lexi said and then she shook her head as John snorted slightly at her. "Magnussen deserved far worse than that," Lexi said and Sherlock kissed the side of her head comfortingly.

"Mmmm," Sherlock hummed as he looked out of the window where one of the security guards was closing the rear door of a car parked outside. Turning back and gesturing enthusiastically he kissed Lexi again and she giggled brightly at how happy he was. "Thank you for that. I wanted to do that myself," He told her before he got back to the point. "And, of course, because he's in town tonight, the letters will be in his safe in his London office while he's out to dinner with the Marketing Group of Great Britain from seven 'til ten," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"How-how do you know his schedule?" John asked Sherlock and Lexi turned and rolled her eyes at him, smirking.

"Oh John, you've known us for how long? I hacked his schedule already and found out where he would be tonight," Lexi told John and he shook his head at her in exasperation.

"Right – We'll see you tonight," Sherlock told John as he laced his fingers with Lexi's and they headed out the door together and down the stairs. He had promised to take her to lunch at Angelo's before they relaxed in the flat for a bit together. They needed some time together since they had spent the last three months working on a case. Sherlock wanted to spend most of the afternoon in bed with his wife actually.

"What's tonight?" John called after them.

"We'll text instructions," Sherlock called back up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'll text you if I'm available," John called loudly back down to them and he heard Lexi laugh brightly.

"You are! Lexi checked!" Sherlock called back before he chuckled, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to kiss his wife soundly. Yes, a nice afternoon in with his wife was long overdue, they both needed a through distraction from their most recent case. Lexi looked up at him and he rubbed his thumb over her cheek as his blue grey eyes met her hazel ones. She was just as beautiful now if not more so as they day they met on a plane from Dublin to London and just as beautiful when they met again in a semi darkened lab. He was happier than he had ever been in his life. He leaned down and kissed his wife again and then pressed his forehead against hers before breaking away and opening the door for her. They walked out onto the street together, John stepping out onto the street behind them. "Don't bring a gun," Sherlock told John as he looked over at the army doctor.

"Why would I bring a gun?" John asked him in confusion, not sure why he would need a gun in the first place. Where they really going to be doing something so dangerous that he would need his gun.

"Well you do always bring it with you, odd habits die hard," Lexi said with a grin as she looked over at him and John pointed at her accusingly.

"You always bring a gun too! You're the one that brought a gun to Baskerville and brought it out to show Henry," John told her and Lexi nodded in agreement with him as they both thought back to the case of the hound and how she had shot Dr. Frankland before he could commit suicide so he wouldn't have to go to jail for his crimes.

"Well, this is me and I am Irish," Lexi told John with a laugh before she grew more serious. "But really, don't bring a gun," She told him, giving him a pointed look.

"Or a knife, or a tyre lever. Probably best not to do any arm-spraining, but we'll see how the night goes," Sherlock told John, smirking slightly as he shared a look with Lexi, raising his arm to an approaching taxi.

"You two are just assuming I'm coming along?" John asked them as he looked in between the two detectives who, even after he hadn't seen them in over a month, were no different than before. They never changed and John was actually quite glad about that.

"But you are coming though," Lexi smirked and John rolled his eyes at her typical attitude that he had started to miss. She was always so sure that it was always going to be the three of them on cases that she refused to hear of him not coming along.

"Time you got out of the house, John," Sherlock said as he ran his eyes over him as the taxi pulled up. "You've put on seven pounds since you got married, and the cycling isn't doing it," Sherlock continued and he opened the cab door and let Lexi slid in first before he got in next to her, pulling her closer to him as she tucked herself into his side.

"It's actually four pounds," John told him defensively.

"Mary, Lexi and I think seven," Sherlock said shutting the door and looking at him through the half-open window.

"But you look rather good John," Lexi told him and John sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation.

"See you later," Sherlock told John as he leaned forward and gave their destination to the driver.

"Hatton Garden," Sherlock said and Lexi groaned. Sherlock turned to her and frowned at him.

"Quick stop?' She asked him and he nodded at her.

"Intel," He assured her and she sighed heavily.

"You know you are lucky I love you so much. Fine, but you owe me lunch afterwards," Lexi told him and Sherlock chuckled and kissed the side of her head.

"Of course," He promised her and the cab drove away. John shook his head before he looked at his watch and walked off away down Baker Street. Though there was a level of separation between the trio now that the detectives were married, it still would always be Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys. John shook his head once before hailing his own cab to head back home to his own wife, not knowing then that in only a few hours' time, his entire world was about to come crashing down …just like it had with the Fall.


	99. Blood and Betrayal

**Hello Sweeties! Only two more chapters left after this one. Wow, time really does fly. It has been amazing. Currently I am in the works for a Doctor Who story that would be coming out at the end of the summer as I need to take a short break for my next term but I'll come roaring back with an all new series to keep you busy during the Sherlock hiatus. So far those who have read it say it is really good so you can look forward to that. Also more Goldfish to come until I can finish that off and also a Kidlock to come if I can get around to writing it. **

**I just want to add here to remark on a review I got from a guest on an earlier chapter. I put a disclaimers up in the beginning, but I don't every chapter because you all know I own none of this. If I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. I don't make any money at all for doing this, I just love doing it. The only thing I own are all of my original characters and all of the none canon content that I have come up with. That's mine. I think we all know that. If I owned Sherlock...well let's just say the show ratings would change, Johnlock would be a thing and so would Mystrade. I'm not all powerful just yet. Yet is the key word.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Seven- Blood and Betrayal<strong>

**Third Person POV**

John walked towards the entrance of a skyscraper building which housed CAM Global News. In the foyer, a TV screen was broadcasting the company's news channel, which was currently showing a Breaking News item reading, "MP JOHN GARVIE ARRESTED ON CHARGES OF CORRUPTION." A newsreader's voice could be heard through the foyer as well.

"And breaking news now. John Garvie MP has been arrested today on charges of corruption. This follows an investigation ...," The news reporter said as John walked through the revolving doors and approached the security barriers which needed an electronic key card to open them. He looked around and then looked at his watch, and Sherlock and Lexi walked over and suddenly stopped behind him.

"Magnussen's office is on the top floor, just below his private flat ...," Sherlock said and he looked towards lift doors on the next level up "...but there are fourteen levels of security between us and him ...," Sherlock continued as John looked back at him, not even shocked over Lexi and Sherlock's dramatic entrance. Sherlock's mind's eye floated quickly along the next level towards the lift and homed in on the security card reader beside the lift doors as Lexi turned and leaned closer in towards John.

"I've seen all manners of security before, but Magnussen has by far the best security I have ever come across. It is virtually full proof. I've been working on a way to crack it for a while. Two of his security measures aren't even legal in this country. He's either paranoid or anal about keeping the place on lock down which is saying something because his security is even better than Buckingham Palace," Lexi explained to him and John's eyebrows rose slightly. If Lexi was saying it was full proof and the best security she had ever seen before that meant that it would be easy to get past. Of course they were with Lexi and John had come to expect the impossible from her.

"Want to know how we're going to break in?" Sherlock asked John as Lexi smiled brightly. Sherlock chuckled at her sudden enthusiasm and kissed the side of her head as he wrapped his arm tighter around her waist.

"Is that what we're doing?" John hissed as he looked between the two detectives and Lexi bobbed her head quickly, looking just a little too happy. This was serious. One wrong move and they could get carted off and arrested and who knows. Magnussen might be able to make sure they were never seen or heard from again.

"Of course it's what we're doing. Lexi's absolutely thrilled as you can see," Sherlock said as he nodded down at the Irish detective who was practically buzzing with excitement. Sherlock was smirking down at his wife who was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a happy smile on her face.

"Of course I am. It's my turn to be brilliant," Lexi said and Sherlock snorted at her as she turned to look up at him.

"As opposed to all of the other times?" Sherlock asked her, raising his eyes brow questioningly and Lexi rolled her eyes at him and nudged him in the side with her elbow.

"You know what I mean love. It's one thing to be able to deduce people or solve cases, but I have all these other skills Joanie's taught me or I've picked up that I hardly get to use. Like breaking and entering. We should bring back the old code names!" Lexi suddenly crowed and Sherlock shook his head quickly as John eyed them both in confusion, not understanding a single thing they were talking about.

"Not happening," Sherlock told her and Lexi pouted until Sherlock swooped down and kissed her deeply before pulling her with him as he turned and walked away. John shook his head at the two detectives before he followed after them.

Later, they were each carrying a takeaway cup of coffee as Sherlock had led them right over to the canteen having noticed that Lexi had started to yawn. They still hadn't had any sleep in about three days each and they were running off of fumes and caffeine. It was horrible for brain work but they didn't have a choice. It had to be tonight when Magnussen was out of his office. They wouldn't get another chance like this for a while and while Lexi might be able to convince Magnussen to give up the letters, stealing them back seemed like a more viable option. As they walked towards an escalator in the building, Sherlock and Lexi filled John in more about the layout of the building and the security measures that were put in place.

"Magnussen's private lift. It goes straight to his penthouse and office. Only he uses it ...," Sherlock explained to John as they got onto the escalator. "...and only his key card calls the lift. Anyone else even tries, security is automatically informed," Sherlock said and Lexi beamed happily as she started bouncing beside him again in excitement and from the caffeine.

"Isn't it brilliant?" She asked John who sent her an odd look as they get to the top and walked towards the lift. Sherlock looked down at her and kissed the top of her head, murmuring to her in French and she took a deep breath to calm herself down before she stopped bouncing and pulled a key card out of her coat pocket which she held up and handed over to Sherlock.

"Standard key card for the building. We nicked it yesterday. Only gets us as far as the canteen,"' Sherlock said as they stopped and he showed the card to John.

"Like I said, we've been trying to crack the security for a while. Lady Smallwood came to us with the case three days after the wedding. Since then we've been researching Magnussen to find ways to bring him down, building our cover up and fuelling our fake pressure point, and trying to figure out a way to break into his office. Now I've already checked and it isn't hackable. That was my first idea but his security honestly is that good," Lexi explained as they walked over to the lift and stopped, looking at it.

"Here we go, then," Sherlock said as Sherlock imagined them standing several yards away from the lift. "If we were to use this card on that lift now, what happens?" Sherlock asked John as he gestured towards the lift where an imaginary version of himself was touching his card to the security reader with Lexi standing beside him. Alarms immediately begin to sound, at least in Sherlock's head, and two imaginary security men ran towards imaginary-Sherlock and Lexi standing at the lift.

"Er, the alarms would go off and you'd be dragged away by security," John answered him as Sherlock imagined himself and Lexi being seized by the arms by the two men.

"Which while fun is quite tedious to deal with," Lexi commented and Sherlock smirked at her, knowing that she would actually find getting dragged off by security fun.

"Exactly," Sherlock told him while Lexi hummed in agreement.

"Now it's possible I could hack and shut off the alarms that would call security, but there wouldn't be enough time so…," Lexi said as she and Sherlock looked toward the life where they watched their imaginary selves get marched away.

"Get taken to a small room somewhere and your head kicked in," John continued and the imaginary-Sherlock looked over his shoulder and threw an indignant look towards his real self and his friend while the imaginary Lexi raised an eyebrow at her real self and John as she turned back.

"Still fun…ish. Most of our cases end in some sort of fight anyway," Lexi said with a shrug as Sherlock sent her an exasperated look and then looked round at John.

"Do we really need so much colour?" Sherlock asked John, not wanting to encourage Lexi any more than she already was.

"It passes the time. Besides, Lexi always enjoys it," John said and Lexi grinned at him as she leaned towards him and put her head on his shoulder.

"My boys, always making this fun for me," She said, smiling fondly before she straightened up and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock gave John a look before he passed him his coffee cup. John took it and returned the look. Lexi giggled and shook her head at the both of them while Sherlock just ignored the look and took his phone from his coat.

"But if we do this ...," Sherlock told John as he pressed the security card against his phone. "If you press a key card against your mobile phone for long enough, it corrupts the magnetic strip. The card stops working. It's a common problem – never put your key card with your phone," Sherlock said as he looked along the corridor to where imaginary-Sherlock was back at the lift with imaginary-Lexi and swiping his card across the reader. The two imaginary security men started to run towards him again ... but then they started to go into slow motion and then stopped, frozen in mid-run. "What happens if we use the card now?" Sherlock asked John and Lexi who looked over at him, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"It still doesn't work," John said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"But it doesn't read as the wrong card now," Lexi told John as she and Sherlock imagined more imaginary security men running towards their imaginary selves before they too slowed down and froze in mid-run.

"It registers as corrupted. But if it's corrupted, how do they know it's not Magnussen?" Sherlock asked John who looked round two check if there was any real security anywhere around.

"Huh," John said, not knowing the answer to that.

"Well, would they risk dragging him off?" Lexi prompted John, as she raised her eyebrow questioningly and John hummed as he thought about it.

"Probably not," John told her, realizing that she had a point. They couldn't risk calling security on Magnussen himself and dragging him off…so they had to have some way to check and see if it was Magnussen or not.

"So what do they do? What do they have to do?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked over at the lift and scanned the room, closing her eyes for a moment and calculating as she thought about the layout of the building, including where the security cameras were all located where the security guards made their rounds.

"Check if it's him or not," John said slowly and Lexi opened her eyes, nodding as she gave him one of her customary looks. He thought back to the Blind Banker case when Sherlock and Lexi had seemed to know all the answers. This was exactly like that. In Sherlock and Lexi's mind's eye, they saw the imaginary security men near the lift shrink down and each one disappeared into a different imaginary waste paper bin, all of which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The bins then disappeared again.

"There's a camera at eye height to the right of the door," Sherlock told John and he saw and imaginary version of himself and Lexi walking over to the lift doors again where the security card reader had a flashing red light above it. He swiped the card past the reader and on a laptop elsewhere in the building there would be a repeated beeping sound and a message would come up on the screen reading:

**ALERT LOCKED**

**CORRUPTED CARD**

**CONNECT CAMERA**

"The camera relays a live picture of the card user to Magnussen's personal staff in his office...," Lexi explained to John as she leaned in closer to Sherlock who had one arm wrapped around her waist and she looked up at him and he continued on with the explanation for her,.

"…the only people trusted to make a positive ID…" Sherlock told John as he nodded, keeping up with the two detectives whom he noticed were explaining things together a lot more these days. They used to do this all the time like when they had duel interrogated and convinced him to go to their first crime scene together back in A Study in Pink, Sherlock still hating the name he had come up with for that case to this day.

"…it's also the only way to make sure that it is Magnussen if the card reads as corrupt without causing a huge scene. The last thing they want to do is call security on the man who could probably bring down most of the Western world. Joanna is considered to be dangerous because of her hacking skills and what she can do. She can topple any government she wants to John, which is why she has diplomatic immunity in all of them and she can do whatever she wants without question. Mycroft was forced to listen to her and he had no say in the matter when she decided to help the British Government. A lot of people are terrified of her. Magnussen is granted similar privileges to her because of the damages he could cause because of what he knows and many people are scared of him too. Now at this time of night, the only person still working in his office is almost certainly his PA which is good news for us," Lexi told John which is where she lost him completely. He could understand the part about people being terrified of Joanna, sometimes he himself was terrified of the petite woman who was now Mycroft's wife because she could be quite scary when she wanted to be even if she generally was really nice and he could also understand why people would be scared of Magnussen, everyone was terrified about what secrets someone might know about them, but he couldn't understand how having Magnussen's PA in the office would help them. Surely that would actually be a really bad thing for them.

"S-so how's that help us?" John asked the two detectives in confusion and they both sidled along the corridor and then looked round to John.

"Human error," Sherlock told John before he gestured to Lexi who sighed slightly.

"We've, more like I've, been working on a plan B. I knew that it was possible that I might not be able to hack the security and just dismantle it, which does happen from time to time, and Joanna will only go so far to aid and abet me in illegal activities before even she disagrees with them so I had to find a second way for us to get in. Even I can't get through locked doors so… I had to go the more normal route," Lexi explained to John before she looked over to Sherlock and held her hand out to him. He handed her over the security card and she gave him her coffee cup before she held the card up to John. Sherlock shoved Lexi's coffee cup at John so the army doctor was now juggling three of them because apparently he couldn't even hold his wife's coffee. "The stuff about the phone is slightly rubbish," She said and Sherlock went to interrupt her but she sent him a look which shut him up. "It is though. A phone will corrupt a card but it takes time which we didn't exactly have so I did a hack. Sent it through a card reader and changed the codes on it so it would read as corrupted. Now it will work," Lexi told them as she looked over at Sherlock. "I really hate you for this," She told him and he nodded before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I know, but it can't be helped," Sherlock told her and she sighed heavily nodding before taking a deep breath in and nodding again with more conviction.

"Well boys...," She said as she looked over to John and Sherlock and sent them a look before she walked along the corridor to the lift, John again looking around before he followed her, Sherlock walking a few steps behind her. She reached the lift doors and raised the card towards the reader.

**Lexi's POV**

"…here we go, then," I finished, taking a deep breath before I entered into my persona and remembered back to the Great Game as we now called our first run in with Moriarty. I started crying on cue like Sherlock and I had with Mrs. Monkford as I pressed the card against the reader, giving my eyes time to get red and my nose to start dripping so it would look like I had been crying for a little while. I saw John look a bit alarmed from the corner of my eye but Sherlock was grinning at me proudly. I would have rolled my eyes at him but a circle on the reader screen, and the words CAM GLOBAL NEWS at the bottom of the screen, both turned from blue to red and there was a beep.

"You realise you don't exactly look like Magnussen," John hissed at me, quietly, standing to the side out of view of the camera.

"Which in our case is a considerable advantage right now John," I told the army doctor quietly, barely moving my lips as I stared straight ahead into the camera, my voice thick from crying as I managed to shed actual tears. It wasn't that hard. It was easy enough to cry on cue if you brought up enough hurtful memories and I had plenty of those like Irene and then almost losing Sherlock several time over the course of the two years we were hunting down Moriarty's men.

**Third Person POV**

Up in the Magnussen's office at the top of the building, the laptop beeped its alert and showed its message on the screen:

**ALERT LOCKED**

**CORRUPTED CARD**

**CONNECT CAMERA**

Magnussen's PA walked across the room to press a key on the keyboard and Lexi's live image appeared into the camera at her. She walked around the desk to get a better look and frowned as soon as she saw that it was Lexi but the image was slightly grainy so she couldn't see that the girl was crying just yet.

**Lexi's POV**

"Lexi, you complete loon! What are you doing?! I thought we weren't meeting up until later when I got off?" Janine asked me quietly over the intercom to the security reader beside the lift. I sniffled more as John looked round at Sherlock and me in surprise.

"Hang on – was that ...? That ...!" John asked us and he instinctively started to step closer but Sherlock hold him back as I brought my hand up and wiped at my eyes to make my tears more noticeable.

"Janine, I'm sort… I couldn't think of who else to come to. Mary's been so busy with the baby and both John and Joanna just got married…," I cried, laying my accent on thick as I sniffled some more and I heard Janine intake a breath.

"Aww did you and Sherlock have another fight?" She asked me and I nodded as I let out a little sob, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth, laying it on real thick.

"Yes, this one… I don't know if we can make up this time," I told her shaking my head before I added a few extra sobs in there and she shushed me, trying to calm me down. "Can I? I mean… no I'm being silly... It's just… I don't want to see him right now and he's at the flat and…I just need someone to…talk to," I told her, making my voice hitch on certain words before I covered my face with my hands and moved my shoulders so it looked like I was sobbing.

"Oh don't honey. Not in front of everyone," Janine told me and I could hear the concern in her voice and I felt guilt but not enough to stop. Janine was a sweet girl but she had been my plan B. "I really shouldn't, but come upstairs and we can talk about you good for nothing husband," Janine said and I lifted my head and wiped my eyes again.

"Really? It wouldn't be a problem? I don't want to get you in any trouble," I told her and I cried a bit more as I acted like I was trying to calm myself down.

"No, you come right up honey," She told me and the card reader turned from red to blue.

"Thank you Jan," I told her before the camera switched off and the lift doors opened for us.

"You see? As long as there's people, there's always a weak spot," Sherlock said as he started to walk into the lift and I reached up and wiped my eyes, but John stopped him.

"That was Janine," John said and I nodded as Sherlock handed me his handkerchief and I blew my nose and cleaned myself up with it before giving it back to him. He pulled a face and I giggled at him as he put it back in his pocket before he pulled me back into his side and kissed my forehead.

"Yes, of course it was Janine. She's Magnussen's PA. That's the whole point," Sherlock told John as I looked back at our army doctor who deserved a bit of an explanation of what was going on.

"I got to know her after I found out who she worked for," I explained to John as Sherlock and I stepped into the left.

"Yeah. Stroke of luck, meeting her at your and technically our wedding. You can take some of the credit," Sherlock told John and I smirked at that. It had been a stroke of luck that. Sherlock wasn't against using Janine for our master plot but I did feel slightly bad about it. We needed an alternate plan and Janine just so happened to be the only person that would work. It seemed almost coincidence that we would meet her at our wedding and then three days later Lady Smallwood would give us the case. Magnussen's PA was the person closest to him just like Anthea was closest to Mycroft. I needed a plan B and thus Janine became my plan B.

"Je-Jesus!" John exclaimed before he looked down at the coffee cups he was still holding and then dropped them into a waste bin just outside the lift before getting in with us. "Are you two…are you two alright?" John asked us suddenly and Sherlock and I turned to look at him, raising our eyebrows at him in unison. "Cos you know if you are fighting…you can always talk to Mary and me about it. Fighting is a part of being married but…," John continued before Sherlock held his hand up to stop him.

"I assure you John, Lexi and I are not fighting. Quite the opposite in fact," Sherlock told him and I blushed slightly as I remembered what we were doing only hours before we came here. I nudged him in the side and he smirked as he noticed the flush on my cheeks. I cleared my throat and the army doctor seemed to notice and coughed slightly in embarrassment.

"We're fine John," I assured our army doctor. "That's that story we came up with to tell her," I explained to him before looking up at Sherlock and shooting him a scolding glance as he continued to smirk. For someone who was always so embarrassed and shy about sex, marriage seemed to have really brought out the opposite in him. He was a lot more open about our sex life now, particularly in front of Mycroft. "We knew that if I made it out that Sherlock and I were fighting that Janine would step in as a friend to help me. Human nature. Now we're both Irish and she works a high pressure job so it started off with me inviting her out for drinks after work. She's single and I claimed I needed time away from Sherlock because he was being difficult and with Mary being pregnant now and married, you having to look after her, and Joanna recently married, I had no one else to hang out with. I got her to tell me about work and in return I would tell her about Sherlock. At first I would tell her we were having little arguments. Like you said, that's a part of being married…course I don't get that because we never fight…," I said offhandedly as I looked back up at Sherlock and nuzzled my head into his shoulder. He smiled down at me and kissed the top of my head affectionately.

"Oh come on, every couple fights," John interjected and I looked over at him and shrugged.

"Well we haven't," I told him and he snorted at me and rolled his eyes.

"Sure you do. Mary and I argue about little things all the time like who moved this on who. I'm sure you two fought when you moved the coffee around," John pointed out and I frowned at him in confusion and shook my head.

"Is that what people fight about?" Sherlock asked him, frowning in equal confusion. "Boring," He muttered into my hair and I laughed brightly.

"There really wasn't an argument John. He asked if he could move it, I asked where, he told me, and I said alright. There's no reason to fight over it. We both use it, we both know where it is. Why fight over little things that are unimportant?" I asked John and he looked between the two of us with a look of surprise.

"So you never fight…about anything?" John asked us and I leaned back to look up at Sherlock, frowning thoughtfully and he hummed before he kissed my nose and I grinned at him before looking back at John.

"Never. We might banter, but now that I think about it we've never really had a proper argument," I said and Sherlock chuckled behind my ear as he hugged me tighter to his chest.

"A fact I am glad about Mrs. Holmes," He whispered into my ear and I hummed in agreement as I looked back at John as the lift doors closed and we began our ascent.

"Anyway, I told Janine that we were having little fights and then I told her they were escalating and that we were shouting at each other all the time. I've just told her that Sherlock and I might be ready to end it, a perfect excuse to get us up an into Magnussen's office. Also I got Janine a bit drunk and she let slip the things I needed to know about Magnussen's security so we knew what to expect tonight coming here and were able to form this elaborate plan thanks to her," I told John as I sighed slightly. I had been meeting with Janine every week, several nights a week for the last month and a half and feeding her this lie. Sherlock had gotten a slight kick out of coming up with fake fights between us but I had hated to even have to pretend with Janine that Sherlock and I were fighting. I had come home every night after drinking with her and just curled up with Sherlock and cuddled with him while he stroked my hair and let me know it was alright.

"Like I said – human error," Sherlock told John and I turned my head and sent him a pointed look. He kissed the side of my head and I melted like I always did. I could never stay mad at him for long.

"So what will you tell her? Cos she's going to figure out that Sherlock and you aren't fighting when you show up with him and you're all," John said as he gesture to us and how affectionate we were being with each other. Sherlock briefly looked at him before facing the front again, his face buried in my hair as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Well, we'll tell her that Lexi's entire friendship with her was a ruse to break into her boss' office. I imagine she'll want to stop seeing her at that point ...," Sherlock told Jon as he looked over at him again. "She'll most likely despise me too after that for the part that I played in the deception…but you're the expert on women," Sherlock continued and I shook my head, rolling my eyes slightly as I couldn't helped the slight smile that worked its way onto my face. John opened his mouth to say something but the lift stopped at floor 32 and the doors opened, affectively ending any argument that might have started. Sherlock kissed the side of my head and took my hand in his, leading me out of the lift as we walked out to find Janine together. I braced myself for the possible onslaught of shouting but after a moment Sherlock and I stopped and looked around more carefully, frowning as there was no sign of Janine at all. Sherlock, John, and I walked into her office but she still was nowhere to be found.

"So where did she go?" John asked us in confusion as the fingers of my left hand twitched slight, a reflex from the two years when I was used to situations like this. I was suddenly wishing for my gun which I had left back at Baker Street. I had wanted to bring it just in case but Sherlock convinced me not to. It had become old habit to always carry a gun with me of course that didn't mean I always did. I did however always have a knife shoved into my boot, one I had gotten on our travels actually. It was a short dagger with an ivory handle that had several Chinese symbols carved into it. It had almost been used to stab me while we were in China so I confiscated it.

"It's a bit rude. Lexi was sobbing and upset over me," Sherlock said and I nudged him in the ribs and he looked over at me, seeing my tense body language and firm expression. John walked across the room towards the window as I scanned the room, closing my eyes and listening for a moment before I opened them again.

"Sherlock, Lexi...," John called, and we walked over as John bent down next to Janine who was sprawled out on the floor.

"Did she faint? Do they really do that?" Sherlock asked me and I shook my head at that as I stepped forward and crouched down next to John and looked over the Irish woman carefully.

"No, she doesn't love me that much," I muttered as John took his hand from her head and found blood on his fingers. I grimaced and rolled her into a more comfortable position, taking my scarf off and bunching it up under her head wound. It didn't look serious but head wound bleed a lot which could turn serious.

"It's a blow to the head," John said as he bent lower to her and I ran my fingers under her nose and felt her warm breath on them

"She's breathing though," I told John and he nodded as I stood up, Sherlock giving me a hand. She was alive and breathing and now that I was assured of that fact I could concentrate on the fact that something was seriously not right here.

"Janine?" John asked the unconscious Irish woman and she moaned quietly as my eyes darted around the room. Sherlock looked round the rest of the office and we both saw something in the adjoining room.

"Another in here," Sherlock said as we walked across the office and I looked around the room, my feet moving silently as I treaded carefully. John looked over to us but didn't leave his patient. In the next room Sherlock and I looked at the unconscious suited man lying face down on the floor, then we did a full-circle turn to look around the rest of the room. "Security," Sherlock called back to John as I closed my eyes, listening again.

"Does he need help?" John called back to us and Sherlock let go of my hand before walking over to the man's side and looking down at him. From where I was standing I could see a small tattoo of the number "14" behind his left ear, even in the dim lighting. I scanned the room, getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Ex-con," Sherlock told John as I walked over to him and looked at the man closet, seeing another tattoo on the man's right hand between his thumb and index finger. The tattoo was five small dots, four of them in a square shape and the fifth in the middle of the square I frowned as I straightened up to my full height, Sherlock taking my hand in his again. "White supremacist, by the tattoo, so who cares?" Sherlock asked as he pointed back toward John. "Stick with Janine," Sherlock told him and John hesitated, apparently unhappy about leaving any unconscious person unchecked. I sighed and leaned down, waving my hand under the man's nose.

"Still breathing, just unconscious. Most likely a blow to the back of the head too, but Janine's is worse because she's bleeding and I actually like her. He'll have a headache, maybe a mild concussion but he's out cold for now. Stay with Janine, she was starting to come to," I told John and he nodded feeling a bit more at ease as he turned back to her now that he was assured that the other man wasn't in dire need of his help. That was what I loved about our army doctor.

"Janine, focus on my voice now. Can you hear me?" John asked the Irish woman as Sherlock and I looked around the room again before going over to the nearby glass desk which was clearly Magnussen's. Sherlock bent down, holding his hand over the top of it while looking at it closely, then worked his way round to the other side, looking carefully at everything as I scanned over the desk and its contents. There was nothing of any real interest on it that I could see and nothing terribly shocking either. Sherlock squatted down to the leather chair behind the desk and put his hand on the seat, immediately working out the temperature of the leather, he looked at me and I put my hand on it, closing my eyes as I calculated before nodding at him. It was around 35 degrees Celsius. In the other room, John looked up as if he has just had a thought and then he got up and walked to where he could see Sherlock and me next door.

"Hey. They must still be here," John told us in a stage whisper, while pointing back to Janine.

"They are," I told John a bit more quietly as Sherlock and I straightened up and my fingers twitched reflectively again, Sherlock looking down and noticing it. He reached for my hand and squeezed it and I leaned over, pressing an appreciative kiss to his cheek before I took a deep breath to calm myself. This reminded me too much of when we would sneak into buildings that house Moriarty's men to dispatch them.

"So's Magnussen. His seat's still warm. He should be at dinner but he's still in the building," Sherlock told John in a loud whisper and I put my hand on his arm as I put the final pieces together.

"Be very calm for me right now John," I told our army doctor and Sherlock and John looked over at me questioningly. "Magnussen is still in the building and he isn't down here so where is he and where is the person who knocked out Janine and his security?" I asked the boys and Sherlock looked around as I raised my eyes upwards and Sherlock looked at what I was looking up at.

"Upstairs!" Sherlock said in a loud whisper and I nodded at him as John's eyes widened in panic.

"We should call the police," John whispered as he took his phone from his pocket and I hummed slightly. Yes, on one hand we should. On the other hand we were also breaking and entering and I didn't feel like getting arrested. Besides, the whole point of this was making sure Magnussen couldn't press charges on us. He might know we were after the letters but if he had no proof we stole them he couldn't say we broke into his office. Also, how was he going to tell the police we stole letters that didn't belong to him that he had stolen himself and was using as blackmail?

"During our own burglary?! You're really not a natural at this, are you?" Sherlock asked John in a loud whisper and I rolled my eyes. He wasn't such a natural at this either. John sighed and switched his phone off again. "No, wait, shh!" Sherlock said and I threw my hands up in exasperation.

"You shush, your talking loud enough to be shouting. Whispering carries further than you would think," I told him and he held a hand up to me and sent me a look before pulling me over to stand at the side of the chair with me. He closed his eyes and sniffed deeply, holding his hands out to the sides. He opened his eyes and frowned at me and I tilted my head to the side and watched him curiously.

_'Do you smell that?'_ He asked me and I frowned before closing my eyes, shutting out my other senses as I sniffed in deeply. I opened them frowning again at the fragrance I smelt. As John went back over to Janine Sherlock and sniffed twice more, the final one a deep long sniff as I took another sniff, testing the air as I turned my head and took a step, noticing that the scent was rather strong but lingering on the air.

_'Perfume,'_ I told Sherlock, frowning as I turned back to him and he nodded as I shut my eyes and called up a list of all the perfumes I knew.

**VERSACE**

**No 5**

"Perfume – not Janine's and certainly not Lexi's. I rather like Lexi's but this is a bit overpowering," Sherlock said and I hummed in agreement, taking another sniff and shaking my head. No, it wasn't either of those two. The word's disappeared and I looked over to Sherlock who had his eyes closed and he waved his hand around beside his head as if to force suggestions from his own mind. He opened his eyes and suddenly we were in our shared Mind Palace space we had been developing.

**PRADA**

**Dior**

I shook my head, frowning and he waved those away. My eyes widened and we both pointed upwards triumphantly at the correct name as it appeared.

**Claire-de-la-lune**

"Claire de la Lune," Sherlock and I said quietly in unison aloud and then we turned around, grimacing.

"Why do we know it?" Sherlock asked and John looked up at us from where he was still checking Janine.

"Mary wears it," John said and I frowned, closing my eyes before snapping them open, my eyes widened slightly as I made a startling deduction.

"No, not Mary. Somebody else," Sherlock said, turning back and still speaking in a loud whisper. I cleared my throat slightly and ignored my deduction for the time being.

"Lady Smallwood was wearing it when she came to our flat that night to give us the case. Freshly applied too. It was strong. This is strong too so maybe whoever it was put it on recently," I told Sherlock and he hummed in agreement before we both lifted our heads as we heard a noise from upstairs. Sherlock's gaze became more intense and I narrowed my eyes, the hair the back of my neck standing up as I fell into a defensive stance. John recognized our expressions and my body language and he whispered loudly after us as we had already take off, running across the room to the stairwell and hurrying upwards.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" John whisper shouted at us and we paused for a moment to look up the stairs before we quickly continued on. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach as I caught the scent of something else, strawberry shampoo. There was only one person I knew who used that and I really hoped for all our sakes that I was wrong but I already knew that I wasn't.

**Third Person POV**

Up Magnussen's private penthouse flat, Sherlock and Lexi walked softly along the carpeted hall towards where they could hear Magnussen talking quietly and sounding very anxious and almost tearful. "What-what-what would your husband think, eh?" Magnussen asked someone and Sherlock looked back at Lexi who nodded before they walked carefully towards a partially open door at the end of the hall. "He ... your lovely husband, upright, honourable ...," Magnussen continued as Sherlock and Lexi looked through the gap in the door and saw Magnussen on his knees with his hands behind his head and cowering away from whomever he was talking to. "... so English. What-what would he say to you now? Or your friend, like a sister to you, what would she think…to find out the truth?" Magnussen asked her and Lexi and Sherlock leaned forward slightly so that they could see that the person standing in front of him was dressed all in black and wearing black gloves. They pulled back the pistol and silencer they were pointing at Magnussen and cocked the gun before pointing the business end at him again. He cowered, whimpering and momentarily lapsing into Danish.

"Nej, nej! [No, no!]" He begged and Lexi knew exactly what he was saying as Sherlock slowly pushed the door open. He pushed Lexi slightly behind him, knowing that he couldn't convince her to return downstairs. "You're-you're doing this to protect him from the truth ... but is this protection he would want?" Magnussen asked the woman tearfully, tremulously.

"Additionally, if you're going to commit murder, you might consider changing your perfume ...," Sherlock said as he slowly walked to stand a few feet behind the person holding the gun, Lexi holding onto his arm and looking up at him as they stopped. She gave him a long look, before she slipped out from behind him and took up a spot beside him, holding his hand tightly in her own. They could now see that the woman was also wearing a black knitted cap on her head, covering her hair. The potential killer raises the gun a little, turning it slightly to the left. "...Lady Smallwood," Sherlock finished while Lexi breathed in deeply and let out a heavy sigh. Magnussen straightened a little, breathing out a long shaky breath.

"Sorry. Who?" Magnussen asked the two detectives in a slightly stronger voice. Sherlock focused on the back of the assassin as Magnussen's gaze went from Sherlock and Lexi to the face of his potential killer as the person adjusted their grip on the pistol. Lexi tilted her head to the side, her eyes taking on a sad look that Sherlock didn't notice. "That's ... not ... Lady Smallwood, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said and the assassin's breath hitched as Sherlock frowned. The person in black turned to face the detective's, aiming the pistol at the both of them.

"Hello Mary…. I suspected… well I did always use to tell you that I hated when I was right," Lexi said as they came face to face with the shorter blonde woman. Sherlock drew in a breath and rapidly flashed back to several different times when they had been together and in each of those moments his and Lexi's many deductions about her. Then he was back in Magnussen's flat next to Lexi and the deductions faded, leaving many instances of only one word repeatedly drifting around her as she aimed her gun towards him and Lexi:

**Liar**

They too faded and he focused on her face as she stared back at him and Lexi. A single large word appeared beside her face:

**Liar**

"Is John with you?" Mary asked them steady as the word rotated around her head in his mind and then faded away.

"He's, um ...," Sherlock said shakily in shock.

"Is John here?" Mary asked them again firmly.

"Yes sweetie, he is," Lexi answered her calmly and she squeezed Sherlock's hand. The detective was slightly confused by how calm she was acting in this moment. She had just found out that Mary, her best friend and the woman that was like a sister to her was an assassin, had lied to her for a long time, and was aiming a gun at them. She should be a lot less calm. Lexi had always kept a level head though in any situation.

"He-he's downstairs," Sherlock stuttered and Lexi squeezed his hand tightly again. He squeezed back as Mary nodded at the both of them.

"So, what do you do now? Kill the three of us?" Magnussen asked Mary softly and keeping her pistol aimed in front of her, Mary smiled humourlessly over her shoulder towards him before turning her gaze back to Sherlock and Lexi. As Sherlock spoke again, Magnussen slowly lowered his hands and began to reach down towards the floor on his left.

"Mary, whatever he's got on you, let us help," Sherlock offered as he gestured to himself and Lexi who was staring at her friend and giving her a long look that even after knowing her for so long and being married to her he couldn't read. He shifted his weight onto one foot, preparing to step towards her, Lexi taking a deep breath as she moved to step with him.

"Oh, Sherlock Lexi, if you take one more step I swear I will kill you both," Mary told them and Lexi shook her head with Sherlock though Sherlock had a small smile on his face.

"No, Mrs. Watson," Sherlock told her and she stared at the both of them, he moth opening a little. "You won't," He told her gently.

"You didn't at Beth's pool," Lexi said and Mary's mouth opened a bit more in shock. "I know it was you now. Moriarty hired you. He never liked to do the work himself," Lexi said and Sherlock turned and looked to her, his mouth falling open in surprise. "He needed a sniper, you were for hire. You were trained on me. Now the sniper on John, they were bouncing around, all over the place but the one trained on me, they were steady and aiming for just blow my heart. I could have survived that…possibly. But it was you Mary," Lexi said before she took a deep breath. "So no, Mrs. Watson… you won't…," Lexi said and she and Sherlock started to lift their feet off the floor. Immediately Mary pulled the trigger once and then a second time. The first bullet impacted Sherlock's lower chest, just above the V of his buttoned jacket and slightly to the right of his shirt buttons. The second bullet impacted Lexi's lower chest below her right breast and through her coat, in the same area. Magnussen straightened up again in shock. Sherlock's eyes unfocused as and a slight look of shock appeared on his face as Mary sighed regretfully. Sherlock looked down at the bullet hole and after a moment blood began to pour from the hole as a dark red spot appeared on Lexi's coat. Lexi's eyes slid out of focus and her breathing hitched in her throat as she clutched Sherlock's hand tighter and frowned.

"I'm sorry, Lexi, Sherlock. Truly' am," Mary told them her voice a little tearful and Sherlock raised his head and looked at her.

"Mary?" He asked as Lexi raised her head and opened her mouth about to speak before she closed her eyes and then opened them, taking a deep breath and whimpering slightly before she looking straight at Mary.

"It's… okay… sweetie," Lexi told the blonde woman breathlessly and Mary's eyes filled with tears before she turned and pointed her pistol down at Magnussen. His eyes widened ...and the scene froze and a loud alarm siren began to blare repeatedly.

The room darkened around Sherlock and Lexi and a spotlight shined onto their faces as Sherlock stared ahead of himself in shock, Lexi closing her eyes and breathing in and out deeply as she slowed her breathing down, her hand clutching Sherlock's tightly. She never lost her grip on his hand and her pressure on his hand never changed at all. As the alarm continued, Sherlock and Lexi were suddenly running quickly down the flights of a staircase in a white-walled building. Everything about the place suggested that it was decaying and unlived in. The paint was peeling from the walls, the concrete of the uncarpeted stairs was crumbling, and the red paint on the bannisters was cracking off. Sherlock clung to the bannisters and held on tightly to Lexi's hand as she braced her free hand onto the wall as they continued rapidly downwards in their shared Mind Palace. Back in Magnussen's room, Molly, wearing her white lab coat, walked around behind Sherlock and Lexi.

"It's not like it is in the movies," Molly told the two detectives as she smiled at them. "There's not a great big spurt of blood and you go flying backwards," Molly continued and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes as the pathologist walked around in front of them and the scenery around her turned bright white. "The impact isn't spread over a wide area," Molly continued and she was now in a white-walled mortuary room and she walked over to two bodies lying on side by side tables in the middle of the room. The bodies were covered with white sheets and had identity tags tied to their bare toes. "It's tightly focussed, so there's little or no energy transfer," Molly explained as she reached down and pulled back the sheets covering over each of the bodies to reveal Sherlock and Lexi lying underneath the sheets, naked and with their eyes closed. "You stay still ...," Molly said as she pulled the sheet back to their waists, revealing the bullet holes in their lower chests, Lexi's bullet hole going straight through her tattoo that claimed, "Human after all." "... and the bullet pushes through," Molly said as she looked down at Sherlock and Lexi's faces and they could see her fuzzily even though their eyes were closed. "You two are almost certainly going to die, so we need to focus," Moly told the two detectives and she slapped them hard across the face. They hauled in a huge breath, their eyes snapping open as their heads jerked to the side under her blow. In Magnussen's room, both Magnussen and Mary were still frozen and Sherlock and Lexi's eyelids lifted a little. "I said ...," Molly started as she stood in front of the two detectives in Magnussen's office. "...focus," She commanded them before she slapped them hard again. Their heads snapped round under her blow and before they could turn back they were standing in a bright white room, still reeling from Molly's slap. They straightens up and looked around, bewildered. Sherlock looked at Lexi and grabbed her hand as she rubbed her face, shooting a glare at Molly.

"Oi, slap happy, I told you that you could smack Sherlock if he was being difficult, not me," Lexi complained but the pathologist ignored her as she started speaking again. They were in the mortuary room and in front of them were the tables with their own dead bodies lying on them, covered by the sheets as far as their waists. Rows of mortuary cabinets lined one wall. Molly walked towards the tables, leaned her hands onto the edge of them, and looked across at the living version of Sherlock and Lexi standing on the other side of each of their tables.

"It's all well and clever having Mind Palaces, but you two have only three seconds of consciousness left to use it. So, come on – what's going to kill you?" Molly asked the two detectives and they looked down at their dead bodies for a moment before they raised their heads again, looking at each other over Molly's head and sharing a long look.

"Blood loss," They answered in unison and Lexi's eyes flashed with worry and Sherlock would have moved closer to her if he could, but he found himself frozen in place and unable to move even though he was fighting to.

"Exactly," Molly told them quietly, intensely and Sherlock looked at her frowning a little as Lexi closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "So, it's all about one thing now," Molly told them and Sherlock, with his hands braced on the table in front of him, started to sway as Lexi tilted her head to the side and frowned as she shook her head slightly, black dots clouding her vision. The loud alarm finally faded out and went silent. "Forwards, or backwards?" Molly asked the two detectives as she looked between them. Sherlock lowered his head and his eyes closed as Lexi also closed her eyes before she pitched forward slightly and then they were both back in Magnussen's room staring ahead of themselves and Sherlock caught his wife, steadying her. "We need to decide which way you two are going to fall," Molly told them as Sherlock supported Lexi, her knees staring to wobble and give out underneath her. Behind them, while Mary and Magnussen remained frozen in place, Anderson walked over and stopped behind their backs. He was wearing white medical gloves and Molly walked towards Sherlock and Lexi from halfway across the room to join him.

"One hole, or two?" Anderson asked them and Lexi looked up, blinking blearily as she breathed in an out, trying to keep her breathing steady as black dots danced in front of her vision, fighting to keep conscious long enough to help Sherlock.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked him, frowning and turning to look over his shoulder at him as he helped lift Lexi up, sliding his arm around his waist and holding her up as she slipped and arm around his waist and helped to support him as well. They were always each other's anchors.

"Anderson?" Lexi asked, her accent very thick and her voice slightly weak. "We must be really desperate if you're here," Lexi laughed slightly as she looked over her shoulder at the forensics expert and Anderson raised his eyebrow in a questioning way at Sherlock before rolling his eyes at Lexi.

"Is the bullet still inside you ...," Molly said and the detectives turned to face her as she stood in front of them. "...or is there an exit wound?" Molly asked them and the perspective changed so that she was no longer in front of them, though Anderson was still behind them. "It'll depend on the gun," Molly added and Sherlock and Lexi turned their heads to the left and they could now see diagrams of many different pistols in front of their eyes. They zoomed in on one – which changed from a blue outline to a yellow one – and a tag appeared above it reading, "Cat-0208".

"That one, I think," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed slightly, her eyelids fluttering. They looked across the diagrams and another pistol identified as "Cat-077839" turned yellow. They moved on to another gun which changed to yellow. "Or that one," Sherlock said and he frowned, uncertain, and they continued through the display, another gun flashing yellow and showing its identification and then rapidly disappearing before they went to move on. Lexi's eyes suddenly fluttered close beside him and she disappeared from their shared Mind Palace as Sherlock was transported to a deeper part of his own mind.

**Sherlock's POV**

"Oh, for God's sake, Sherlock," A voice said and Sherlock turned his head to the right and saw his brother sitting at his desk in his office at The Diogenes Club. "It doesn't matter about the gun. Don't be stupid," Mycroft continued and Sherlock turned and walked towards him. Mycroft leaned forward and folded his hands on the table in front of him. "You always were so stupid," Mycroft told him and Sherlock continued towards him, but he suddenly found himself as a young boy again, eleven years old, the same age he was when Mycroft left him and went off to boarding school and started telling him that he was stupid and that he, Mycroft, was the smart one. Sherlock always felt stupid around Mycroft. It was what had driven them apart…their argument over who was smarter. He looked down and found he was wearing dark trousers and a shirt with a buttoned dark green cardigan over it, his school uniform from when he went to public school. He had been bullied there, tried to make friends, but no one ever liked him. He walked slowly towards his big brother, feeling just as small and as insecure as he had at eleven. "Such a disappointment," Mycroft told him, shaking his head.

"I'm not stupid," Sherlock told Mycroft angrily. He wasn't stupid! Lexi told him he wasn't, she reminded him all the time that he wasn't.

"You're a very stupid little boy," Mycroft told him sternly and he stood up and walked around the table.

"Meanie!" A little girl's voice shouted and Sherlock turned around as Mycroft looked up. A little girl with elbow length red hair, freckles, and bright hazel eyes stepped up to Sherlock as she glared up at Mycroft. She looked to be about five and was wearing a grey skirt and navy blue cardigan over a white button down blouse. "You're not stupid Sherlock," The little girl said as she turned to him and then wrapped her arms around his neck, enveloping him in a tight hug. When she pulled back she smiled brightly at him, showing that she was missing several teeth. "You're brilliant!" She told him and Sherlock smiled at her before Mycroft called their attention back, Sherlock holding his best friend's hand. She was always in his Mind Palace.

"Mummy and Daddy are very cross ...," Mycroft told them as he reached the other side of the table and leaned against it. "...because it doesn't matter about the gun," Mycroft said and Sherlock frowned up at him as Lexi tilted her head to the side, getting the same thoughtful expression on her face that her adult self got.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked Mycroft as Lexi asked squeezed his hand tightly.

"You saw the whole room when you entered it. What was directly behind you when you two were murdered?" Mycroft asked as he looked between Sherlock and Lexi and Sherlock looked over at his Lexi and pouted.

"We've not been murdered yet," Sherlock told Mycroft petulantly and Lexi leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Balance of probability, little brother," Mycroft said as he leaned down to them and Lexi let go of his hand before she stomped forward and kicked Mycroft in the shin. He let out a cry of surprise and pain before he reached down to rub his leg as Lexi grinned triumphantly. Young Sherlock laughed brightly and looked down, before the loud alarm began to blare again as he turned his head to look behind him. In Magnussen's room, adult Sherlock also turned around to where a row of panelled mirrors were behind him on the wall Lexi had fallen to her knees and was panting on the floor beside him. He could see Mycroft fuzzily reflected in the mirrors as if he was standing some distance away. Sherlock walked closer to the mirrors and looked in them.

"If the bullet had passed through you two, what would you have heard?" Mycroft asked him as he walked closer to him.

"The mirror shattering," Sherlock said as he flicked a look down at Lexi to find her unmoving.

"You didn't. Therefore ...?" Mycroft promoted him and Sherlock turned and slowly walked past him.

"The bullet's still inside us," Sherlock finished and he walked back to his original position and helped Lexi to her feet as her eyes suddenly flashed open.

**Lexi's POV**

**Several seconds ago…**

As my eyes fluttered close, Sherlock was pulled from our shared Mind Palace and I was pulled deeper into my own mind. I found myself in Mycroft's study, the one that we had had our meeting with Irene Adler in when I finally unlocked her phone. Joanna was sitting on the table and she smiled as I entered the room and waved her fingers at me. She hopped off the table, brushing off her brown pinstriped skirt and blazer before she walked over to me and gave me a hug.

"Glad to have you back honey," She told me and I sighed at her as we sat down across from each other in the armchairs. "Now, you got shot. I thought I trained you better than that?" Joanna told me and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Not everyone can be perfect Joanie," I reminded her and she nodded.

"I know, so what else did I teach you?" Joanna asked me and I tilted my head to the side and hummed thoughtfully.

"Don't eat yellow snow?" I asked her and she pursed her lips at me and sent me a despairing look before we both burst out laughing. "Alright, so the gun doesn't matter. The only thing that could matter from that is how large the bullet is. Problem is, Sherlock and I are going to die from blood loss before that is even going to matter," I said and Joanna nodded in agreement and waved her hand around.

"So what does matter?" Joanna asked me and I grinned at her.

"Well first of all, we have to take into account who shot us, Mary," I said and Joanna inhaled deeply and hummed, frowning.

"You know, I thought something was shady about her when we met. I thought it was just a blonde thing. No one can seem that sweet and caring all the time," Joanna said and I chuckled.

"Not everyone can be slightly mental Joanie," I pointed out and she shrugged at me.

"I'm my own breed of human," She told me, preening slightly as she picked at the sleeves of her blazer.

"You are, but yes, I started to have my own suspicions when I saw her again after so long. But the point is, Mary was the one who shot us. Back with Moriarty she aimed for a place that if she had shot me, I possibly could have survived. I was banking on that, I had to. I calculated for every possibility when we walked into the room as soon as I knew that it was Mary. I knew that she was going to shoot us, she had to for some reason" I told Joanna sighing heavily and she nodded at me.

"We'll figure that out later," Joanna assured me and I nodded at her and the way she was so sure that I would make it out of this. "Now besides calculating for the fact that Mary would be the one shooting you two, what also do we know?" Joanna asked me and I closed my eyes briefly, hearing a warning bell start up that sounded a bit like the TARDIS Cloister Bell which was apparently my Mind Palace's danger warning.

"Layout of the room," I told her as I opened my eyes again and the alarm stopped ringing. "You taught me to always use my eyes and check my surroundings. I scanned the room when we first walked in. Right behind us was a wall of mirrors. I never heard them shatter so that means that the bullets never went right through us. They're still buried inside us which is good news for us. That'll help stem the flow of blood a bit, not by much, but it'll give us a bit longer," I told Joanna and she nodded at me before I snapped my eyes open as someone hauled me back up to my feet.

**Third Person POV**

"So, we need to take them down backwards," Anderson said and Lexi blinked slowly as she turned her head and looked up at Sherlock who turned and looked down at her in worry.

"I agree. Sherlock, Lexi ...," Molly told the two detectives as she stood in front of them again and they turned their attention to her, Lexi blinking rapidly and fighting to stay conscious, as she squeezed Sherlock's hand taking her strength from him. "...you two need to fall on your backs," Molly directed them firmly.

"Right now, the bullet is the cork in the bottle," Anderson said, still behind the two detectives but now he started to walk around them to their right and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"The bullet itself is blocking most of the blood flow," Molly added as she walked around the two detectives to their left as the alarm faded away again.

"But any pressure or impact on the entrance wound could dislodge it," Anderson said, coming to a halt in front of them, looking at the two detectives.

"Plus, on your back, gravity's working for us," Molly said, now standing behind them and Lexi laughed breathlessly.

"Well I guess gravity isn't always a heartless bitch," Lexi joked and Sherlock coughed out a chuckled as the room took on a blue hue. Molly and Anderson shot Lexi stern looks and she rolled her eyes, not at all perturbed by their scolding. "Oh don't give me that look, I'm dying," Lexi said and Molly looked at the both of them.

"Fall now," Molly commanded firmly and Sherlock and Lexi's eyes half-closed and their bodies began to slump.

In very slow-motion they started to topple backwards. The room took on its normal colour as they slowly fell backwards. They were falling towards the right-hand side of the room, and the entire room seemed to tilt down towards the left as they fell. Mary and the kneeling Magnussen, still frozen in place with Mary pointing her pistol at him while she looked towards Sherlock and Lexi, did not move as the room continued to tilt further to the left, but a plant in a plant pot on the windowsill began to slide slowly across the sill towards the left side of the room. Before they hit the floor, Sherlock and Lexi were suddenly back in the bright white mortuary room, standing upright, and the alarm was blaring again with the Cloister Bell also ringing in the background. They stumbled back against the cabinets in the wall, and Sherlock clapped his hands to his ears and cried out in alarm as Lexi shook her head and winced at the loud noise, covering her ears as it got to be too loud for her to handle.

"What the hell is that? What's happening?" Sherlock asked Lexi as he lowered his hands and looked around in confusion.

"Danger! It's the danger alarm, our systems are crashing, we're fighting to stay conscious," Lexi explained as beside them two of the cabinet doors opened and the trays slid out. Their own dead bodies were lying on the trays with their eyes closed and the 'real' Sherlock stared down at them in horror while Lexi looked down at them calmly and slipped her hand into Sherlock's and squeezed it comfortingly. "It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more," Lexi quoted before she nudged him in the side. "Albus Dumbledore," She added and Sherlock looked over at her raising his eyebrow and throwing her an exasperated look.

"Do you think now is the time for that?" Sherlock asked her and she shrugged at him.

"Why not now?" She asked him and Sherlock went to tell her why before closing his mouth, finding he didn't have an answer. She had a point. Why not now? They might be dead soon.

"You're going into shock," Molly said suddenly, now standing on the other side of the tray from them. Sherlock straightened up and stared at her wide-eyed in surprise, trying to figure out when she got there.

"No I'm not. I refuse to go into shock. I haven't got a blanket," Lexi said stubbornly and Molly threw her an exasperated look and Lexi gestured to herself and then Sherlock. "Dying!" She said as if that explained why she was making witty remarks.

"Yes, and it's the next thing that's going to kill you two," Molly told the two detectives as Lexi nodded in agreement with her assessment.

"What do we do?" Sherlock asked Molly and Mycroft was now standing where Molly was. Sherlock, still wide-eyed, lifted his head to meet his gaze.

"Don't go into shock, obviously," Mycroft said and suddenly Joanna appeared and smacked him upside the back of his head. The British Government glared at his wife as he rubbed the back of his head but Joanna ignored him.

"Brilliant advice amante. Not helpful in the least. So what you two are going to do is try to slow your heart rates down," Joanna directed him as Mycroft looked around the room, the alarms blaring on.

"Must be something in these ridiculous memory palaces of yours that can calm you down," Mycroft said before he turned his head back to his brother and his last words echoed as Lexi slipped away from him again leaving him alone.

**Sherlock's POV**

"...calm you down," Mycroft echoed as Sherlock stared at him. "Find it," Mycroft ordered and Sherlock screwed his eyes closed, and now he was running in slow motion down the long staircase again, this time without his Irish detective by his side. "The East Wind is coming, Sherlock," Mycroft said and he raised his eyebrows at him as the alarm stopped blaring. "It's coming to get you," Mycroft taunted him as elsewhere in his Mind Palace, Sherlock continued to stumble down the stairs and his own voice sounded in his head.

"It's coming to get you," Sherlock voice echoed quietly in his head. Without transition a door opened in front of him and Mary, wearing her wedding dress and with a white veil over her face, stood facing him aiming a pistol at him. She fired and Sherlock screamed and fell backwards in slow-motion. Before he hit the floor he was suddenly in a long corridor lined with wooden doors. Mycroft's voice sounded in his head as he raced along the corridor.

"Find it," Mycroft ordered him again and Sherlock ran to a nearby door and pulled it open. White light flooded out and then he was in another similar corridor. Lying on the floor a short distance away was a dog, an Irish setter, panting and looking towards him.

"Hello, Redbeard. Here, boy. Come on!" Sherlock said and he leaned down and patted the top of his legs repeatedly, smiling at his dog. The dog sat up recognizing the sound of his voice. "Come to me. It's okay. It's all right," Sherlock called to him and the dog started to trot along the corridor towards him; and now Sherlock was his younger self again, patting his legs and calling to his dog. "Come on! It's me! It's me, come on!" He called and the dog broke into a run, barking as he continued onwards. Adult Sherlock was now squatting in the middle of the corridor, smiling with delight and still patting his legs encouragingly as the dog ran towards him. "Come on!" Sherlock shouted while his younger self shouted, "Good boy! Clever boy!" The barking dog reached the boy, who knelt down smiling happily and started stroking his head and ears. The dog had also reached the adult Sherlock and was licking his face while Sherlock stroked his head and ears. "Hello, Redbeard. They're putting me and Lexi down too, now. You remember her? She was in this part of my Mind Palace once with you. It's no fun, is it?" Sherlock asked his dog and once his trust companion and only friend. He slumped down onto his backside, looking weak and disorientated. "Redbeard," Sherlock said weakly before he found himself falling into another part of his Mind Palace, Redbeard barking in the background. He fell right into a part of his Mind Palace that looked like his and Lexi's bedroom. In fact, he was sitting upright in their bed. He looked to his right when there was some movement to find Lexi sitting next to him and she immediately snuggled up next to him.

"It's nice to know I calm you down," Lexi remarked as Sherlock held her tightly to him, kissing the top of her head as he did so.

"You always do," He told her as he leaned down and gave her a proper kiss. She reached up and cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

"I love you Sherlock," Lexi told him and Sherlock saw a sad look in her eyes.

"I love you too," Sherlock told her and Lexi smiled at him sadly.

"I promised you forever," She said and Sherlock shushed her with another kiss.

"Then keep your promise," Sherlock told her and she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone again.

"If you will keep yours," Lexi vowed before she pulled him down and kissed him deeply. Sherlock felt a tugging motion and he tried to hold onto Lexi tighter but she slipped through his grasp and he was dragged away from her again.

**Lexi's POV**

**A few seconds ago…**

I was dragged away from Sherlock again but found myself inside of the living room of Baker Street. John was sitting in his chair on his laptop wearing his oatmeal jumper and I immediately rushed over to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. He hugged me back tightly as tears sprung to my eyes. I pulled back and looked at my army doctor, taking in every line on his face and every sandy blonde hair, even the few white hairs. We had all aged since we had moved into this flat together. One thing hadn't changed though. I would always find comfort in my army doctor who was like a big brother to me.

"Hey, it's okay," John soothed me as I perched on the edge of his chair and he moved his laptop to the floor and I shook my head at him.

"It's not though, is it John?" I asked our army doctor. "We left you once and I vowed we wouldn't leave you again. The last time we didn't really die, we made sure there was a way out, a way to cheat death. There might not be a way this time John," I told John and he nodded at me understandingly.

"It's okay you know," He told me and I frowned at him in confusion. "You don't always have to worry about everyone else. You're always protecting everyone else Lexi. You need to focus on yourself right now," John told me and I breathed in deeply before I felt myself falling backwards. When I opened my eyes again I found myself standing in the middle of the gazebo at the Holmes cottage where Sherlock had purposed to me and the consulting detective himself was standing in front of me. I rushed at him and threw my arms around his neck, pulling him towards me and kissing him deeply. I let out a little sob as we broke apart and he shushed me as he held me tightly to his chest and rocked me side to side.

"Sherlock," I said as he brought his hands up and cupped my face. "Whatever happens…I love you," I told him and he smirked at me, the same smirk I loved and had fallen in love with.

"Quite right too," He told me before he kissed me deeply again. "I love you too," He whispered into my ear before I was pulled away from him and thrown back into reality.

**Third Person POV**

In Magnussen's flat, Sherlock and Lexi continued their slow-motion fall backwards, and finally they landed on the carpet staring upwards blankly. "Without the shock, you're going to feel the pain," Molly told the two detectives. In Sherlock and Lexi's bedroom, she was standing at the end of their bed as the two detective's convulsed upon it, their eyes wide and their teeth clenched. In the gazebo behind the Holmes' cottage, Sherlock and Lexi fell to their knees and started to convulse, as Molly watched them from the bottom of the steps, the detectives clenching their teeth against the pain. Molly looked towards them both, her face serious. "There's a hole ripped through you two. Massive internal bleeding," Molly told them while Sherlock and Lexi continued to convulse, their faced contorted in agony and their mouths open. They screamed and Lexi reached out weakly to Sherlock and grasped his hand, squeezing his fingers slightly as he squeezed hers back, the barest hints of pressure, but enough to let each other know that the other was there. "You have to control the pain," Molly told them and the two detectives slipped into their own minds once again.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock was running down the stairs again. He reached the bottom and, screaming in pain, ran through a door into a padded cell. The room was circular and about twenty feet in diameter. The floor was plain concrete and the walls were heavily padded with a dirty greyish-brown material. On the opposite side of the cell to the door, a man crouched on the floor, leaning against the wall with his head lowered. The door closed behind Sherlock and he flattened himself against the wall beside it, convulsing and crying out in pain. He stared upwards, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Control! Control! Control," Sherlock commanded himself and his voice quieted a little with each repeat of the word. On the other side of the room the man, who was wearing a filthy white straitjacket and had a large metal collar around his neck with a heavy chain fastened to it, slowly turned his head a little towards Sherlock. His face was still hidden from sight but his breathing was very loud. Sherlock stared at him, his eyes wide and his teeth bared. "You," Sherlock said as he straightened up and leaned up from the wall. Breathing heavily, he took a couple of steps forward. "You never felt pain, did you? Why did you never feel pain?" Sherlock asked as he panted.

"You always feel it, Sherlock," Jim Moriarty said slowly turning his head more and he turned his head some more and looked across at Sherlock, his face murderous. His face was dirty and it was flushed dark red with rage. Sherlock stared back at him. The lights around the walls flickered briefly and Jim surged up and charged towards him, his mouth wide and roaring with fury. Sherlock recoiled but just before Jim could crash into him the chain on his collar, fastened to the wall behind him, reached its full length and prevented him from going further. "But you don't have to fear it!" Jim shouted manically into Sherlock's face. Sherlock doubled over, crying out in agony and Jim stared at him, wide-eyed and insane, as Sherlock crumpled slowly to his knees and then slumped over onto his back. Jim continued to stare down at him while Sherlock writhed. "Pain. Heartbreak. Loss," Jim continued while Sherlock rolled onto his side, his face screwed tight and tears streaming from his eyes as he tried to fight the agony in his chest, Lexi not with him for once, leaving him alone in his agony. "Death. It's all good," Jim told him in an intense whisper. Sherlock convulsed on the floor, moaning. "It's all good," Moriarty repeated, now on his knees beside him as Sherlock laid on his back staring upwards and still convulsing.

**Lexi's POV**

**A few seconds ago…**

Control the pain. I woke up inside the one place that caused me the most pain growing up, my family estate. I was standing in the foyer of Castle MacKenna and my father was standing right in front of me. He stared me down and I felt exactly as I always did under his gaze, like I was a child again.

"Hello daughter," My father said coldly and I looked down, shuffling from foot to foot.

"Father," I greeted him, my voice quiet and timid now that Sherlock wasn't with me.

"Speak up when you are talking to me and look me in the eyes girl!" My father shouted at me and I snapped my head up and straightened my posture as I looked him in the eye, trying not to wince under his stern gaze. Then I realized something…. The last time I was in Ireland Sherlock proved to me that I wasn't the scared child I was when I was younger any more. I punched murderers in the face. I fought assassins, I even played the deadliest game ever imaginable with a psychopath and I won. This wasn't me. I wasn't a frightened child anymore.

"Alright then father," I said, speaking louder as I looked my father in the eye, treating him like I would Moriarty. Truthfully he was no more terrifying than the Consulting Criminal. In the end, Moriarty couldn't even scare me anymore. "You never felt pain did you? You just liked to inflict it," I spat at him as I stepped closer to him. "Did it make you feel like more of a man to slap a defenceless little girl around?" I asked him and I heard a loud crack as my head snapped to the side. I reached up and touched my cheek as I turned back to my father, my mouth drawn into a hard line.

"Stupid girl!" My father shouted right into my face. "You've gotten what you deserved. I told you once that you were never going to amount to anything. You and your good for nothing disgrace of a husband are just worthless excuses…," My father spat at me before my hand came up and I surprised myself as there was an even louder crack as his head snapped to the side.

"Shut up," I growled at my father as he turned back around to glare down at me.

"You dare!" My father yelled into my face, his cheeks turning red in his rage, and I stepped closer to him, pushing him in the chest and pushing him away from me.

"Yes I dare!" I shouted at him before I narrowed my eyes at him. "Twelve years of my life I let you call me stupid and worthless and you know what…? I started to believe it. I actually started to believe you were right. That was the only stupid thing that I ever did. Because the first man that came around who truly loved me, who truly cared for me…I couldn't actually believe that he could love me and that was all because of you. I nearly let you win. I nearly let a woman named Irene Adler win but then I realized that you were wrong. I am not stupid and I am not worthless. I am brilliant and you know what, I spent my entire childhood trying to prove it to you. It was never good enough for you though. You never cared. I started Uni at twelve. I earned a PHD by fifteen. By nineteen I earned four of them and even that wasn't enough for you. Nothing I ever did made you happy. Never, not once, in my childhood did you act like a father to me. You never tucked me in at night, you never wished me happy birthday, you never cared for me when I was sick, Hell you never once said you loved me. Alistair took care of me or Granddad. Alistair helped me start my consulting business and Granddad was the one that got me interested in becoming a detective. And guess what, I am a Consulting Detective with an international reputation," I shouted at my father, breathing heavily now as he watched me and I forced him to listen to every single thing I had held back on all of these years. "I've solved more cases than all of Scotland Yard combined. I've done things you could never even imagine. I've captured serial killers, murderers, angels of mercy, and corporate killers. I've battled assassins in my own flat. I became the object of interest for a psychopathic Consulting Criminal. I faked my own death to save my friends lives. I've disrupted terrorist plots. I've even killed people. I've almost died more times I can count now. And my husband is the best thing that has ever happened in my life. Sherlock not only loves me unconditionally but he understands me like no one else ever could. He taught me a lot about myself and he stood by me every step of the way in some of the most…. You know what I am?" I asked him as I smiled to myself proudly. "I am smart…I'm fierce, loyal, brave, and beautiful or at least that is what my husband tells me every morning and every night and every moment in between, and I'm also me. You spent every single moment of my childhood trying to break me down and feel worthless," I accused my father as I advanced on him and he had the decency to look scared. "I gave up and turned to drugs because of you! I wasted my gifts because of you! But you know what… you are the worthless one. Because I have Sherlock and I also have John and Mycroft and Joanna and Molly and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson and yes even though she just shot me I have Mary. They are my family. The only disgrace I see is you and you no longer have the privilege of calling me daughter, Lord MacKenna. I am a Holmes and I am exactly where I belong, at 221B Baker Street with my Baker Street Boys…," I finished before I fell to my knees, a triumphant smile on my face. "You were my pain, but you can't hurt me anymore," I told him before I fell onto my side and started convulsing on the floor.

**Third Person POV**

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked and in Magnussen's room, he was on his knees beside them, gently patting Sherlock's face as he had yet to see the red blood stain on Lexi's coat yet. "Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he bent down to put his ear against Sherlock's mouth. "Can you hear me?" John asked Sherlock before he looked across to Lexi who looked rather pale, paler than normal at least. He lifted his head and looked across to Magnussen, who was lying on the floor on his side but now raised his head. There was no sign of Mary in the room or a sign that anyone else had ever been there. "What happened?" John asked Magnussen, not at all concerned with the fact that the man had seen them.

"They got shot," Magnussen told him weakly.

"Jesus," John said softly before he flipped open Sherlock and Lexi's coats, seeing a lot of blood on their shirts around the bullet wounds. Lexi was bleeding far more rapidly than Sherlock "Lexi! Sherlock! Oh, my ...," John said in shock, trailing off as Magnussen picked up his glasses which had fallen to the floor. John straightened up on his knees and reached into his jeans pocket. He looked sternly across to Magnussen. "Who shot them?" John asked, only seeing Magnussen in the room but seeing as the man looked shaken himself he knew that he hadn't shot them himself. Magnussen sat up and put his glasses on, then looked across at John but didn't reply. John had his phone to his ear and an operator spoke.

"Emergency. Which service do you require?" The operator asked him and he looked down at his two best friends and the shocking realization suddenly hit him. His two best friends had just been shot and were bleeding to death.

"An ambulance. I need an ambulance," John said before he started to get to work at trying to save the two detective's lives, hoping that help would get there in time.

Back in the padded cell, the lighting had turned a blue colour as Sherlock continued to convulse on the floor, his eyes wide. Beside him, Jim was back on his feet and he began to sing slowly and softly.

"It's raining, it's pouring. Sherlock is boring ...," Moriarty sang as Sherlock sank down on the floor, his convulsions beginning to slow. Jim crouched down near his head.

In the real world and outside the offices, an emergency siren sounded as paramedics wheeled Sherlock and Lexi on stretchers towards a nearby ambulance. John was at their sides and he watched as Lexi's head lolled to the side.

"I'm laughing, I'm crying ...," Moriarty continued to sing in the cell, slowly and softly. He knelt down beside Sherlock, whose convulsions stopped apart from an occasional twitch. His eyes gazed blankly upwards, then begin to close. "... Sherlock is dying," Moriarty continued to sing softly before he grinned manically. "And Lexi is dying too Sherlock. Course she might already be dead. Mary did get her aim a little wrong… I think she was getting over emotional. Might be the pregnancy hormones," Moriarty laughed derangedly.

The ambulance was now racing through the streets. In the back of it a paramedic tore Sherlock and Lexi's shirt open and John finally saw that the bullet went in an entire different place on Lexi, in fact it hit close to her breast bone, right through her tattoo. From the way she was breathing, possibly puncturing a lung. An oxygen mask was strapped to both of their faces and in the small confines of the ambulance, Lexi and Sherlock's hands lolled around until they found each other. Their eyes were closed.

"Sherlock. Lexi," John said in despair as he knelt behind the paramedic looking at his friends in concern. "We're losing you. Sherlock? Lexi?" John pleaded with them and Sherlock's eye cracked open a little. He struggled to look over at Lexi whose eyelids fluttered and for the briefest of seconds a hazel eye met a blue- grey one before Lexi's eye slipped closed again.

**Sherlock's POV**

On his knees in the padded cell, Jim leaned forward as far as his chain would let him and he breathed out heavily into Sherlock's face. "Come on, Sherlock," He said softly as he lifted his head a little, spittle dribbling from his mouth. "Just die, why can't you?" Moriarty asked him in that same soft voice. He laid down on his side on the floor and put his face close to Sherlock's head. "One little push, and off you pop," Jim told him and he turned onto his back and looked up.

**Third Person POV**

In an operating theatre in a hospital, two heart monitors were letting out a harmonic continuous tone and a flat line suddenly rolled across both screens at the same moment. One of several surgeons surrounding each operating table did a few more heart compressions on Sherlock and Lexi's chest and then withdrew their hands. As the doctors turned away from the table, having been trying to restart their hearts for some time but now having decided that there was no point continuing, Joanna turned her face into Mycroft's shoulder from where they were standing up in the upper gallery with John viewing the surgeries. Sherlock and Lexi were both bare to the waist and had breathing tubes down their throats. Their eyes were closed as the monitors' single tone continued.

**Sherlock's POV**

In the padded cell, Jim was kneeling up and he talked conversationally as the monitors' flatline tones could still be heard in Sherlock's Mind Palace. "You're gonna love being dead, Sherlock," Moriarty told him as he looked down at Sherlock's still form. "No-one ever bothers you," Moriarty continued. "Mrs Hudson will cry; and Mummy and Daddy will cry ...," Moriarty said a little wide-eyed and manic. He was suddenly on his feet again and he turned round and round on the spot until his chain stopped him, then he rotated in the opposite direction. "...and The Woman will cry; and John will cry buckets and buckets. It's him that I worry about the most. That wife!" Jim said and he grimaced and blew out a noisy breath. "You're letting him down, Sherlock. John Watson is definitely in danger. And Lexi…," Moriarty said before the door of the padded cell burst open and the Irish detective herself was standing in the door way, leaning heavily on it as she used it to pull herself upright. On the floor of the cell, Sherlock's eyes abruptly opened. Jim slowly turned his head towards Lexi as Sherlock stared upwards and then looked at Lexi. Jim's eyes widened as the lights around the room flashed repeatedly. Sherlock convulsed once and blinked, then sighed out a painful breath.

"That's far more than enough from you," Lexi told Moriarty before she walked forward, stumbling slightly and reached down, offering her hand to Sherlock. "Love, John needs us," Lexi said before she fell down to her knees beside him, unable to stand unsupported any longer. "Let's go rescue our army doctor," She told him and Sherlock slid his hand into hers. "Together," She added and grimacing with the effort Sherlock started to get up as Lexi helped him.

In the operating room, the single tone continued and the monitor still showed a double flat line.

Groaning, Sherlock slammed his hand onto the floor of the cell and then forced himself onto one elbow as Lexi groaned as well. She tried to get up but fell back down, clutching her side as she panted, falling right next to Sherlock, her head pressed next to his. Sherlock savagely punched the concrete floor with all his strength and kneeling nearby the two detectives, Jim looked down at them with an irritated look on his face.

"Oh, you're not getting better, are you?" Moriarty asked them tetchily. "Can't you two just die? Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee?" Moriarty asked them and Lexi turned her head to look at him.

"Something you should know about us Jim. We would never leave John Watson in danger. Besides, who would solve our murders if not us? Scotland Yard isn't competent enough," Lexi asked him, chuckling breathlessly before she and Sherlock hauled themselves to their feet. They staggered and slumped back against the wall.

"Was it something I said, huh?" Moriarty asked them and he grinned at them for a moment, then his smile faded as Sherlock glared back at him, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Lexi panted, clutching her side as her breathing slowed down and her lungs started to wheeze. Grunting with the effort, Sherlock pushed himself and Lexi off the wall, turned to the door beside him and pushed it open.

"John!" Sherlock called frantically and wide-eyed and looking panic-stricken, Jim screamed out behind them.

"SHERLOCK! LEXI!" Moriarty shouted after the two detectives as they staggered from the room, supporting each other and he was alone in the room again and the door was closed. He slumped down onto his knees against the wall, taking up the same position he was in when Sherlock first entered the room.

In his Mind Palace, Sherlock took hold of the bannister at the bottom of the stairs and then looked over at Lexi who was sweating and breathing heavily, her face very pale. "Together," She told him with a weak smiled and he nodded at her in agreement.

"Together," He told her before he leaned over and kissed her. Grimacing in agony, they began to haul themselves up the stairs.

In the operating room the monitors gave a single blip and the index finger of Sherlock's left hand twitched very slightly as Lexi's right eyebrow twitched upwards slightly. Inside their shared Mind Palace, Sherlock and Lexi continued their painful ascent up the stairs, leaning heavily on the bannisters or bracing themselves against the wall. They cried out with the effort but they held on tightly to each other's hands and supported each other as they helped each other up the stairs. The line on the heart monitors blipped and showed its first spike. Simultaneously Sherlock let out an anguished groan of "John!" while Lexi mumbled a promise that they were coming. One of the surgeons slowly turned his head to look towards the monitors. Sherlock's face contorted in agony and he slumped against the bannisters as he continued upwards.

"Just a bit further love. We can't give up now," Lexi told Sherlock as she fell against him, barely breathing herself and Sherlock held her to his chest and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Just a bit further, we can…we can make it…for John," Lexi mumbled weakly as her eyes fluttered close.

"Don't you dare!" Sherlock shouted at her as he shook her awake and her eyes opened again and she blinked up at him blearily. "Together, we do this together. I'm not doing this without you," Sherlock told her. "You made a promise," Sherlock reminded her and she smiled at him weakly.

"And I intend to keep it," She assured him as she clutched his hand tighter.

On the operating tables, Sherlock's left index finger lifted off the cover on which his hand was lying while Lexi's eyebrow twitched again and then her finger moved as well. The surgeon's eyes widened, and all the staff in the room hurried back to the tables. Sherlock and Lexi continued their climb, Sherlock's right hand braced on the bannisters and Lexi's left dragging across the wall. The fingers of her left hand momentarily slid across the wallpaper of their living room in Baker Street. Now almost crawling, they reached up and grabbed the railings of the bannister as they dragged themselves upwards. One of the surgeons looked across to another unable to believe what he was seeing. Sherlock's face contorted in concentration and agony, as he grabbed at the bannister with a loud cry as they continued to climb. Lexi cried out in their Mind Palace as the heart monitors showed another spike and another blip could be heard. The surgeon looked down to Sherlock and Lexi again in shock. Sherlock's determined gaze was almost manic, and he forced his hand upwards to clutch at the bannister and pull them higher. Lexi groaned and slipped slight down the stairs and Sherlock growled before pulling her back up next to him. The heart monitors spiked and blipped again, though Lexi's was slightly weaker than Sherlock's.

In their mind's eye, Sherlock and Lexi saw a rapid montage of images: several moments from when Magnussen showed them the edge of the papers in his jacket pocket in 221B's living room; then Mary aiming her gun down at Magnussen in his flat before Sherlock and Lexi knew who the potential killer was; then the front door to 221B. Their inner vision closed in on the door and they settled on it, focusing in on the place that was there home with the one person that mattered more than each other, John Hamish Watson. In the operating room, Sherlock and Lexi's eyelids begin to lift as the heart monitors' blips become more regular. The surgeon looked down at them and suddenly Sherlock and Lexi Holmes opened their eyes. Their gazes became more focussed, and Sherlock's mouth began to close around the tube in his mouth in an attempt to form a word.

"Mary," Sherlock and Lexi whispered in unison before they turned their heads and blue-grey eyes met hazel. The two detectives smiled slightly before they lost consciousness again but their heart monitors remained steady as the surgeons quickly moved to finish the rest of their surgeries, sedating them after just witnessing a miracle.

**John's POV**

The next day, Mary hurried through the entrance of the hospital and across the foyer before she ran up a flight of stairs to where John was waiting for her on the landing. "Mary," John greeted her as he walked over to meet her at the top of the stairs.

"Hey," Mary told him lightly.

"They've only bloody woken up! They've pulled through," John told Mary his voice full of relief, having finally been able to reach Mary and even let her know that Sherlock and Lexi had been shot in the first place.

"Really?! Seriously?" Mary asked him, smiling and he missed the flash of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, you, Mrs. Watson ...," John said and he pointed at her, trying to look stern. "...you're in big trouble," John told her and Mary frowned at him, looking confused.

"Really? Why?" Mary asked him lightly and he missed the worried note in her voice.

"Their first words when they woke up?" John asked her and she shook her head at him. ""Mary"!" He told her and she giggled and he joined in with her laughter. They hugged each other tightly and Mary let out a loud "Ahh!"Over John's shoulder, her face became serious though.

**Third Person POV**

In Appledore, Magnussen walked downstairs from the entrance hall, walked past the kitchen, into the glass-walled study, and headed towards the wooden doors. He went down the spiral staircase and through the library, his fingers raised and flickering towards the shelves.

**Mary's POV**

A drip hung on a stand beside Sherlock and Lexi's beds which were next to each other, pushed close enough to each other on John, Mycroft, and Joanna's orders so that the detectives could hold each other's hands. A nasal cannula was on both of their faces and Lexi's face was turned towards Sherlock's and his towards hers. A rotary fan was on the cabinet beside Sherlock's bed and the shadow of its rotating blades flickered across both of the detectives' faces.

"You don't tell him," Mary ordered the two detectives softly and Sherlock and Lexi opened their eyes with great difficulty. "Sherlock? Lexi?" Mary asked gently in a sing song voice. They looked over to where they could see her beside their beds but she was a bit hazy. "You don't tell John," Mary commanded them.

**Third Person POV**

At the rear of the Appledore archive, Magnussen was looking at a folder which had one or two photographs of Mary paperclipped to the inside.

"Bad girl," Magnussen said softly as he smiled down at the file. "Bad, bad girl," Magnussen said in an admiring tone and his smile widened.

**Mary's POV**

In Sherlock and Lexi's hospital room Mary leaned down to Sherlock, her image still fuzzy to their drug riddled brains.

"Look at me – and tell me you're not gonna tell him," Mary told demanded of the detectives in an intense whisper and Sherlock's vision became even more blurry and his eyes closed as Lexi fought to keep her eyes open.

"Mary…," Lexi whispered and the blonde woman looked over at he, startled as she didn't think they were actually going to respond to her and her eyes met Lexi's the Irish detective looking at her with an expression of utter betrayal. "Get…out…," Lexi breathed before she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

**Lexi's POV**

**One week later…**

The top of Sherlock and my beds had been raised a little, and Sherlock opened his eyes and lifted his head from his pillow with a tired sigh at the sound of rustling newspapers. I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles and attempted to move slightly to get more comfortable. I groaned in pain and Sherlock squeezed my hand as I winced and settled back against my pillows. I frowned grumpily at Sherlock and caught the slight smirk he sent at me. He had gotten his nasal cannula removed but they were forcing me to keep mine on. The bullet had nicked my right lung and therefore without it I started having issues breathing after a while. I was told that I might have some issues breathing for the rest of my life, might have to have an inhaler with me or take it ease but after some time I would be able to live a relatively normal life. It would mean not always throwing myself into danger first. The newspaper rustled again and I looked over at the person who was holding the front page of a newspaper up to show the both of us.

The headline of the Daily Express read, "SHAG-A-LOT HOLMES" and the strapline read, "Sherlock is as red blooded as they come, claims the close friend of Lexi Holmes" . Janine put that paper down to reveal the front page of another newspaper, the Daily Mirror, which had a red strapline at the top reading, "EXCLUSIVE – SHERLOCK HOLMES KISS AND TELL" and a main headline saying, "7 TIMES A NIGHT IN BAKER STREET". Janine lowered that paper and showed an inside page of one of the broadsheets. A large photograph of me smiling into the camera while wearing a badly photo shopped on deerstalker hat had an inset photo of Sherlock with it, and the headline read, "He makes her wear the hat."

"I'm buying a cottage," Janine told us excitedly from where she sat on the side of Sherlock's bed near his feet. She slapped the last newspaper down and smiled at the both of us. "I made a lot of money out of you two," Janine told us and Sherlock lifted up one of the papers and looked at it while I rolled my eyes at her. "Nothing hits the spot like revenge for profits," Janine told me and I chuckled at that.

"You didn't give these stories to Magnussen, did you?" Sherlock asked Janine tiredly and she hit the bottom of his foot playfully.

"God, no – one of his rivals. He was spittin'!" Janine told us with a laugh and Sherlock grunted and smiled a little while I chuckled.

"I can only imagine," I told her with a grin before she turned and angry look on the both of us.

"Sherlock and Lexi Holmes, you are back-stabbing, heartless, manipulative arseholes," Janine spat at us and Sherlock pressed the buttons on the remotes of our beds so that the top of our beds rose, pushing the both of us into more of a sitting position.

"I did enjoy our conversations Janine but we needed someone who worked for Magnussen for the case. You fit the bill so I had to use you," I explained to Janine apologetically.

"And you – as it turns out – are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity-hungry tabloid whore," Sherlock told her and I looked over at him. If I could have moved my arm without much pain I would have smacked him and he knew it. He grinned at me cheekily and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"So we're good, then!" Janine said cheerfully and Sherlock and I both looked over at her.

"Yeah, of course," Sherlock told her and he smiled at her.

"Maybe we can go for a drink after they finally let us out of here?" I asked her with a grin and she laughed brightly at that. "So where's the cottage?" I asked her curiously.

"Sussex Downs," She answered me.

"Hmm, nice," Sherlock commented with nod.

"I have a cottage there too. My father left it for me in his will," I told her and Sherlock squeezed my hand comfortingly at my first mention of Alistair in a while.

"It's gorgeous. There's beehives, but I'm getting rid of those," Janine said with a bright smile on her face as she excitedly told us about it.

"Just send those over to me. I'll find a use for them," I told her and she nodded at me as Sherlock tried to push himself higher on the bed and gasped in pain as I attempted to sit up a bit again as I kept sinking down. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and clutched at Sherlock's hand as he squeezed mind, grimacing himself.

"Aw, hurts, does it? Probably wanna restart your morphine. I might have fiddled with the taps," Janine told us and I looked over at her and narrowed my eyes.

"I hate you right now. Do you know we just got shot? In a very critical place too. It hurts worse than you could imagine. We both almost died. Actually we did for several seconds….Point is…,"I said before Sherlock took over for me as I could no longer speak through the pain.

"How much more revenge are you gonna need?" Sherlock asked Janine before he grimaced and reached across to the machines between our beds and pushed the buttons to release a dose of morphine into the drips into our arms. The read-out on the machines was giving us almost the maximum dosage. I shot him a thankful look and sighed, wishing I could kiss him.

"Just the occasional top-up," Janine assured us as she looked around the room. "Dream come true for you two, this place. They actually attach the drugs to you!" Janine said and I snorted at her.

"Not a big fan of drugs though you know. Just say no and all that," I told her and she rolled her eyes at me.

"Not good for working," Sherlock added and I hummed in agreement.

"I know. It's boring in here. And we have to have separate beds," I complained as I looked across at Sherlock and we shared longing looks. We missed cuddling together.

"You won't be working for a while, Sherl, Lee," Janine told us and Sherlock sighed softly and closed his eyes a little at the nickname she used for him. I didn't particularly like mine either but I dealt with it. "You lied to me. You lied and lied," Janine told the both of us.

"Lexi exploited the fact of your connection. I aided her," Sherlock told Janine matter of factly.

"I am sorry Jan," I apologized to the Irish woman and she nodded at me.

"I know…," She told me slowly before she shook her head. "Well…got to go," Janine said as she stood up. "I'm not supposed to keep you two talking," She said as she reached down and picked up her handbag. "And also I have an interview with The One Show and I haven't made it up yet," She told us as she straightened up. "Close friend to Sherlock and Lexi Holmes spilling all the intimate details of their marriage. How many times would you like to have gone at it?" Janine asked us and Sherlock looked up to the ceiling with a soft sigh.

"Oh, I'm sure that you'll come up with something," I told her and she grinned as she walked to the door and then turned back her smile falling.

"Just one thing," Janine said and we looked across to her. "You two shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind of man and woman you are ... but we could have been friends," Janine told us and smiling at us, she turned and took hold of the door handle, then looked back at us. "I'll give your love to John and Mary," She assured us before she went out, closing the door behind her. Sherlock looked towards the door thoughtfully, then looked upwards for a moment. He turned towards the morphine dispenser and, grunting in pain, pushed the button to lower the dosage for the both of us. The read-outs showed the level dropping back to a lower level and he released the button with a tired sigh. We both closed our eyes and opened them in the wooden door-lined corridor of our shared Mind Palace. Standing up and fully dressed, including our coats, we stared intensely ahead of ourselves.

"You don't tell him," Mary ordered us and we looked along the corridor and Mary was standing a few yards away, facing us. She was wearing the clothes she had on when was first met her in the restaurant and her hair was styled the same way as it was then. "You don't tell John," Mary told us and we started to walk towards her and the word "Liar" appeared above her right shoulder.

"So ..." Sherlock said slowly as we continued towards her and many words, all saying "Liar" swirled around her. She looked at us, apparently unperturbed, while we circled around her in opposite directions. "...Mary Watson. Who are you?" Sherlock asked her as we completed our circles around her and turned to face her again, the words still swirling around. We looked at her for a moment, then turned and walked away, the words following us down the corridor. "Mary Watson," Sherlock whispered as I thought over everything I knew about the woman. We stopped and the words faded out and vanished. We turned to face her and in Magnussen's flat Mary's black-gloved hand pulled the trigger on the pistol and the shell flew out of the top in slow motion. In Sherlock's hospital bed, Sherlock's fingers steepled together on his chest and his eyes closed. He lowered his hands as the sound of the gunshot echoed in our ears. He sighed, raised his head, and tiredly opened his eyes.

"I thought I knew her," I said and Sherlock looked over at me in surprise. "Mary…we met when I was finishing my last PHD. We were roommates. She was studying to be a nurse. I was eighteen about to turn nineteen. We shared a flat in Dublin after we both graduated until I turned twenty four and moved to London. Meeting her here again, seeing her with John, I knew something was different about her. She's different than I remember her to be, course I don't remember her being a murderous assassin," I told Sherlock as I looked over at him. "Whatever is going on John may or may not be safe," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. "My gut feeling tells me that we need to get to the bottom of this. Mary…I don't want to look at it that way but she…," I said breaking off and Sherlock finished for me.

"She betrayed you," Sherlock said and I nodded.

"Joanna had her suspicions too. And I have a feeling I know where to start looking," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me before we both moved and with some great effort, slung our feet over the sides of our beds. I grimaced in pain and fought back from crying out. "The great escape…,"I said as I looked over at the window. "Well, this is going to be fun," I said cheerfully and Sherlock chuckled as we helped support each other and pulled each other into standing.

"Together?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded at him, grinning.

"Together," I confirmed with a nod before I pulled him down and kissed him soundly.

**John's POV**

John had left the two detectives to rest for most of the day before coming back to visit them with Lestrade at night. He was relieved that they were awake now and talking. They still were sleeping a lot, especially Lexi but at least they were alive. John had joked that it was the most he had even seen Sherlock sleep and the consulting detective had just glared at him but John didn't care. He would even take Sherlock insulting his intelligence if it meant he wouldn't be dead. They thought they had almost lost Lexi twice after they got the detectives stable again. Lexi lost a lot more blood than Sherlock had and her lung had been nicked making her injuries a bit more critical than Sherlock's. Her blood pressure had dropped dangerous low once and then her heart rated at dropped a second time and she had nearly coded. Sherlock had turned to her as the nurses rushed in and just simply squeezed her hand and said something about her not breaking a promise and she had responded with, "Never." She had pulled through both times and now, three days later, the doctor's thought that they were both out of the danger period if they rested and stayed in bed. Lexi still had to stay on oxygen and she had a terrible starburst scar around where she got shot as did Sherlock, she also had a thin scar from where they had to fix her lung, but they were going to live. John led Greg up the stairs of the hospital to the detectives' room, Mycroft and Joanna having gotten them a shared room simply by being the scary British Government.

So far as John knew, Joanna had covered up in the media what had happened to them. They didn't want anyone to know that Sherlock and Lexi had gotten shot while breaking into Magnussen's office. Magnussen was also surprisingly keeping quiet and John had a feeling that it had something to do with Joanna. She just told John that she had taken care of it and he had dropped the subject. Mycroft and Joanna seemed tense. They whispered together a lot but they also seemed to be closer as if they weren't fighting any more. John had to admit that they did actually make the perfect couple. Lestrade had waited a few days to visit Lexi and Sherlock to ask them what had happened in Magnussen's office as John had told him that they both were sort of not up for a whole lot of excitement. The doctors actually didn't want them having visitors. Too much talking or excitement could send them both back into another cardiac arrest. They hadn't even wanted Lexi and Sherlock in the same room for that reason since they were married but everyone that knew Sherlock and Lexi fought to keep them together knowing that the only way the detectives could rest was if they were together. One thing you never did if you valued your continued existence was separated Sherlock Holmes from his wife.

"Dunno how much sense you'll get out of them. They're drugged up, so they're pretty much babbling, especially Lexi. If you thought her giggling was bad before it's worse when she's high," John told Lestrade and the DI looked over at him, knowing full well what Lexi was like when she was high. Lexi was her own breed of crazy when she was high on drugs. When he suspected her of it before he had only seen her on low doses but when he had seen her completely high once it was…. "They've been singing sea shanties like they did back with Irene and just….They're speaking French again too. It's driving the nurses up the walls. I'm not sure if it's actually the drugs or just them being pains in the arses because they don't want to be in here though," John told Lestrade, drawing the conversation away from the touchy subject of Sherlock and Lexi's past substance abuse. As they reached the top of the stairs and walked along the landing, John looked down at the sound of a beep and realized that Greg was doing something on his phone. "Oh, they won't let you use that in here, you know," John reminded him.

"No, I'm not gonna use the phone. I just wanna take a video," Lestrade told him and he and John grinned at each other and Greg chuckled evilly. They made it to the detectives' room and John pushed open the door, going inside as he hoped to find them awake. Sherlock could be a nightmare if you woke him up and Lexi was no better. His worries were unfounded though as both detectives' beds were empty. John looked round the room, and his face filled with shock when he realized that the window blind had been pulled up and the window was open.

"Oh, Jesus," John breathed as he and Lestrade stared at the window, then John sighed and the two men exchanged a look. A slight sound of fluttering drew his attention to a piece of paper that was taped next to the window. John walked over to it and sighed heavily as he saw the message written in Lexi's handwriting. "Operation Archangel is go." There was also the sketch of two large angel wings on either side of it and a scrawling message, "On the side of the Angels" above it. John had heard that line several times, in fact it was tattooed on Lexi's back, one of her newer ones that she had when she had gotten back from wherever she and Sherlock had gone over the two years. All she would tell him was that it was a reference to something Moriarty said to them. On the side of the Angels…, but what was the alternative?

**Mary's POV**

"So where would they go?" Mary asked John as she paced across their living room across London. Nothing had gone right. Everything was falling apart, he was going to find out and she knew…she knew that she already had figured it out.

"Oh, Christ knows. Try finding Sherlock and Lexi in London," John told her on the other line form the hospital and Mary lowered her phone and hung up. That was exactly what she needed to do.

**John's POV**

John and Lestrade were on their way out of the hospital, determined to start a search for the two detectives. What the bloody hell were they thinking? Neither of them were well enough to be up and moving. They had apparently scaled the bloody building to escape the hospital! Not that that didn't surprise him. The entire plan had Lexi written all over it. Sherlock and Lexi needed to be in the hospital. They could be lying in the street somewhere half dead by now.

"They've got three known bolt holes ...," Lestrade told John as they walked away from the hospital, the D.I. holding his phone to his ear. "Parliament Hill, Camden Lock, and Dagmar Court,' Lestrade listed off. "Lexi loves Parliament Hill, especially at night," Lestrade added and John nodded knowing how both she and Sherlock loved the skyline at night.

"Five known bolt holes," Mycroft corrected as John stood in front of him in his office. He was sitting at his desk in his office at The Diogenes Club, looking down at a satellite map on his computer. The page was headed "UGLY DUCKLINGS". A note in the top right corner of the map read, "TARGETS LOCATED. TRACKING ..." and a point on the map was highlighted. As the tracker appeared to be somewhere around Warsaw in Poland, John assumed that Mycroft was multi-tasking. Greg was standing at the other side of the table and shooting glances at Joanna who was sitting on Mycroft's lap and working on the tracking program. Neither she nor Mycroft seemed at all perturbed by having others witness their display of affection and Mycroft was playing with the ends of her hair which was left down for once while she was at work. "There's the blind greenhouse in Kew Gardens and the leaning tomb in Hampstead Cemetery. The former is Lexi's preferred spot," Mycroft added and Joanna hummed as she sat back and leaned against his chest.

"She also likes the museum though My. Technically they could be anywhere in the city. I've known Lexi since she was sixteen. If she thought she and Sherlock were in danger or she thought they had to run, we wouldn't find them until they want to emerge. They survived for two years with people wanting to kill them, it's possible whoever shot them might have been back to finish them and they escaped before they could," Joanna told Lestrade as she looked up from the file she was flicking through now. "I trained Lexi myself. They're both injured but she'll keep him safe and he'll keep her safe," Joanna finished and Mycroft looked over at her and hummed in agreement before he looked up at Greg and dismissively waved him away. Joanna suddenly jumped up from Mycroft's lap and threw a hand over her mouth, pushing past both men as she ran from the room. Mycroft stood up quickly, a concerned look on his face and John frowned at the man as he moved around his desk to his door.

"Is she alright?" John asked Mycroft worriedly and Mycroft nodded, waving him off as he hurried to follow after his wife.

"She has the stomach flu, she'll be fine," Mycroft told him before he rushed off to go and find Joanna. John turned back round to find Lestrade smirking and he frowned at him in confusion, unsure what was funny about Joanna having the stomach flu.

"What's so funny?" John asked the DI and Lestrade shrugged at him as he looked back at the door that the British Government and his wife had rushed out of.

"Well, it's just…my wife thought the same thing when she was pregnant before she found out," Lestrade said and John blinked in shock before his mouth dropped open and he looked over at the door.

"Do you think?" John asked the DI and Lestrade shrugged again.

"Possibly," Lestrade told him and John started counting back.

"Hang on, she can't be," John told him as they started walking out of the office. "If she was pregnant and getting morning sickness than she would have to be around two months pregnant. She would have already been a month pregnant when they got married," John told Lestrade and the DI looked at him as they walked past the washroom and heard a loud retching sound and then Mycroft trying to sooth Joanna.

"So?" Lestrade asked him nonchalantly.

"So, this is Mycroft we're talking about," John said trying to make a point. Mycroft was posh, the bloody British Government. He wasn't the sort of person who would have sex before marriage. He was well mannered….

"John, he's a bloke. He might be the British Government, but he's a bloke. They were already living together. What do you think they were doing in bed? Reading the countries financial reports?" Lestrade asked him and John coughed.

"Yeah, I mean no, just he's a Holmes," John said as they walked past the grumpy men who were angrily looking at them from breaking the silence. John had since coming to the Diogenes Club, no longer cared about breaking the no talking rule. Joanna didn't care about it either and they couldn't kick her out. They walked outside and Lestrade nodded at him.

"Exactly," Lestrade told him with a chuckle. "Don't think Lexi and Sherlock were reading case files all the time while they were living with you either," Lestrade said as he opened his car door and John shuddered before getting into the police cruiser with him. He did not want to think of what Sherlock and Lexi might have been doing in the room beneath his. Well, they might have little Holmes' running around soon. That made John wonder if Sherlock and Lexi ever thought about having children of their own. Mary was already four months pregnant now. He dropped the subject once and they had both tensed up so he just assumed that neither of them liked the subject. They probably didn't want children anyway. John suddenly blanched when he flashed back to watching Lexi and Sherlock's surgeries. There had been a very nasty and ragged scar on Lexi's lower abdomen. The cut looked like it had been deep too. Oh God….

John sat in the canteen of St. Bart's in front of Molly who was wearing her lab coat and holding a cardboard coffee cup in her hands, feeling a bit sick after his discovery. That was why they never talked about it, why Lexi was always asking him how Mary was doing, about the baby. She couldn't have kids. Lexi couldn't have kids and he brought up the one subject that they didn't want to talk about. He didn't even know when it had happened. Probably in the two years they had been gone, but they had never said anything. And why would they? They didn't talk about their injuries much. Some sandwiches partially-wrapped in tin foil, together with a tangerine, were on the table beside Molly. She looked up at him and John blinked at her as he held his coffee cup in his hands, barely drunken.

"Just the spare bedroom…," Molly told John awkwardly. "Well ... my bedroom. We agreed they need the space. It got a bit… well awkward having them both out on the couch," Molly told him and she nodded, looking embarrassed, and took a drink from her cup. "It was nice having Lexi there of course. She's a really good cook. Just…well you know how they can be. They're really sweet together but…," She said blushing a bit and John coughed awkwardly, knowing what she meant. He nodded at her and thanked her for her help before he went to Baker Street to continue his search for the detectives.

"Behind the clock face of Big Ben," Mrs. Hudson told him as John sat on the stairs of the flat with a notebook and pen in his hand and Mrs H stood in the hall nearby.

"I think he was probably joking," John told her as he looked up at his former landlady and motherly figure.

"No! I don't think so!" Mrs. Hudson told him, shaking her head. "Lexi says the view is lovely. She's broken into Buckingham Palace before. If you can believe that than Big Ben isn't that far of a stretch," Mrs. Hudson told him and John hummed and nodded in agreement. She did have a very good point.

**Mary's POV**

"Leinster Gardens. That's their number one bolt hole. It's top-top secret. Lexi's favourite place so they go there rather than anywhere else," Anderson told Mary who stood in front of him and his female colleague in a car park.

"He only knows about it 'cause he stalked them one night," The woman told him tilting her head towards Anderson but looking at Mary. Mary watched them both and realized that this woman was slightly more than just a friend to Anderson. Well, apparently he had found someone in the last two years. He had divorced his wife since all they did was fight and he had stopped fooling around with the Sargent who worked at the Yard, Donovan. Lexi had told her that Anderson was a lot different than he used to be.

"Followed!" Anderson corrected her quickly and the woman smiled at him slyly.

"Followed, yeah," She agreed with him and Mary sighed. Why did love have to be like that?

**John's POV**

John was in the living room of 221B pacing and Greg and Mrs Hudson were in the kitchen.

"They knew who shot them," John said in sudden realization. The other two turned to face him in surprise as he stopped walking and looked at them. He pointed to his lower chest where they had been shot. "Their bullet wounds were here, so they were facing whoever it was," John said as he started deducing like Lexi had taught him too.

"So why not tell us?" Lestrade asked him in confusion as he walked closer and John turn3e around towards the window, blowing out a thoughtful breath. Why not tell them? "Because they're tracking them down themselves," Lestrade offered and John frowned. No, that wasn't it. Lexi's note was a message. Operation Archangel. An Archangel protected someone.

"Or protecting them," John said as he turned back to him.

"Protecting the shooter? Why?" Lestrade asked him in surprise and John shrugged at him.

"Well, protecting someone, then," John told him as he considered who Lexi and Sherlock would protect and who might possibly shoot them. "But why would they care? He's Sherlock. Who would he bother protecting? He'd always protect Lexi but beyond her he couldn't care less so it would have to be Lexi who is convincing him. She'd always protect anyone but why would she bother convincing him? Who would be worth it?" John asked Lestrade as he sat down in his armchair, then looked down at it and frowned. When did his chair get back? He patted the arms of his chair before Lestrade broke him out of his musings.

"Call me if you hear anything. Don't hold out on me, John," Lestrade told him and John continued to puzzle over the reappearance of his chair. "Call me, okay?" Lestrade asked him, frowning a bit.

"Yeah. Yeah, right," John told Lestrade distractedly, glancing round at him and Lestrade looked round to Mrs. Hudson.

"Good night, then," He told the older woman.

"Oh ...," Mrs. Hudson said and she walked over towards the living room door as Greg left. John stroked the arms of his chair with his thumbs, frowning down. Why was his chair back? It wasn't there earlier. Who would have even moved it? Lexi and Sherlock were both in the hospital so it wasn't them. "'Bye, then," Mrs. Hudson told Lestrade before she turned back to John and looked at him worriedly. "John? Need a cuppa," Mrs. Hudson asked him as she walked into the kitchen and John shifted in his chair so that he could half-turn towards her.

"Mrs. Hudson ...," John started and he cleared his throat unsure how to ask this. "...wh-why do Sherlock and Lexi think that I'll be moving back in here?" John asked her as that was the only conclusion he could make for why his chair was back in the flat. Sherlock and Lexi only ever sat together either in Sherlock's chair or on the couch. They didn't need his chair and Sherlock had moved it to get a better view of Lexi when she was in the kitchen so the only conclusion he could come to was that they thought he was moving back in with them for some reason.

"Oh, yes, they've put your chair back again, haven't they?" Mrs. Hudson asked him as she seemed to notice this for the first time too.

"Huh," John said as he sat back in the chair again, still looking at it thoughtfully. "When though?" John asked her in confusion.

"That's nice!" Mrs. Hudson told him as walking closer to him with the kettle in her hand. "Looks much better," She said before she frowned. "I don't know when. I don't remember having anyone in the flat. They had put it down in the bottom flat," Mrs. Hudson told him as John's gaze fell on the small table to the right of his chair. There were two books on it and in front of them was an ornate glass bottle, shaped like a crescent moon. He frowned at it. "John, what's wrong? Tell me," Mrs. Hudson asked him, noticing his frown and John's gaze was now fixed on the bottle. "John?" Mrs. Hudson asked him and John looked away from the bottle, turning his head towards the window. It shouldn't be here. Not in the flat. The chair, the books, the bottle, all three of them were for him. A phone started to buzz repeatedly but he hardly heard it. "That's your phone, isn't it?" Mrs. Hudson asked him and she walked across the room to pick up the phone from the dining table. She looked at the screen and turned back. "It's Sherlock, John. It's Sherlock," She told him and she held out the phone to him but John was still gazing towards the window. He turned his head to look at the bottle again. "John! You have to answer it!" She pleaded with him but John couldn't tear his eyes away from the bottle, a bottle of Claire de la Lune perfume. Having lived with Sherlock and Lexi for so long, he didn't have to be a consulting detective to put the last few clues together. In Magnussen's office they smelt Claire de la Lune perfume. Then they had been shot and seen the person who shot them. Now they were protecting someone but they wouldn't just protect anyone, especially Sherlock. Sherlock and Lexi also thought that he was moving back into Baker Street. The one thing that connected all of these facts was a word, a single word that they both uttered when they woke up…Mary.


	100. AGRA

**Hello sweeties! I am so sorry this is a day late. I went to the premier of Battle of the Five Armies last night and the day was filled with putting Dwarven braids in my hair and having a Hobbit marathon leading up to it. I wore a very long velvet, Elven dress to compete with Matt and John who were dressed as Elrond and then King of Mirkwood. My one pointed ear naturally stood out. Hey, it is something I acquired at birth. It pays off at Tolken events. **

**So just an update. I am trying to get the last four of Joanna's chapters written but I have hit a sever case of writers block on all things Sherlock. Also, sadly, the kidlock is not going to be happening. Whilst trying to write it, I kept losing Sherlock and Lexi and they were jsut too out of character as was John and the rest of the characters as needed for the certain situation. I really don't want to do that. If it is going to be Lexi I want it to be Lexi and Lock as we know them. **

**You are getting something special though. I am working on it now. I'm not saying anything unless plans change again. I did say Doctor Who story possibly. Not sure if that will happen or not as it is a really large undertaking and I have to see if it is possible to accomplish with school and with everything else I have on my plate because of recent medical problems that aren't just vision related. Bare with me. You will be getting another series, I just don't know what it will be just yet. I have a few ideas in the works. I really only have the time to concentrate on one so I have to look and see what that will be. For now Allonsy and the conclusion of The Resident Sociopaths of 221B comes tomorrow.**

**It has been a very long journey and thank you for everyone who has stuck with this story to the end of it. DO not despair however. Our detectives will be back in the Sherlock special and I will be continuing on with this story as soon as season 4 comes along. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Eight -A.G.R.A<strong>

**Mary's POV**

Mary walked along a road towards Leinster Gardens the darkness lit by the crescent moon above her. It was an expensive-looking area, with a long terrace of four-storey white-plastered Edwardian buildings lining the road. Of course Sherlock and Lexi would come here. A homeless person was squatting with his back to the wall at the corner of the road. He had the hood of his jacket pulled over his head, a blanket wrapped around him, and a white plastic tub was on the ground in front of him.

"Spare any change, love?" The homeless man asked Mary hoarsely, as she walked past him.

"No," Mary told him shortly without stopping.

"Oh, come on, love. Don't be like all the rest," The homeless man complained hoarsely. Mary stopped, sighing before she turned back to him and took a handful of loose change from her coat pocket. She bent down and dropped the coins into the tub. Before she could fully straighten up or withdraw her hand, the man took hold of her wrist and looked up at her.

"Rule One of looking for Sherlock and Lexi 'olmes ...," Billy Wiggins told her in his normal voice as Mary recognized the boy that Lexi and Sherlock had taken under their wings and the boy put a phone and a headset into her hand. "...'ey find you. Shoo should know that about Lexi already," Billy told her as he stood up, picking up his tub.

"You're working for Sherlock and Lexi now," Mary said in surprise. Sherlock and Lexi never worked with anyone and if they did it was only with John. They didn't trust others especially after coming back to London. They only trusted each other, each other and John.

"Keeps me off the streets, dunnit?" Billy asked her and Mary looked around the cold street they were standing on pointedly.

"Well ... no," She told him with a shrug and Billy shook his head at her.

"Actually it does. She found me a place," Billy told her and he smiled before the phone in her hand started to ring. "Best get that. She didn't seem in the mood to be kept waiting," He told her and Mary put the headset into her ear as Billy turned and walked away and Mary answered the phone.

"Where are you?" Mary asked as she walked along the road.

"Can't you see us?" Sherlock asked her, answering her question with another question.

"Well, what am I looking for?" Mary asked Sherlock, a little uneasy that Lexi had yet to speak as she checked both sides of the street.

Lexi…upon seeing her again Mary had known that something was different about her old friend. It was more than her being a better detective than when she had started out. Lexi had always been brilliant but now… now it was like she could see right through her, like she was transparent. She also was more skilled. She could read a skip code, she was a hacker, and she had even broken in Buckingham Palace if that was true. She was nothing like the girl she remembered from Dublin. A lot had changed in over seven year for the both of them. If Mary was right Joanna had something to do with whatever Lexi had been taught. Mary was careful around Joanna. She was not a woman to be messed with and while they were friendly with each other while they were around Lexi…their relationship was strained when they were alone together. Mary suspected that Joanna knew something about her, how much she had no idea. Knowing Joanna's job, her work….

"The lie – the lie of Leinster Gardens – hidden in plain sight," Sherlock told her and she stepped a few feet into the road so that she could get a better view of the tall houses.

"Bit ironic once you think about it," Lexi said suddenly and Mary breathed in sharply and paused in the street. "We've always had a flare for the dramatic though," Lexi said and Mary continued along the road while looking at the house fronts. There was nobody else in the street and no cars were driving along it. For once, London was completely silent.

"Hardly anyone notices. People live here for years and never see it, but if you are what I think you are, it'll take you less than a minute," Sherlock told her as she continued to walk slowly along the road.

"And I already know what you are. I over looked it when I made the first deduction because it was you but I still noticed it," Lexi told her and Mary bit her lip. Of course Lexi had figured it out. She never wanted her to know. It wasn't just John she didn't want to know the truth.

"The houses, Mary. Look at the houses," Sherlock directed her.

"How did you two know I'd come here?" Mary asked the detectives in confusion.

"We knew you'd talk to the people no-one else would bother with," Sherlock told her and Lexi hummed slightly in agreement.

"I thought I was being clever," Mary laughed briefly.

"Philp thought he was being clever too. He's terrible at following people thought. But you were always clever Mary and I always noticed that," Lexi told her and Mary tilted her head to the side, her eyes filling with tears slightly at Lexi's praise for her. Lexi always thought so highly of her but would she still think the same if she knew the truth.

"We were relying on that. We planted the information for you to find," Sherlock told Mary as she slowed down and looked at a couple of adjoining houses in the middle of the terrace.

"Ohh," Mary said, impressed. She stopped and turned to face the two houses which had caught her attention. Although there was no light shining from any of the windows, unlike the others on either side, the houses otherwise looked similar to the rest of the terrace. To the untrained eye there was no difference but of course, she wasn't untrained.

"Thirty seconds," Sherlock told her and she knew that he would be counting.

"What am I looking at?" Mary asked him and Lexi directed her like she always did John.

"Use your eyes, notice everything. Don't just see, observe," Lexi told her, slightly harshly and Mary flinched slightly.

"No door knobs, no letter box ...," Sherlock listed and Mary looked towards the two front doors to confirm this, then raised her eyes to the windows in which the glass was opaque. "...painted windows. Twenty-three and twenty-four Leinster Gardens..." Sherlock told her before pausing and sighing gently. "...the empty houses. They were demolished years ago to make way for the London Underground, a vent for the old steam trains," Sherlock explained and Lexi chuckled slightly at that.

"A fact that our train expert was all too willing to explain to us in great detail," Lexi said and Mary could her the smile in her voice before she grew more serious. "Only the very front section of the houses still remain, the rest was all converted for the Underground. It's just a façade," Lexi told Mary before she drew in a deep breath which sounded pained.

"Remind you of anyone, Mary? A façade," Sherlock asked Mary, his voice slightly clipped and Mary knew it was because Lexi was in pain.

"You lied for a very long time, not just to me though, to everyone. A perfect mask, an entirely new identity," Lexi said, sounding breathless and at that moment a picture was projected onto the front of the two houses. Three storeys high, stretching from the first floor to the third, it was a photograph of herself. The picture, obviously taken on her wedding day, was a head shot only and showed her wearing her headdress with the white veil surrounding her head as she smiled happily at the camera. Mary turned and looked behind her, trying to see where the picture was being projected from.

"Sorry. We never could resist a touch of drama," Sherlock said and Lexi chuckled breathlessly. Mary turned back and looked at her image on the houses. "Do come in. It's a little cramped," Sherlock invited and Mary started to walk towards the houses.

"Do you own this place?" Mary asked Sherlock as she looked at the building closer, checking the street up and down and seeing that no one was coming again.

"Mmm. I won it in a card game with the Clarence House Cannibal," Sherlock told her with a light hum. One of the two adjacent front doors was slightly ajar and there was light behind it. Mary walked towards that door cautiously. "Nearly cost me my kidneys, but fortunately I had a ...," Sherlock said as he drew in a breath, "...straight flush," Sherlock joked before Mary heard Lexi smack him. "Woman! Will you stop that?" Sherlock asked her as Mary pushed open the door and looked inside. On the wall inside the door was an empty socket for a large electric plug and beside it was a fuse box

"You're lucky we hadn't met yet. Could you be more stupid?" Lexi asked him and Mary had to smirk at that. She did always love when Lexi hit him when he was being an idiot.

"I've never been lucky for that," Sherlock said and Mary heard him kiss the side of Lexi's head. "But to remain on the subject…quite a gambler, that woman," Sherlock said as Mary walked inside. All that remained of the house was a long narrow corridor running along the front of the house. She looked back behind her for a moment, having learnt to from years of practice, and then focused on the corridor. It was lit at her end, and at the other end a bright light shined towards her, obscuring her view of the far end, but she could just about see two shapes sitting on a chair in the shadows under the light. She stared at the shapes and drew in a breath.

"What do you want, Sherlock, Lexi?" Mary asked the two detectives.

"Well, that all depends on you really at this point," Lexi said as Mary made out a medical drip hanging beside the figures.

"Mary Morstan was stillborn in October 1972. Her gravestone is in Chiswick Cemetery where – eighteen years ago – you acquired her name and date of birth and thereafter her identity," Sherlock said as Mary started walking slowly along the corridor. "That's why you don't have 'friends' from before that date," Sherlock continued as Mary continued to walk slowly along the corridor. "It's an old enough technique, known to the kinds of people who can recognise a skip-code on sight..."

"I know how to do it because Joanna taught me. Just in case the need ever arose. These sorts of people though they also would…" Lexi said trailing off as Mary walked towards the seated figures who she could now see a little better. Although their faces were still obscured in shadow she could see that the two people were sitting in wheelchairs. The medical drips were on a stand behind the chairs and the recognisable shape of morphine dispensers could be seen attached to the stands.

"...have extraordinarily retentive memories ...Sherlock said picking up for her as Mary thought back to the wedding when she and Lexi had recalled the room number that Sholto was in first.

"You were very slow," Mary told him as she stopped about halfway along the corridor.

"He deletes things but I can't. See I met Joanna first. I thought this was something new, something that happened in the last seven years since we didn't see each other much or talk to each other even, but I figured out that this was going on all the way back when we were in Uni together. That was when you became Mary Elizabeth Morstan, the same year you enrolled at the University of Edinburg," Lexi commented and Mary inhaled sharply at the fact that she had figured that out.

"How good a shot are you?" Sherlock asked her suddenly and Mary reached inside her coat, pulled out her pistol and cocked it, holding it down by her side.

"How badly do you two want to find out?" Mary asked them, not wanting to have to go through this all over again but she would if it meant keeping her secret safe from John. They already knew far too much about her.

"If we die here, our bodies will be found in a building with your face projected on the front of it. Lexi's assured that it can't be easily turned off either. Even Scotland Yard could get somewhere with that," Sherlock told Mary and she nodded her head in agreement, still looking towards the shadowed figures at the end of the corridor. She could see one side of the popped coat collar protruding out of the shadows and the top of Lexi's popped collar as well.

"Joanna also knows everything and a file will go out to the Homeless Network in the next twenty four hours if I don't shut down the system myself detailing instructions about what to do and who to go to," Lexi said and Mary knew that she wasn't bluffing. Lexi would never put Sherlock in any danger and right now she knew that Lexi would see her as a threat. It hurt but Lexi was right for thinking it.

"We want to know how good you are," Sherlock told Mary who was a bit wary to use a gun around Sherlock when Lexi was there. "Go on. Show us. The doctor's wife must be a little bit bored by now," Sherlock told her softly, encouragingly. Shifting her pistol in her grip, Mary looked down and reached into her shoulder bag and took out a fifty pence coin. If Sherlock was asking then it was something Lexi was comfortable with. Balancing it on her thumb and forefinger, Mary looked up to gauge the height of the ceiling, then flicked the coin high into the air, raised the gun, and fired at it. The ejected shell pinged off the wall in front of her and she turned and lowered her head to avoid the coin as it fell down to the floor. She turned to look at the shadowed figure.

"Care to compare?" Lexi asked from behind her, the phone switched off in Mary's hand as Sherlock and Lexi walked up behind her and Mary peered towards the shadowy figures sitting at the end of the corridor, then lowered her head and turned to Sherlock and Lexi, laughing quietly.)

"They're dummies," Mary said as she took the headset from her ear. "I suppose it was a fairly obvious trick," Mary said as Lexi took a fifty pence coin from her pocket and balanced it on her thumb and forefinger. Mary eyed her for a long moment as Lexi brought her own gun out of her pocket and cocked it, holding it at her side. Lexi flicked the coin high into the air before firing at it and the three of them ducked out of the way as the coin fell and Lexi reached out at caught it. Mary walked a few paces forward and put her foot against the coin and sent it sliding across the floor towards the two detectives. Sherlock put his foot onto it to stop it. He looked at her as she continued her slow walk towards them, then he bent down and picked up the coin. When he straightened up and spoke, his voice was tight with pain and Lexi's hand was instantly around his bicep, supporting him.

"And yet, over a distance of six feet, you failed to make a kill shot," Sherlock said as he held up the coin to show the hole shot through it which was off centre. Lexi held up her own coin and Mary was surprised to see the hole that was shot almost completely dead centre through the coin, a better shot than even her own. She looked at the two detectives and really noticed how they looked now. They were both shaky on their feet, leaning heavily upon each other for support and they were sweating and breathing heavily. Lexi put her gun back into her pocket and clutched her side, her breathing making a wheezing sound. "Enough to hospitalise us; not enough to kill us. That wasn't a miss," Sherlock told Mary as the two detectives smiled at her slightly. "That was surgery," Sherlock told her and Mary meet their gazes for a moment, then lowered her eyes. "We'll take the case," Sherlock told her suddenly.

"What case?" Mary asked him in confusion as she looked up at them again.

"Yours," Sherlock told her, giving her a stern look. "Why didn't you come to us in the first place?" Sherlock asked her a little angrily.

"You knew I would help you Mary. Yes, I'm hurt that you lied all this time, since we met, but I understand. I do or at least I'm trying to," Lexi told her and Mary's heart clenched painfully. That was Lexi, so compassionate and caring. That was why everyone loved her, especially John. John lived her like a sister just as much as he loved Sherlock like a brother.

"Because John can't ever know that I lied to him. It would break him and I would lose him forever – and, Lexi, Sherlock, I will never let that happen," Mary told them and they turned as if to walk away, Lexi giving her a long look, and she took a step towards them. "Please ...," Mary begged them. "...understand. There is nothing in this world that I would not do to stop that happening," Mary warned them and Sherlock and Lexi turned away from her, Lexi giving her a sad look.

"Sorry," Sherlock told her as he turned away.

"We're so sorry," Lexi added as Sherlock walked to the fuse box and put his hand onto one of the switches before looking back towards her.

"Not that obvious a trick," Sherlock told her before he flicked the switch and all the lights came on. Behind Mary at the far end of the corridor there was slight movement. Even though she had not seen it, her face filled with dread as she realized the truth just from the looked of sadness in Lexi's eyes. Lowering her eyes and letting out a breath, Mary turned to look along the corridor to where the figures at the end could now be seen clearly. Mary gasps in shock. Her husband was sitting in one of the wheelchairs next to a dummy dressed in Lexi's coat with a wig on, looking back at her with no expression in his eyes. His hair was ruffled to make it look bigger and he was wearing a black jacket with the collar popped. Slowly he stood up and began to stroke his hair back down. "Now talk, and sort it out. Do it quickly," Sherlock told them and Lexi looked back at him and shared a long look with him before he nodded at her and she turned back to Mary who was staring at her and John who was looking past Mary to the two detectives.

"Marriage is built upon trust and communication. John, you wondered why Sherlock and I never fight and it's because we don't let things get in the way, we talk. We rely upon each other. It's a partnership and we completely trust each other. And you know what? When we were dying we held on to each other. You need to sort this out and talk about it," Lexi said and she raised her hand when Mary and John went to speak at the same time. "John I know you are beyond mad right now and Mary I know you are hurt, but if you love each other like you vowed that you did on your wedding day…talk. 'Cos this isn't just about the two of you now. This is about the three of you," Lexi said as she looked down to Mary's abdomen, Mary moving her hand to her stomach as John looked down too, Sherlock wrapping an arm around Lexi's waist, also drawing John's attention. "So you two are going to talk and I am not expecting it to end perfectly, but it is time to start communicating. We did that once," Lexi said as she looked up at Sherlock. "We stopped talking and we didn't say anything and we let Irene nearly destroy the both of us. Don't make the same mistake we did then," Lexi finished and John took hold of his coat and pulled it wide, shaking the collar down before settling it back onto his shoulders. Mary let out an anguished sigh as he slowly started to walk towards her and then stopped several feet away.

**Lexi's POV**

**Christmas…about five months later…**

Over the radio a church choir was singing "Hark the Harold Angel Sing" and I hummed along with the music as I stood in the kitchen with a six almost seven month pregnant Joanna and Mummy Holmes, helping her cook Christmas dinner as Papa Holmes went outside of the red-walled cottage we were staying in to get more firewood. We were all staying in the cottage Alistair had given to me in Sussex Downs for Christmas at my insistence. Papa Holmes came back inside and I walked over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he disappeared off into the house. He was wearing grey trousers, a white checked shirt, a grey cardigan and a bright red bowtie. He was exactly what I thought Sherlock would be once we got older and decided to settle down and stop solving cases, though that would probably never happen. We loved working cases far too much and we got bored too easily. Unless we had something else to occupy our time with we probably would be solving cases well into our seventies or until our bodies gave out. I could see us moving out here to the cottage after that and keeping bees and just living a quiet life in the country. Sherlock would complain and say he hated it but I knew that he craved a bit of quietness these days and loved the moments when we could steal away some time for just the two of us. The noise of London was different after two almost three years of being back now.

Besides us women, Mycroft was the only other person in the kitchen, having braved staying with his mother to stick around Joanna. It was sweet seeing them together. Since finding out that she was pregnant Mycroft never left her side for a single second. He hovered over her and was always insisting upon helping her even with simple tasks. She let him, but every so often she would tell him off for being overprotective and remind him that she could still kill him with a paperclip if the whim arose. She had even flipped him over onto the couch a few times to remind him that she was still physically fit and could protect herself and lifting a few things was not going to hurt her or the baby. It was nice to see how fatherly Mycroft was being. He was scared, in fact he was absolutely terrified over becoming a father and Joanna was terrified over becoming a mother, but fear was good and I knew that they would be brilliant parents. Mummy had actually taken the news that Mycroft had gotten Joanna pregnant before they got married well. They had been worried about that when they had to tell her but she didn't even bat an eye as if she had sort of been expecting the news. Sherlock teased Mycroft to no end about it but I knew he was happy for his brother. He was also secretly pleased that he was going to become Uncle Sherlock.

"Oh, dear God, it's only two o'clock. It's been Christmas Day for at least a week now," Mycroft complained in a despairing tone and I giggled as Joanna waddled over to him. Her feet were a little sorer lately so Mycroft had been giving her foot massages but even he couldn't convince her to stay completely off of her feet. Mycroft was wearing a shirt and tie and a sleeveless waistcoat, as casual as the British Government ever got, and was sitting at the side of a large table in the middle of the kitchen rubbing one hand wearily over his brow. Joanna kissed his cheek and rubbed her hands over his back and shoulders, undoing any knots that he had worked into them. Christmas lights, wrapped around green foliage, were strung along the bottom of the window and another set of lights were wrapped over the curtain rail above a window on the opposite side of the kitchen. The latter lights progressed to where they draped over the top of a picture on the wall beside the window and then they dangled down haphazardly towards the floor. I had decorated the cottage with Mummy and Papa Holmes the night before with Joanie and Sherlock's help, though Mummy and Papa had done most of the work for the actual hanging process as they claimed that the three of us should still be resting. John had pitched in to help them, having been in a slightly better mood than he had been lately.

John had moved back into Baker Street with Sherlock and I after everything had come out about Mary. He didn't take the news exceedingly well and I never expected him too. My relationship with Mary was a bit strained too. Though she had shot us in a place where we could survive, she still shot Sherlock and I could have lost him and vice versa, Sherlock had almost lost me. I still had issues breathing on occasion but nearly five months later and I was almost back to normal. I could still run after criminals, but I would have to be more careful. It would mean working with Sherlock, not flinging myself in front of him and taking the brunt of the danger. The last few months had been brutal and Sherlock and I had only just been cleared for recovery. No more doctors for a while except for John who had been taking care of us. I knew he felt obligated to because his wife was the person who shot us. He took care of us around the clock for the most part while we were recovering. I knew it was his way of distracting himself from thinking about Mary. It wasn't healthy which was why I invited him and Mary who he hadn't really spoken to or seen in five months to come to my cottage for Christmas with Sherlock's parents and Joanna and Mycroft. There were enough people in the house so I knew they couldn't start a row and I didn't tell them that the other was coming until they arrived. I was determined to get them to talk and sort out their issues. Mary was eight almost nine months pregnant already and I would be damned if Baby Watson wouldn't grow up with two loving parents. I was devious and Sherlock had been very happy with my idea. Not so much about spending Christmas with his parents or his brother but it was also necessary for our second problem we had to take care of.

I bustled around the kitchen and Mummy patted my cheek affectionately as I put a plate of Christmas cookies down on a table next to some crockery, including a large plate with red paper serviettes and some cutlery on it, another plate with mince pies on it, a small iced and decorated Christmas cake, and various other items. The three of us had been baking since earlier that morning and besides Mycroft we had pushed all the men out of the kitchen. Mary wasn't feeling the best so she opted out of cooking. I was feeling a bit nauseous and sick myself lately but since Sherlock and I had been cutting back on all the pain medication recently I didn't think much of it. Withdrawals were never lovely. Joanna dropped some more Christmas crackers onto a pile of them lying in a wicker basket on the table and smiled at me from across the kitchen as I saluted her and she shook her head ruefully. Sherlock, wearing his usual dark suit and a very dark green shirt, was sitting in an armchair near the table. I made my way over to him, taking a small break and I giggled as he pulled me down on his lap and kissed me deeply. He had been sitting there most of the morning just so that he could watch me. I returned the kiss and threaded my fingers through his hair before Mycroft interrupted us with more of his complaining and we broke apart with a sigh, Sherlock playing with the ends of my hair instead.

"How can it only be two o'clock? I'm in agony," Mycroft asked in the same despairing tone as Sherlock brought the newspaper he had been looking at around the two of us, showing me the front page of The Guardian which bore the headline "Lord Smallwood suicide" and the straplines "Shamed peer takes own life" and "63-year-old dies following letters scandal". I sighed and shook my head and Sherlock kissed my forehead comfortingly.

"Grow a pair. Besides it's Christmas," Joanna told Mycroft as she leaned over his shoulder and he looked up at her, glaring slightly. "Christmas cheer, Father Christmas, Jingle Bells, try to smile for once honey," Joanna told him before she leaned down and kissed her husband and Mycroft grumbled a bit. I saw his cheeks flush though and he cleared his throat as Joanna straightened up and walked off. I caught her adding a bit more sway to her hips just to tease him.

She was at that stage in her pregnancy where she wanted to be all over him all the time, course he wanted to be all over her too, and with his parents here, he had to be a lot more in control. He also had to be in control for the both of them because Joanna really didn't care who saw her snogging her husband. She had been teasing him since they arrived the day before. She had done everything so far from wearing her jumpers a bit low since her breast had grown a size larger already, to crawling into his lap unexpectedly in front of his father. She was terrible and Sherlock loved it. Of course, I wasn't going to let him get away with teasing his brother without getting teased himself. I might have attacked him for some snogging myself. Now that we were finally out of the hospital and finally well enough, Sherlock and I had a lot of time to make up for and I certainly missed having time with my husband. Sex was something we had been told we weren't allowed to do. The doctors thought our hearts couldn't take it because apparently going into cardiac arrest more than once put a lot of stress onto the heart. Of course we might not have exactly listened to the doctors. I was after all a doctor myself. We were also still newlyweds.

"Mikey, is this your laptop?" Mummy Holmes asked Mycroft, pulling me out of my thoughts and I looked up at Sherlock who was smirking down at me as if he knew what I had been thinking about. He nipped slightly at my ear and I shivered before smacking him on the arm and he chuckled lowly into my ear and kissed the side of my head. Standing at the end of the table, Mummy pointed down to a silver-grey laptop on the table, half-obscured by a chopping board on top of it which had several whole peeled potatoes and the peelings on it.

"On which depends the security of the free world, yes ...," Mycroft told his mother and he smiled rather sarcastically up at her "...and you've got potatoes on it," Mycroft told her and Sherlock and I glanced over towards them as Joanna turned around from the stove and raised her eyebrow before picking up a tea towel and smirking over at me as she threw it over her shoulder. I had a feeling that she would be using that to some degree later. One thing she couldn't stand is when Mycroft sassed Mummy. We scolded our husbands for that. Joanna and I both didn't have parents and Mummy and Papa Holmes acted like our own parents and then some.

"Well, you shouldn't leave it lying around if it's so important," Mummy Holmes said and I giggled at how perfect she was. Papa Holmes once told me all the Holmes' women were strong and knew how to handle the Holmes' men and I could see how right he was. She reached to pick up the basket of crackers but put it down again when Mycroft spoke while gesturing around the kitchen.

"Why are we doing this? We never do this," Mycroft asked his mother before turning and shooting me a dirty look since it was my cottage that I had offered to his mother and it had technically been my idea. Mummy had wanted to get us all together though. I just used that to my advantage to string several plots together.

"We are here because Sherlock and Lexi are home from hospital and we are all very happy and because your wife is pregnant with our first grandchild," Mummy Holmes told Mycroft looking a little exasperated as she leaned on the table. Mycroft looked up at her with an extremely insincere smile as Joanna smiled back at Mummy happily and patted her baby bump.

"Am I happy too? I haven't checked," Mycroft asked his mother sarcastically and Joanna's eyebrow raised higher before she whipped the tea towel off of her shoulder and started to saunter over to Mycroft who didn't even notice her closing in on him.

"Behave, Mike," Mummy scolded as she picked up the basket of Christmas crackers.

"'Mycroft' is the name you gave me, if you could possibly struggle all the way to the end," Mycroft told his mother with an insincere smile before Joanna smacked him with the rolled up tea towel on the arm. "Oww!" Mycroft shouted before he looked over at his wife who smacked him again as Mummy smiled at the two of them.

"My, stop sassing your mother! God help me you are going to behave this Christmas," Joanna scolded him and for a petite and heavily pregnant woman, Mycroft quickly backed down from any retort or argument that he was about to make.

"I behaved last Christmas! I wore that ridiculous jumper for you," Mycroft told her and I giggled. Seeing one of their arguments was rare. Most of the time we didn't get to see this side of Mycroft as it happened behind closed doors.

"Yes you did, but you complained the entire night. Come on My. Have some fun, for me," Joanna told him, giving him a pouting look, and I knew she was pushing her lips out a little more as she batted her blue eyes at him. "And the baby. Daddy needs to look less grumpy," Joanna added, pulling that card as she placed Mycroft's hands on either side of her growing stomach and Mycroft sighed heavily as he rubbed his fingers in circles over it. I knew that she had him now. He could never say no to her, especially now and especially when she played the baby card.

"I apologize Mummy," Mycroft told his mother who nodded at him as she hid a fond smile. Joanna smiled brightly at Mycroft before she pulled him down and kissed him and I saw Mycroft blush as she snogged him. She would be the death of him but it was rather entertaining. Sherlock chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and I hummed in contentment as I snuggled against his chest, his hands coming to rest against my stomach as he hugged me to him. Billy Wiggins walked over and held out a glass of punch with pieces of fruit floating in it.

"Mrs Holmes?" Billy asked and Joanna, Mummy, and I all looked round to him.

"Which one?" We asked him in unison before we all laughed and he looked at us awkwardly as Joanna hugged Mycroft's neck from behind, the man still blushing furiously as he kept one arm around his wife's waist.

"Um… the first one?" Billy said more like a question and Mummy smiled before taking the glass from him.

"Thank you, dear," She told him as she looked him up and down. "Not absolutely sure why you're here," She added, drinking from the glass as she looked over at Sherlock and me as I kissed Sherlock's cheek.

"We invited him," Sherlock told her as he rubbed circles onto my hip and I closed my eyes and sighed, knowing I would have to get up in a few minutes. Sherlock had been nagging at me to take breaks though. With most of the women in the house pregnant I didn't mind giving Mummy a hand.

"I'm their protégé, Mrs 'olmes. When 'ey die, I get all their stuff, an' 'eir job," Billy told Mummy who looked at him, a little startled.

"No," Sherlock said precisely, still playing with my hair and I shook my head and gave Billy a pointed look. Billy was our protégé yes. We were teaching him since we would probably never have kids and teach them what we knew, but we never said he got our stuff or our job if we died. Sherlock and I had discussed adoption recently. Seeing Joanna pregnant and Mary had made us think of children a lot more. I was upset seeing Joanna married. Yes, I was extremely happy for her and Mycroft, but they were so sweet together and I couldn't have that with Sherlock.

"Oh. Well, I help out a bit," Billy protested and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Closer," Sherlock told him and Mycroft, Joanna, and Mummy looked up at him.

"If 'ey do get murdered or something ...," Billy said and Mycroft, Joanna, and Mummy all looked appalled and I brought my hand over my eyes as he brought up the one topic we were trying to stay away from this Christmas.

"Probably stop talking now," Sherlock told Billy as he took my hand away from my face and peppered my cheeks with light kisses.

"Okay," Billy said immediately.

"I assure you, we have no plans on getting murdered this Christmas or anytime soon. Besides little Cosette is going to need an Aunt and Uncle to spoil her to bits," I told Joanna and Mycroft before tilting my head back at looking at Sherlock. "And teach her how to solve murders," I added just loud enough so only he could hear me and he chuckled before kissing the tip of my nose. Joanna had finally had her way with picking out a name. Mycroft had not wanted to name their daughter after anything to do with that play from Hell as he called it but Joanna loved the name and he finally caved. They had finally settled on Cosette Adeline Sophia Holmes, merging both Joanna's French background and Mycroft's British one and keeping up with the Holmes tradition of all children having two first names.

"Lovely when you bring your friends round!" Mycroft said sarcastically all the same.

"Stop it, you," Mummy told him as she put her glass down and Joanna leaned round Mycroft and raised her eyebrow at him. Mycroft kissed her cheek, instantly melting her expression. "Somebody's put a bullet in my boy and my daughter ...," Mummy continued as she walked toward Sherlock and me with the basket of crackers but then she turned back to look at Mycroft again. "...and if I ever find out who, I shall turn absolutely monstrous," Mummy finished and I looked up at Sherlock and smirked slightly. She probably would become monstrous even if she did love Mary. Thankfully she suddenly got distracted by a mug on a nearby work surface.

"Ah. This was for Mary," Mummy said before she looked over at me. "You sit with your husband and take a breather sweetheart, I'll take it to her," Mummy told me as I went to get up having almost forgotten to take Mary her tea that I had made her. I was getting a bit forgetful lately but then I had been tired a lot. Sherlock pulled me back down on his lap and I nodded at her gratefully as I yawned and I chuckled lightly as I had my mouths behind my hand before I snuggled back up next to Sherlock and closed my eyes to rest for a few minutes. "I'll be back in a minute," Mummy told us before she walked away.

"Seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds," Sherlock whispered in my ear and I nodded as Joanna walked into the living room area.

"Lexi can I have a hand for a second?" She asked me and I looked over at her and frowned in confusion as Mycroft perked up. "I want to get some of the gifts wrapped that I forgot to," Joanna told me and I nodded before getting up as she offered me her hand and I took it.

"I could help you," Mycroft offered but she waved him off.

"Sister bonding time," She told him as she pulled me towards her room. "You're brothers, it's Christmas. Bond," She called back before leading me off into the hallway. I frowned as she suddenly started acting suspicious.

"Joanie?" I asked her and she made a stop talking gesture with her hand before pulling me into her and Mycroft's bedroom.

"No complaints. No arguments. No questions. You're doing it and I will not hear otherwise," Joanna told me as she went over to her bag and riffled through it coming back with a gift bag. "You get this gift slightly early," Joanna told me and I frowned at her before opening it, shocked at the gift I did find, just an unassuming little box that could mean a very big change.

**Mary's POV**

In the sitting room of the cottage, which also had random Christmas decorations around it, Mr. Holmes walked across to the open door of the wood-burning fireplace and put the two pieces of wood into the lit fire as Mrs Holmes came in.

"Ah, Mary," Mrs. Holmes said and Mary looked up to find her carrying a mug and she took it across to where Mary was sitting in an armchair facing the fire. She had a blanket over her stomach and legs and was flicking through the pages of a book she found on one of the shelves. Lexi said that Alistair always kept the library well stocked for the both of them and that she hadn't actually changed anything in the cottage since the last time he had been here. "There you are," Mrs. Holmes told her as she handed the mug to Mary, who smiled as she took it and drank from it. Peach tea, her absolute favourite, just like Lexi knew. "Cup of tea. Lexi made it for you. Now, if Father starts making little humming noises, just give him a little poke. That usually does it," Mrs. Holmes told her and Mary giggled and Mrs. Holmes chuckled. Mr. Holmes straightened up from the fire, dusting off his hands, and turned to face them while putting his hands in his pockets. He had a pair of glasses on a chain around his neck. It seems that he had taken up his wife's suggestion of wearing them on a chain "like Larry Grayson." Lexi had told her the entire story in detail about when they had come to visit her and Sherlock. He smiled at Mary as Mrs. Holmes turned to look at him. Mary held up the book to show the front cover. The book was called "The Dynamics of Combustion" and its author was V. L. Holmes.

"Did you write this?" Mary asked Mrs. Holmes curiously. Lexi was always good at maths in school, in fact she had gotten Mary through her Calculus classes, so it wasn't surprising to find a book like this on the shelves.

"Oh, that silly old thing. You mustn't read that. Mathematics must seem terribly fatuous now! I didn't know that Lexi had a copy. She mentioned reading it before," Mrs. Holmes told her before she turned to her husband, who was now gazing into space and humming quietly to himself. "Now, no humming, you!" She told him as she walked towards him and she patted his backside affectionately. Mary, took another drink of her tea, and Mrs. Holmes smiled fondly at her as she left the room and closed the door. Mary had to admit that Sherlock's parents were a lot like Sherlock and Lexi were together and a lot like Mycroft and Joanna were together. It was surprising. From what she knew, Joanna and Mycroft hated each other at first but now you would never be able to tell that. Mr. Holmes smiled at Mary as his wife left the room.

"Complete flake, my wife, but happens to be a genius," Mrs. Holmes told her as Mary lowered her tea mug.

"She was a mathematician?" Mary asked him curiously. It seemed all so odd. She used to think that Sherlock would have gotten to be the way he was because one of his parents was that way but they were both completely normal.

"Gave it all up for children," Mr. Holmes answered her fondly and Mary smiled, seeing how proud he was about his sons and she sipped from her mug again. "I could never bear to argue with her. I'm something of a moron myself. But she's ...," Mrs. Holmes continued as he glanced away briefly, then looked back to Mary and leaned closer to her, smiling "... unbelievably hot!"

"Oh my God. You're the sane one, aren't you?!" Mary asked him, giggling.

"Aren't you?!" Mrs. Holmes asked her, raising his eyebrow and Mary lowered her eyes, trying to keep her smile steady, and then drank again. "Lexi once told me she wasn't the sane one," Mr. Holmes said and he chuckled, shaking his head. "I can see it now," He added and Mary nodded.

"She's always been a bit…," Mary said, making a face and laughing before sobering again. She only knew what Lexi was like because of years of lying to her. The door to the sitting room opened suddenly and John came in, glancing briefly at Mary and then looking across to Mr Holmes, who turned to look back at him.

"Oh," John said and Mary shifted nervously in her seat which was hard to do when you were eight almost nine months pregnant and she looked down at her book and flipped it open to a random page. "Sorry. I-I just, er ..." John stammered and Mary kept her head down, flicking through the book's pages. John glanced towards her again but she refused to meet his eyes.

"Oh. Er-er, do you two need a moment?" Mr. Holmes asked him as he started to walk towards the door, looking at John.

"If you don't mind," John told him and Mr. Holmes stopped and looked towards Mary, who raised her head briefly and shook it slightly before looking down again.

"No, of course not. I'll-I'll go and see if I can help with ... something or another," Mr. Holmes said as he continued towards the door.

"Oh um…I just saw Lexi out in the hall. She was asking about where you got off to actually," John told him and Mr. Holmes smiled brightly at that before he went out and closed the door behind him. John watched him go, then ran his hand under his nose and turned towards Mary. She looked down at her book for a few more moments, then raised her head and briefly watched as he slowly walked across the room to stand in front of the fire, facing her. Again she glanced briefly towards him before turning her attention back to the book on her lap.

**Third Person POV**

Outside the closed door, Sherlock walked over and took his coat from the pegs on the wall nearby. Standing at the door, his father looked at him and pointed back towards the sitting room.

"Those two. They all right?" Papa Holmes asked his son as Sherlock put his coat on.

"Well, you know – they've had their ups and downs," Sherlock answered his father as he glanced towards the door, then went through another nearby door which led outside. Mr. Holmes sighed before he continued down the hall to find his daughter who was looking for him. He always had time when it came to Lexi. From the first time Sherlock brought her home to meet them he had thought of her as a daughter.

**Flashback**

**Mary's POV**

Mary and John were still standing facing each other several feet apart in the house in Leinster Gardens and they still hadn't spoken a single word to one another after Lexi's speech. Mary knew that Lexi was right. They did have to talk, no matter how terrified she was. She didn't have a choice though. John knew now and he had already seen what she could do. But Lexi had done her a kindness. Lexi made a comparison. For whatever reason Lexi was trying to show John something. That she was just as skilled maybe? Mary knew she was trying to make some point. Lexi was always trying to make some point about something and she always had a reason behind what she did. Sherlock turned away behind Mary then, supporting Lexi who looked very pale and sickly and was breathing more labouredly.

"Baker Street. Now," Sherlock told them both quietly.

"And that is not a question, it is an order," Lexi told Mary before she looked over her head at the army doctor and gave him a firm look before she and Sherlock walked away, supporting each other as they walked.

Mary continued to stare at her husband, her face anguished. After a moment John walked forward, his eyes fixed on her and his teeth slightly bared. He kept going and walked past her and Mary drew in a sharp breath, fighting off tears knowing she had lost John already. He looked at her with such hatred, such loathing. How could he ever forgive her? She put her hand to her mouth before she realized that for whatever reason Sherlock and Lexi were doing this, they had to be in a lot of pain. They had both broken out of a hospital a week after getting shot, y her too and she knew that where she shot them it would have hurt…a lot. They had to have a really good reason for doing this. Lexi always had a reason…. If Lexi was banking on her to not kill them, Mary was banking on Lexi having a reason behind this, behind her possibly losing John, the best thing that had ever happened ever, forever.

**Lexi's POV**

John opened the door of the living room at 221B and walked in, sighing quietly. Mary followed him more slowly up the stairs, with Sherlock and me behind her. We leaned on each other, biting our lips to hold back the groans and cries of pain so as not to alert John that we were worse off than we looked. This was about John right now, not us and once we were assured that John was safe we could finally rest. I slipped slightly on the stairs as my knees wobbled under me and Sherlock caught me, groaning slightly as he pulled me back up and we paused, the both of us panting on the stairs. He leaned forward and kissed the side of my head and just held me for a moment as we rested before we tackled the last few steps together. John took off his jacket and dropped it onto the dining table. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen but she hurried towards him worriedly.

"John," She said just as Mary walked through the door. Sherlock and I slowly followed just behind her, our heads down as we braced ourselves against the bannister and the wall, dragging ourselves upwards. I really hated these stairs. "Mary!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed next and Mary gave her a small smile and walked towards the fireplace while John stood by the dining table with his hands on his hips. I knew how this was going to go and I knew there was about to be a lot of shouting. The tension had already settled over the flat and I knew this was going to be the largest argument we had ever had before because I was choosing sides and so was Sherlock and of course, the both of us agreed with each other. Sherlock and I finally managed to hobble to the doorway and we stopped there, bracing ourselves with one hand on the edge of the open door as my knees threatened to collapse under me again. My head felt a bit lightheaded and I knew that I needed to sit and breathe as I wasn't getting enough oxygen. A few black dots clouded my vision and I almost fell but Sherlock instantly caught me, making it look like he just tightened his arm around my waist. Those last few steps are what did me in. "Oh, Sherlock, Lexi! Oh, good gracious, you two look terrible,' Mrs. Hudson said in shock and I chuckled breathlessly before grimacing in pain.

"Get us some morphine from your kitchen. We've run out," Sherlock demanded and I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. It was a white hot pain that started where the bullet entered my chest and then it radiated through my entire chest to the point where I felt like I couldn't breathe any more. I felt Sherlock checking my pulse which I knew was racing already as my adrenaline kicked in in an attempt to keep my heart working.

"I don't have any morphine!" Mrs. Hudson told us and I groaned as I opened my eyes blearily, blinking a few times as I shut down the pain and thought about the ways I controlled it while we were in Serbia. Serbia had been the worst of it.

"Then what exactly is the point of you?" Sherlock asked Mrs. Hudson angrily and she pressed her lips together for a moment before I smacked him, finding enough strength for that. John, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson looked round at the two of us in shock as I grabbed each of Sherlock's cheeks and pressed my forehead against his own.

"Calm down," I told him and he breathed in and out deeply a few times before nodding. "Breathe, just breathe through it like we did in Serbia. Match my breathing," I told him, taking a few deep breaths and he breathed in and out with me as John and Mary watched us, John looking slightly shocked by my admission. I never went into what happened when we were gone, but occasionally some bits of information slipped out. Mrs. Hudson looked round at all of us as I slid my hands down Sherlock's arms and squeezed his hands before he wrapped his arm around my waist again and I wrapped mine around his.

"What is going on?" Mrs. Hudson asked us in confusion and John threw a look over at us.

"Bloody good question," John said and I narrowed my eyes at him. While I loved John to death he always had attitude and in moments like this we butted heads. During the Great Game with Moriarty I had argued with him and put him in his place when he started going off on Sherlock and I but I had never once actually properly shouted at him. Not even when I yelled at him about thinking we had done drugs. I didn't want it to have to go that far but this time it might.

"The Watsons are about to have a domestic, and fairly quickly, I hope, because we've got work to do," Sherlock told Mrs. Hudson as he looked over at John. Actually it wasn't so much work as we both needed a hospital and soon. I checked Sherlock's pulse which was erratic and I knew that we had another eight or nine minutes at most. Fairly quickly then or this would have to go on a slight pause.

"Oh, I have a better question," John told us as he paced towards Mary, looking angrily into her face. "Is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?" John asked us and Mary flinched as Sherlock's eyes lifted upwards as he thought about it. I frowned and I shook my head.

"Yes," Sherlock said after a moment and Mary gave a tiny nod of agreement, pursing her lips.

"No actually," I said and all eyes turned to me. John was glaring at me as he raised an eyebrow but I calmly looked back at our army doctor. "Sherlock and I are highly functioning sociopaths and so far out of everyone you've met the only one that can be considered a psychopath is Moriarty. Don't compare us to him," I told John dangerously as I narrowed my eyes and Sherlock bent down and kissed the top of my head comfortingly.

"Good that we've settled that. Anyway, we ...," Sherlock said before John cut him off.

"SHUT UP!" John shouted at us, turning towards us furiously and Mrs. Hudson jumped at the loudness of his cry and put one hand to her mouth.

"Oh!" Mrs. Hudson said and if I could have even moved without the need of Sherlock holding me up I would have gone over to comfort her.

"JOHN!" I shouted back at the army doctor and Mary, Mrs. Hudson, and Sherlock all looked mildly surprised as I had never raised my voice to him before. John breathed heavily as he glared at the both of us.

"Both of you shut up and stay shut up…," John told us in a more normal tone of voice before I cut him off furiously.

"John Hamish Watson!" I shouted at him getting his attention and his anger disappeared for a moment, being replaced by shock as I used if full name. "Don't you even dare," I told him in a low and dangerous tone and his expression turned angry again. "When have Sherlock and I ever done anything but put your best interest at heart or maybe you are forgetting about Bart's?" I asked John, not wanting to bring up that as it was a bit below the belt but I had to get him to see and I was not against using it because I was right. John filched as I narrowed my eyes at him and Sherlock rubbed circles on my hip to try and calm me down. I took a few deep breaths but clutched at my side when I found that this was too painful to do. I actually couldn't breathe deeply, in fact I could only take short panting breaths which meant I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen soon.

"This is not funny," John told us as he gave us an angry humourless smile. "Not this time," He told me and I shook my head at him despairingly.

"We didn't say it was funny," Sherlock told John for me and John turned his head to look at Mary who had been keeping quiet throughout all of this and hovering over by the fireplace nervously.

"You," John said and he turned to face her. When he spoke, his voice and his face were full of barely-controlled anger and he frequently breathed heavily throughout his next words. "What have I ever done ... hmm? ... my whole life ... to deserve you?" He asked her as Sherlock groaned slightly as we adjusted so that he was leaning against the right-hand post of the door and I was leaning against his chest.

"Everything," Sherlock answered him instead of Mary.

"Sherlock, I've told you ...," John said in the same tone as he turned to face us and he walked over to where I was standing in front of Sherlock, still pressed up against his chest with Sherlock's arms around me. "...shut up," John finished while I narrowed my eyes at John more as Sherlock tightened his hold around me. He knew I was in no physical condition to attack John but he knew that I got protective of him and right now, no matter how much John was a friend and brother to us; he was going after Sherlock and that would never ever be oaky for me.

"And I told you don't you dare…," I told John dangerously and he snapped his gaze to me and we glared at each other for a long moment.

"Oh, I mean it, seriously. Everything – everything you've ever done is what you did," Sherlock told John quietly who looked back up at him in an instant.

"Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine," John threatened Sherlock very softly and dangerously and I moved ever so slightly in Sherlock's arms, enough to get loose and smack John in the face. Mrs. Hudson and Mary gasped as the crack resounded in the flat and John looked at me in shock before looking angrier than before. I stopped him before this continued further. This was turning into utter madness.

"Really John? You are going to threaten him, after everything we've been through together the three of us? Fine, do it, but you are not the man that I thought you were then. I have never hurt you but I will if I have to. You've seen what I can do to assassins, so don't you dare threaten my husband!" I shouted at John and Sherlock pulled me back to his chest as I breathed heavily, my hair going wild about my face and Sherlock pressed a few kisses to the side of my head, trying to calm me down as John stood there looking very shocked by my outburst. Good…it might have knocked some sense into him if my smack didn't.

"You were a doctor who went to war," Sherlock told John quietly as I continued to fumed, starting to calm down though as Sherlock rubbed my arms up and down. John's eyes were fixed on us and he was breathing rapidly and deeply.

"You joined the army just to become a doctor because you wanted it so badly," I added and John's expression softened a little bit as I spoke. "Because you are a good man John and you are also loyal and brave," I told him honestly. I was beyond mad at him right now. I couldn't not be angry with him, but he would always be our army doctor no matter how many arguments we got into. If death couldn't break us, this wouldn't either.

"You're a man who couldn't stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den and beating up a junkie. Your best friends are sociopaths who solve crimes as an alternative to getting high," Sherlock told John, a bit louder before he paused for a moment. "That's us, by the way," Sherlock told him as we raised out left hands and waved at him. "Hello," Sherlock told him while I smiled shakily.

"I'm still your best friend by the way even though I am so completely pissed at you right now it isn't even funny but I think the feeling is mutual so that's okay," I told John and he nodded at me firmly in confirmation before Sherlock pointed towards Mrs. Hudson.

"Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel," Sherlock said and I giggled slightly at that as I felt a bit dizzy. Oh hello, back to that are we.

"It was my husband's cartel. I was just typing," Mrs. Hudson told us defensively and I looked over at her and raised my eyebrow sceptically.

"And exotic dancing," Sherlock told her pointed as he looked over at her.

"Sherlock Holmes, if you've been YouTube-ing ..." Mrs. Hudson said before I waved her off quickly, shaking my head which was a bad option as it made me more dizzy and Sherlock had told hold me up as black dots danced in front of my vision.

"No! No. No. No. Really, we did not need to see that. We've already shared far too much with each other in this flat already," I told Mrs. Hudson and she, Sherlock and I shared a look before grimacing and then shuddering lightly. I would never be able to get that thought out of my head for the rest of my life.

"John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle," Sherlock said, talking louder as he got back on track which was good because I reckoned we had about six minutes left before Sherlock and I collapsed. "You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people ...," Sherlock said before his voice became quieter again "...so is it truly such a surprise that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?" Sherlock asked him and John grimaced briefly and then, with his eyes still fixed on Sherlock and me, he pointed towards his wife at the other side of the room.

"But she wasn't supposed to be like that," John told us, his voice full of suppressed tears. Mrs. Hudson looked across to Mary in shock and Mary lowered her head.

"John you never were going to fall in love with someone normal. Didn't you wonder why all your other dates ended in disaster? Why Sherlock and I always came and pulled you away from them? We've only ever liked Mary because she has been the only person that has truly made you happy," I explained to John and he pointed again across the room, his voice a little stronger this time.

"But why is she like that?" John asked us and I closed my eyes as Sherlock looked away towards the sofa wall for several seconds and then I opened my eyes as he turned back and we both looked directly into John's eyes and answered him.

"Because you chose her," We told John in unison and John stared back at us, his face unreadable.

"Like Sherlock chose me John," I told him and John's eyes flickered with some emotion for a second. "He's addicted to a certain lifestyle too, as am I. He is attracted to dangerous situations and people and we all know my tract record for both. We both need to be intellectually stimulated by conversations and people which we don't often find except for in each other. We conduct experiments others might find macabre…we chose each other because out of everyone, we're the only two suited for each other," I explained to John as I looked up at Sherlock and he kissed me lightly before we looked back at John. We held his gaze for a long moment and finally John turned away, speaking conversationally.

"Why is everything ...," John said as he walked towards the dining table, holding up a questioning hand and shrugging. "...always...,"He continued before his voice rose to a loud shout. "...MY FAULT?!"John shouted at us as he furiously kicked the small table beside Sherlock and my chair across the floor. Mrs. Hudson jumped and flailed and even Sherlock jumped behind me a little at John's violent display, but Mary and I remained still. Sherlock wrapped his arms around me a little bit tighter upon natural instinct.

"Oh, the neighbours!" Mrs. Hudson cried before she hurried away and John turned to face Mary again, breathing heavily.

"JOHN!" I shouted and the army doctor turned to look at me and I looked at him with a soft expression. "We're not saying it's your fault John," I told him and he scoffed at me. "We're saying you chose her. Why, because there was something about her that you love. So much so that you wanted to marry her after not having known her for long. And I know you love her because I saw the way you were looking at her that night in the restaurant. You chose her John. That doesn't make it your fault, it makes it your choice," I told him calmly and then Sherlock took over for me as I started to get breathless from talking so much.

"John, listen. Be calm and answer us," Sherlock told him quietly. "What is she?" Sherlock asked him, slowly and precisely.

"My lying wife?" John asked us his gaze fixed on Mary, though he blinked repeatedly as Mary flinched.

"No. What is she?" I asked John firmly as I gestured over to Mary. "Don't see, observe," I told him as I looked over at Mary and sighed heavily as we locked eyes for a second before she looked away from me.

"And the woman who's carrying my child who has lied to me since the day I met her?" John asked us as he continued to look at May who gazed back at him.

"No," Sherlock told him and I pinched the bridge of my nose tiredly. "Not in this flat; not in this room. Right here, right now, what is she?" Sherlock asked her and John had a small fixed humourless smile on his face as his eyes remained locked on his wife. His head was low on his neck and he looked murderous. After a long moment he sniffed deeply and harshly as he caught on to what we meant.

"Okay," John said and he turned briefly towards Sherlock and me and then back to Mary. "Your way," John told us over his shoulder. He looked at Mary for another second, then half-turned to Sherlock and me. "Always your way," John told us and I raised my eyebrow at him dangerously.

"It's not always our way John, but in this case you're right it's going to be," I told him dangerously and he smiled at me humourlessly as Sherlock lowered his head and looked away. John turned, clearing his throat, then picked up one of the dining chairs and put it down facing the two armchairs and the fireplace before he looked over at Mary.

"Sit," John commanded Mary shortly.

"Why?" Mary asked him quietly, her voice slightly nervous.

"Because that's where they sit," John told her in a tight, angry whisper, leaning towards her while pointing down to the dining chair. He straightened up, still speaking in the same tight voice but a little louder. "...the people who come in here with their stories. Th-the clients…that's where they sit since Lexi made it the client chair – that's all you are now, Mary. You're a client. This is where you sit and talk ...," John told her as he gestured towards the armchair "...and this is where we sit and listen, then we decide if we want you or not," John told her, sniffing deeply before he walked over to his chair and sat down, clearing his throat and adjusting the cushion behind his back. After a moment, Sherlock and I walked forward and crossed the room. We paused briefly in front of Mary to meet her eyes and gave her a tiny nod of encouragement, before we turned and Sherlock sat down in his chair before he pulled me down onto his lap and gave me his customary kiss on the side of the head. I smiled back at him before sighing and drawing a serious expression as I turned to look at the woman who was my best friend and brother's wife, my best friend, and a woman who was like a sister to me. Mary watched us as we sat, then looked across to John, who had slumped back into his chair and was not meeting her eyes, then she slowly walked in between us and turned round to sit down on the dining chair, putting her shoulder bag onto the floor beside her. She adjusted her coat around her, dusted off the tops of her legs, tugged the lower part of her trousers down a little on both legs, then turned her head to John as he looked back at her. Sherlock and I nodded at her once and then she began.

**Mary's POV**

**Present day…the cottage…Christmas (A/N Tense moment about to happen which is exactly like the episode but told through Mary's eyes? Yup! This isn't just about Lexi sweeties. I understand all the characters.) **

In the sitting room of Lexi's cottage, now officially the Holmes' cottage, Mary looked up from her book when John spoke.

"So, are you okay?" John asked her and Mary raised her eyebrow at him slightly and pulled a surprised face.

"Oh! Are we doing conversation today? It really is Christmas!" Mary asked him sarcastically. For nearly five months he hadn't wanted to talk with her and had only gotten information about how the baby was doing sent to him through the mail or through Lexi but now, now he wanted to talk to her? John reached into the pocket of his trousers and took something out. He showed her what he was holding. It was a large silver-coloured pen drive with a circular link at one end for attaching it to a key ring. Written in black felt-tip pen on one side were the initials "A.G.R.A". The writing was somewhat faded. Mary closed the book and let out a brief exasperated sound. "Now?" She asked him and John nodded at her and tilted the drive round to look at the letters on it. She had given that to him months ago and he was still carrying it with him. "Seriously? Months of silence and we're gonna do this ...," She asked him as she nodded towards the drive "... now?" She finished and John lowered the drive to his side, slowly rolling it round in his fingers. She understood that Lexi had invited them both here to try and get them to talk, but Christmas didn't seem like the time to be talking about this. They already tried talking once and John made it quite clear how he felt about everything.

**Lexi's POV**

**Flashback**

Sitting on the dining chair in front of us, Mary put took a pen drive out of her jacket pocket and placed it on the table at the side of John's chair before she withdrew her hand. It was a large silver-coloured pen drive with a circular link at one end for attaching it to a key ring. Written in black felt-tip pen on one side were the initials "A.G.R.A". The writing was somewhat faded with time and my eyes widened slightly when I saw it because it was similar to another pen drive I had seen before. That one belonged to Joanna and she had shown it to me once. Hers had the initials "H.N.E.D" on it though. This confirmed my suspicions about Mary. For her to be in possession of a pen drive like that meant that she was an intelligence agent similar to Joanna, though Joanna did a lot different work. Joanna worked more on the good side, but she claimed there were those that would have tried to sway her not to. Sherlock grimaced in pain as he looked intensely at the pen drive, studying the letters written on the side of it. I looked up at Mary and raised my eyebrow and she looked away from me quickly, only not meeting my eyes. That answered my second theory.

"'A.G.R.A.' What's that?" Sherlock asked Mary and Mary looked from him to John and cleared her throat.

"Er ... my initials," Mary answered him and I nodded as John grimaced and looked away. Sherlock looked down, then glanced towards him while Mary sighed and looked over at me for a split second, then she flicked her gaze over at the pen drive. "Everything about who I was is on there," Mary told us before she looked at John. "If you love me, don't read it in front of me," Mary told John who lifted his hand nearest to the table in a shrug.

"Why?" John asked her, his voice a lot calmer than before we had started this. He was still angry, but he was also acting unattached right now, treating her like she was just a client and like none of this mattered.

"Because you won't love me when you've finished ...," Mary told him, holding back tears and John held her gaze. "...and I don't want to see that happen," Mary choked out before she looked down and I reached out and put a hand over hers. John threw me a hard look which I ignored as Mary jumped in shock that I was even touching her. I grunted in pain but breathed in slowly to control it.

"Mary, Joanna has a similar pen drive she gave to Mycroft before they got married. Actually she gave it to him very early on in their relationship and she left the choice up to him. He knows everything and he never left her or judged her for it. Don't assume that it's all so terrible. Joanna's done some things that she's not proud of either…," I told Mary lightly and she looked up at me with tears in her eyes. With a loud sigh John snatched the drive from the table, looked briefly across to Sherlock and me as I sat back in Sherlock's arms with another grunt of pain, and then he shoved the drive into his left trouser pocket. Sniffing, he pulled himself into a higher sitting position on his chair. Mary looked across at Sherlock and I as Sherlock played with my hair to calm himself down.

"How much d'you two know already?" Mary asked us and I hummed slightly and in took a breath. That was a good question. We knew an awful lot actually. Some of it I had pieced together from living with her, some we had deduced about her, some we had found out from what Joanna had discovered due to her own suspicions. We had a lot to be going on.

"By your skill set, you are – or were – an intelligence agent. Your accent is currently English but I suspect you are not. You're on the run from something; you've used your skills to disappear; ...," Sherlock deduced and John shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Of course after living us for so long he should have been used to this by now. "...Magnussen knows your secret, which is why you were going to kill him; and I assume you befriended Janine ...," Sherlock said before looking down and me and I shifted a bit on his lap and scratched my nose lightly as I looked around the flat and he chuckled slightly before continuing. "...in order to get close to him."

"Oh – you two can talk!" Mary told us and we both smiled at her before she sobered. "And what about you Lexi?" Mary asked me and I hummed questioningly at her. "What do you know?" She asked me and I sighed heavily. She knew that I would have noticed more that Sherlock. I had lived with her for about six years before. Now that I knew what I did I could look back and pick up on some things I missed the first time round.

"You were an intelligence agent like Joanna is now, only you were a little more on the black side than she was. Joanna navigates in the grey area, mostly helping governments, running them, but you did a lot different work. You quit after Moriarty hired you," I said and John looked up sharply at this. "Yes, John, don't look so surprised. She was one of the snipers at the pool that night. In fact we have her to thank. If Moriarty ordered to have me shot she would have been the reason I'm still alive today. But it was seeing me again that got her to get out of it," I said with a smile and Mary nodded slightly as John looked over at her in surprise. You're American originally. Somewhere in the north. You slipped a few times when we were back and Uni and used an American term for something but I brushed it off. You're accent has also gotten more pronounced but you've been using it for the last eighteen years now so it should have. You're on the run because of what is on that pen drive and Magnussen found out what was on it, the same way he found out the stuff that is on Joanna's. That's why you were going to kill Magnussen. To protect your secret but also to insure that John never found out about it," I finished and Mary nodded at me in confirmation that I was right.

"The stuff Magnussen has on me, I would go to prison for the rest of my life," Mary told us and I nodded at that. She would got to prison for the rest of her life…if Magnussen released the information. He wouldn't though. He would just hang it over her head and use it as blackmail. For what purpose, you never could tell? There wasn't much he could gain from Lady Smallwood over the letters. He was like Moriarty. He got bored and he liked to have a bit of fun. The stuff Magnussen had on Joanna…he could run wild with that.

"So you were just gonna kill him," John stated and I looked over at our army doctor. Here I was in the grey area where I couldn't have an opinion. Sherlock and I had murdered people in Moriarty's web to demolish it. We also killed people to rescue Irene. My record wasn't exactly clean either.

"People like Magnussen should be killed. That's why there are people like me," Mary told John calmly as she looked up at him and John lifted his left hand and gently punched the arm of his chair

"Perfect! So that's what you were? An assassin?" John asked Mary in exasperation before he looked over at Sherlock and me. "How could I not see that?" John asked us as he turned back to Mary.

"You did see that," Mary told John who's humourless and slightly murderous smile was back on his face and she paused for a moment before continuing as soon as she saw its return. "...and you married me," Mary told him, pausing again before she tilted her head in our direction. "Because they're right," Mary said and Sherlock looked down a little, unusually not looking pleased about being correct. "It's what you like," Mary told John softly and he looked back at her stony-faced. She held his gaze for a moment, then lowered her eyes.

"You might not have seen it about Joanna though…," I told John and he turned and looked at me in surprise. "She's an assassin too technically. Currently her record stands at one. She likes to negotiate rather than kill. She got tired of arguing with this one guy though," I told John as I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly as he fixed me with a humourless look.

"And well…," Mary said as she flicked her gaze over to me. "You didn't notice Lexi either," Mary told John and I raised my eyebrow at her, tiling my head in surprise as John frowned in confusion. "I noticed it too, when I got back. You were different. The stuff you do, you've been trained," Mary said and I nodded, coughing lightly.

"By Joanna yeah," I told her and she nodded at me before we looked awkwardly away from each other.

"So are all the women I know assassins?!" John shouted and Mary and I turned too looked at him and I shook my head before frowning and tilting my head to the side as I thought about it. I hummed and looked back at Sherlock who had his brow furrowed as he considered the possibility as well.

"Well Molly isn't to the best of my knowledge. She does have a mean backhand though. I don't know any of the other women you know so I couldn't say …," I told John, shaking my head slightly before looking back at Sherlock. We were getting a bit off topic again.

"So ... Mary ...," Sherlock started and she looked over at us as he grimaced again. I panted a bit as I felt a wave of dizziness again and I groaned under my breath. Sherlock kissed the side of my head and I sighed and just kept breathing. "...any documents that Magnussen has concerning yourself, you want ...,"Sherlock said before he grimaced again, his voice tight with pain and I squeezed his hand tightly. He took a deep breath before continuing. "...extracted and returned."

"Why would you two help me?" Mary asked me and I tilted my head to the side as I watched her.

"Despite everything you are like a sister to me Mary. You befriend me in Uni. You were meant to recruit me," I said and Sherlock looked down at me in surprise at that statement as John's eyes widened in shock as well. Mary nodded slightly and looked down, away from me. "I would have been too good for it at the time. I was angry back then, but I'm not now. I would have become an entirely different person and you saw that. You got me out of it," I told Mary and she nodded at me.

"And because ... you saved our lives," Sherlock added and John coughed as he looked away from Mary and over at us in surprise.

"Sor-sorry, what?" John stammered.

"When we happened on you and Magnussen ...," Sherlock started before he took a couple of noisy, strained breaths, bracing his hands on the arms of his chair. I leaned back and kissed his cheek and he smiled at me thankful for the gesture. "…you had a problem," Sherlock told Mary as I thought back to the living room of Magnussen's flat.

"More specifically, you had witnesses," I told Mary and she hummed slightly and as I inclined my head in her direction, clutching my side slightly, under my breast. Two more minutes. Already I could feel my pulse weakening and a quick check of Sherlock's told me his was slowing down as well.

**Flashback (Inception)**

Sherlock and I looked carefully through the gap in the door to Magnusson's penthouse living room and saw Magnussen kneeling on the floor with his head lowered and his hands raised while the black-clad assassin pointed a pistol at him.

"What do you do now?" Magnussen had asked Mary later on as she stood facing us, pointing her pistol at us while, behind her, Magnussen was reaching to his left where his phone was lying on the floor. "Kill the three of us?" Magnussen asked he and Mary pulled the trigger once and then again and in slow-motion the bullets flew out of the end of the gun.

"The solution, of course, was simple. Kill the three of us and leave," Sherlock said as I was pulled slightly out of my mind and into the present. In this version of events, Mary wasn't aiming at our chests and the bullets went straight into the centre of our foreheads. Our eyes closed and our mouths flew open and we started to fall backwards. Before we even reached the floor, Mary rapidly turned towards Magnussen, who was still straightening up at the sound of the shot. She shot him in the head. And the three of us all fell to the floor. "However, sentiment got the better of you," Sherlock told Mary and I hummed in agreement as the scene reset itself in my head. "One precisely-calculated shot to incapacitate us ...," Sherlock told Mary and in my head Mary fired at us, this time in the chest, and Sherlock and I started to fall backwards. "...in the hope that it would bide you more time to negotiate our silence," Sherlock told Mary and before Sherlock and I hit the floor, Mary was already turning towards Magnussen. "Of course, you couldn't shoot Magnussen," Sherlock said as I was pulled out of my Mind Palace and we looked over at John. "On the night that both of us broke into the building, your own husband would become a suspect, so ...," Sherlock said and in the past, Mary viciously lashed the end of her pistol across Magnusson's face. His glasses flew off his face and in ultra-slow motion he started to fall. "...you calculated ... that Magnussen ... would use the fact of your involvement rather than sharing the information with the police ... as is his M.O," Sherlock explained to Mary and John now taking a painful breath every few words.

"And he didn't…Joanna…also…covered it up…used his own interest in her…to take care of things… for us," I panted out painfully, grabbing my side as the pain rose in my chest. In the past, Mary walked in slow motion towards the open door of Magnussen's flat.

"...and then you left the way you came," Sherlock told Mary whose gaze was lowered but now she raised it to the both of us.

"It wasn't just sentiment that kept you from killing us though," I told Mary before I looked over at John and nodded at him. "It was John. You couldn't do that to him. You saw what happened to him when he thought we had died. You couldn't be the one to actually kill us this time," I told Mary and she nodded at me slightly as John looked towards us with a grim expression on his face before he turned his eyes towards his wife.

"Have we missed anything?" Sherlock asked Mary and John as I raised my eyebrow questioningly.

"How did she save your life?" John asked us in confusion.

"She phoned the ambulance" Sherlock told him simply and I nodded in agreement.

"I phoned the ambulance," John argued and I nodded and hummed.

"Yes, you did John, one of them" I told him before I looked over at Mary and gestured to her.

"She phoned first," Sherlock said and both of us thought back to the past. Mary viciously lashed the end of her pistol across Magnusson's face and then immediately bent to pick up his phone from the floor. Even as she straightened up she typed in the three digits, not even looking at it. The number came up on the screen in red:

999 EMERGENCY

"Emergency. Which service do you require?" The operator asked as Mary made her way to the door.

Back in the flat, approaching sirens can be heard and they were growing closer with every second. I sighed in relief as black spots danced in front of my vision and I started to get tired. The sirens stopped just outside on the street and I forced my eyes open. Breath, just breath.

"You didn't find us for another five minutes. Left to you, we would have died. The average arrival time for a London ambulance is ...," Sherlock said as he lifted his left hand and looked at his watch as the clatter of feet could be heard on the stairs. Suddenly four paramedics ran into the room and I was never happier to see the jolly men who always seemed to think I needed a shock blanket when we met.

"Did somebody call an ambulance?" The paramedics asked as John stood up, looking at them in confusion.

"...eight minutes," Sherlock finished, breathing heavily and with his left hand still raised in front of him, he looked towards the paramedics as I waved my fingers at them lightly.

"That would be us, hello," I told them weakly as I groaned and Sherlock kissed the side of my head/

"Did you bring any morphine? I asked on the phone. Lexi could also use some oxygen. She's been fighting to remain conscious for the last 60 seconds and she's going to pass out in the next minute from oxygen deprivation," Sherlock asked the paramedic as dark spots danced in front of my vision. He was right, I was going to pass out in another minute. Good, he noticed.

"We were told there was a double shooting," One of the paramedics said, looking at us a little puzzled.

"There was, last week ...," Sherlock told him, now holding his left wrist with his right hand, his fingers on his pulse point. He took a sharp breath before he grabbed my wrist and checked my pulse which was slowing down significantly. "...but I believe we're bleeding internally and my pulse is very erratic and Lexi's is slowing down dangerously," Sherlock said before he put his hand on the arms of the chair and started pushing upwards as I aided him. He scooped me up in his arms as I stumbled forward, my heart nearly giving out as I also lost oxygen. "You may need to re-start our hearts on the way," Sherlock told the paramedics and his voice jolted on the word 'heart' and his knees buckled from under him as he fell forward, falling with me still held in his arms as I could no longer support myself. John and Mary hurried forward and each of them took hold of an upper arm to support him. The paramedics ran towards us as I stared up at Sherlock. "Lexi, don't you dare," Sherlock told me weakly as my eyelids fluttered and I chuckled at him even if it hurt to.

"Never," I promised him, even though that promise was getting hard to keep and I forced my eyelids open so that I could stare back into his eyes, blue grey meeting hazel.

"Come on, Sherlock, Lexi. Come on, Lexi, Sherlock," John said as Sherlock and I groaned and I was helped down to my feet by Mary as Sherlock couldn't support all my weight as well even if I was light. Sherlock grasped John's arm with his free hand that was not around my waist and Mary stepped back out of the way of the paramedics.

"John?" Sherlock asked our army doctor as the paramedics put their bags down on the floor near us him and take hold of us, supporting our weight. Sherlock and I ignored them and stared intensely at John. "John – Magnussen is all that matters now. You can trust Mary. She saved our lives," Sherlock told John, knowing that he had to hear it for him. As much as I could assured John, Sherlock and John had a brotherly bond. It was the three of us against the world. I had told John he could trust Mary, now it was Sherlock's turn to assure him of that fact.

"She shot you two," John told us quietly and Sherlock pulled a face as I scrunched up my nose and Sherlock half-nodded his agreement as I hummed.

"Er, mixed messages, I grant you," Sherlock told him and I chuckled breathlessly.

"Could have been worse," I told him, before I reach out and touched John's arm and squeezed it slightly. "John, she could have killed us, but she shot us some where we could survive. I promise you… you can trust her," I told her before Sherlock and I both grimaced and cried out in pain, starting to fall. John and the paramedics started to lower us to the floor as Sherlock and I clasped hands and held onto each other tightly, not letting anyone break our hold on each other.

"Sherlock? Lexi? Sherlock. Lexi," John called to us before he looked up at the paramedics. "All right, take him," John told the paramedics and Sherlock and I cried out again. I grabbed onto Sherlock's hand, clinging to him as he clung onto me, the two us holding onto each other tightly as if we would slip away from each other if we let go. John released us, watching the paramedics. "Got them?" John asked the paramedics as they laid us down as we groaned and whipped. I bit my lip, trying to stifle my sounds of pain as I felt myself slowly slipping into unconsciousness. John straightened and looked down at us in concern as one of the paramedics got out oxygen masks. I coughed as my breathing slowed down and I started gasping for air. I felt a cool rush of oxygen hit my lngs as the oxygen mask was placed over my head and I breathed in the sweet air thankfully. I took a few more gasping breaths and my head started to clear. Despite the much needed oxygen, I still was on the verge of passing out. I fought to remain conscious for Sherlock. I had to stay awake for him. While the paramedics continued working, John looked across to Mary, breathing heavily and with his teeth slightly bared.

**Mary's POV**

**The Present…Christmas…**

"So, have you read it?" Mary asked John since he wanted to do this now. Oh no, of he wanted to talk she would talk. Lord knows they had done nothing else in the last five months. If he suddenly wanted to talk about this she would. John looked down at the pen drive, repeatedly turning it around in his fingers, the key ring attachment rattling noisily, then he clasped his fist around it and looked at her while gesturing to the floor in front of him.

"W-would you come here a moment?" John asked her and Mary shook her head at him.

"No," She told him, not getting him and standing anywhere near him. The last time she had been in his company he had been staring at her murderously as Lexi and Sherlock went into surgery again. That was when he told her he was moving out and didn't want to see or talk to her again…at least for a while. He needed space to cool down, to think apparently. "Tell me. Have you?" Mary asked him, wondering if that was what had finally prompted this.

"Just ...," John said in an exasperated voice and he paused and seemed to rein in his temper. "...come here," John finished more calmly but he did not leave it open for debate. Mary grimaced unhappily, then unwrapped the blanket from around her stomach and legs and started to stand up, holding one hand to her abdomen. John stepped towards her to help her up but she shook her head at him.

"No, I'm fine," She assured him. She had enough practice without his help any way. Wincing, she got to her feet as John stepped back again. She walked across the room and John turned to one side so that he was side-on to the fireplace. Mary stopped in front of him and lowered her eyes. When John spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper and his throat was tight.

"I've thought long and hard about what I want to say to you," John started and he drew in a long breath through his nose as Mary raised her eyes to him, slightly surprised. "These are prepared words, Mary," John told her and he lowered his head for a moment, grimacing slightly and pulling in another slightly shaky breath before glancing up at her. "I've chosen these words with care and it is something Lexi would probably say because she always seems to know what to say in situations like this," John told her and Mary nodded slightly.

"Okay," She told him nervously, unsure where he was going with this. John cleared his throat, and he rolled the pen drive round in his fingers again. Finally he looked up to meet her eyes and Mary drew in a deep breath, wincing a bit as the baby kicked her.

"The problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future ... are my privilege," John said, still speaking quietly and Mary's face started to crumple a little and tears begin to form in her eyes as she realized that she wasn't losing him after all. All these months she never expected this to be the outcome. "It's all I have to say. It's all I need to know," John told her and he looked down at the pen drive while Mary gazed at him tearfully. After a few moments he glanced up at her again, then turned to the fireplace and dropped the pen drive onto the burning logs. Mary quietly started to cry as she looked at the drive on top of the fire. John cleared his throat again as he turned back to her. "No, I didn't read it," He told her quietly and she looked at him as the first tears started to roll down her face. He forgave her, he burnt the pen drive, her entire past, without even looking at it, seeing what she had done. Lexi once said there was no man greater than John Watson besides Sherlock Holmes and she knew why.

"You don't even know my name,' Mary wailed tearfully.

"Is 'Mary Watson' good enough for you?" John asked her and Mary nodded.

"Yes!" She sobbed as she wiped her fingers under her nose. "Oh my God, yes," She added as she looked at her husband, the one man she loved without a doubt. She knew what Lexi meant when she said she would do anything for Sherlock, even so far as to hurt John if necessary to protect him. It was the same way she felt about John and she technically had hurt Sherlock and Lexi to protect John.

"Then it's good enough for me, too," John told her before he gave her a small smile, the first smile he had sent her that was genuinely happy in five months.

"Oh!" Mary cried and they stepped together and hugged each other tightly as Mary cried. John spoke softly in her ear, his throat still tight.

"All this does not mean that I'm not still basically pissed off with you," John told her and Mary thought that it was like something Lexi would have said to her.

"I know, I know," Mary told him tearfully. She knew he was angry but she would spend every day from here on out trying to make it up to him.

"I am very pissed off, and it will come out now and then," John warned her and Mary nodded in acknowledgement.

"I know, I know, I know," Mary told him before she sniffed and they pulled back far enough to be able to look into each other's eyes.

"You can mow the sodding lawn from now on," John told her softly.

"I do mow the lawn," Mary told him pointedly. She had been mowing the lawn for the last five months until she got Isaac to help her when it got to be too difficult for her to do it on her own.

"No, I do it loads," John argued and Mary shook her head at him, a fond smile on her face.

"You really don't," She told him.

"I choose the baby's name," John said suddenly and Mary scoffed at him.

"Not a chance," Mary told him and John nodded at her.

"Okay," He agreed and they hugged tightly again. "Lexi chooses then?' John said suddenly and Mary pulled back and raised her eyebrow at him in surprise.

"What? Why?" Mary asked John in confusion as she scanned his face for any signs of him joking.

"Well…Sherlock and Lexi can't have kids so…," John said, trailing off awkwardly and Mary and him looked down guiltily. That had been one thing eating at everyone lately. Mary and Joanna had talked about it and they both felt so bad as Lexi went out shopping with them for baby clothes, the two older women knowing that Lexi would never have a baby of her own. "Besides, she's actually rather good at it. Look at Joanna and Mycroft. They liked Cosette and she gave them her second first name and her middle name," John pointed out and Mary hummed and nodded. Lexi did have a knack for stringing names together.

"We'll see," Mary compromised and John smiled at her slightly before they hugged each other tightly again.

**Sherlock's POV**

Outside the cottage, Mycroft and Sherlock were idly wandering along the path in the front garden towards the gate. Joanna had sent them off to bond so that was what they were doing. Last Sherlock had seen, Joanna and Lexi were furiously whispering amongst themselves in the second sitting room before he sent his father on to join them. He was staying out of whatever womanly business she was currently engaged in. With all the hormones currently evoked in Mary and Joanna, they had to have some sort of effect on Lexi. Sherlock had been conducting and experiment before to see if the theory that women actually synced their cycles was valid or night. Of course his information was inconclusive because both Mary and Joanna fell pregnant. Molly however was a good constant as she had no boyfriend or means of getting pregnant. Maybe Lexi was just in a mood because she was two weeks late for her cycle. All the stress recently had pushed her off what with their plans for Magnussen and getting shot. It was normal, the hormones were bound to build up.

Sherlock was indulging in a cigarette, a habit that had been hard to kick. They had tried of course once they came back from their travels but they had been off and on them again for the last year. Generally if he started up again than Lexi would cave and pick it back up and vice versa. Mycroft surprisingly was also smoking. Joanna would have his head is she found out as she hated when Lexi did it and thought smoking was disgusting. That didn't seem to stop him from puffing out lungful's of smoke. Most likely he would try and claim that he smelt like smoke later because he had been standing next to Sherlock after he had brushed his teeth viciously several times. Sherlock smirked at his brother as he took another drag off of his cigarette. Joanna was demanding, even more so now that she was pregnant and she never let Mycroft get away with anything. She would see right through his lies which would mean quite a show for him.

"I'm glad you two have given up on the Magnussen business," Mycroft said suddenly, pulling Sherlock out of his own personal musing about how his sister in law was going to kill his brother later and he looked at his brother and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Are you?" He asked him as he walked along the gravel path at the front of the cottage, kicking a few stones in front of him.

"I'm still curious, though. He's hardly your usual kind of puzzle. Why do you two ... hate him?" Mycroft asked him as he stopped and Sherlock turned round to face him.

"Because he attacks people who are different and preys on their secrets," Sherlock told Mycroft sternly, knowing what it was like to be attacked just because you were different. He went through that enough as a child and Lexi had Moriarty prey upon her secrets enough times for the both of them. "Why don't you?" Sherlock asked his brother curiously. What he could never understand was why his brother protected Magnussen. Magnussen wasn't the sort of man that deserved protection.

"He never causes too much damage to anyone important," Mycroft started, lowering his head slightly. "He's far too intelligent for that. He's a business-man, that's all, and occasionally useful to us. A necessary evil – not a dragon for you to slay," Mycroft told him and Sherlock frowned at his brother's analogy of Magnussen as Mycroft took a drag on his cigarette and Sherlock smiled and walked back to his side.

"A dragon slayer. Is that what you think of me?" Sherlock asked his brother with a smirked, turning as he pulled on his own cigarette. They stood side by side with their backs to the cottage.

"No," Mycroft smiled as he looked over at his brother. "It's what you think of yourself and Lexi is your damsel in distress," Mycroft told him and they both heard a laugh behind them and turned their heads around quickly, as Lexi stepped out of the cottage, her grey coat pulled over her Christmas jumper.

"Hardly Croft. I pride myself in never being the damsel in distress. A warrior princess maybe, but I'm never completely distressed," Lexi said as she walked over to them and they parted so that she could stand between them. Sherlock offered her his cigarette and she waved him off, wrinkling her nose and waving away the smoke a little as she made a face. Sherlock frowned and scanned over her face to see what was bothering her, noticing that her face was slightly flushed and that she looked slightly pale and clammy. He brought his hand up to her forehead and checked it, finding it to be quiet cool and she closed her eyes, sighing softly before she took her hand in her own and kissed it to let him know that she was alright. She looked like she had had a shock recently or been sick but if she claimed she was alright he would trust her. He knew she hadn't been feeling well earlier. Maybe he would have John have a look at her later if she still wasn't feeling better. "But Magnussen…he's taken an interest in Joanna now. She told me so don't complain," Lexi said as she looked over at Mycroft, holding up her hand to him when he went to cut over her. "He's not being so intelligent this time around and he isn't being smart about Mary either. It's why you are protecting him, you're protecting Joanna first… which I highly approve of, of course," Lexi told Mycroft with a nod and he nodded back at her. "What Magnussen has on her could spell trouble, but…," Lexi continued but the cottage door behind them opened again and Mummy Holmes came out onto the step.

"Are you three smoking?" Mummy asked them and the boys and Lexi rapidly spun round to face her, Sherlock and Mycroft frantically holding their cigarettes behind their backs as they looked guiltily at their.

"No!" Mycroft shouted while Sherlock almost simultaneously shouted, "It was Mycroft."

"It was the both of them Mummy and after Christmas Joanna and I will have a discussion with them," Lexi promised her and Mummy nodded at her before she went back inside and shut the door. Sherlock blew out a long plume of smoke in the direction of the door before Lexi turned to him and raised her eyebrow and fixed him with a hard look. He smiled down at her before leaning in and lightly pressing a kiss to her lips. She didn't respond for a second but then she melted into the kiss and made a grumbling sound as she gave in. Mycroft wandered a few paces towards the door to make sure she was gone, then he slowly turned back again as he spoke.

"I have, by the way, a job offer I should like you two to decline," Mycroft told the two detectives as Sherlock wrapped his arm around Lexi's waist and she snuggled herself into his side, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

"We decline your kind offer," Sherlock told Mycroft with a nod.

"With the upmost regrets," Lexi added straight-faced.

"I shall pass on your regrets," Mycroft told them and Lexi raised her eyebrow at him curiously as she tilted her head to the side and studied him.

"What was it?" Sherlock asked him and Lexi hummed slightly.

"MI6 – they want to place you two back into Eastern Europe. An undercover assignment that would prove fatal to you two in, I think, about six months," Mycroft told them and Sherlock, who had started to raise his cigarette to his lips, lowered it again and looked at his brother in surprise.

"Then why don't you want us to take it?" Sherlock asked his brother. Getting rid of the nuisances seemed like something his brother would jump at a chance for.

"And I'm offended. Only six months? Did you fact in that it was your wife was the one who trained me?" Lexi asked Mycroft and he regarded her, as Sherlock rubbed circles on to the bare skin of her hip as her Christmas jumper had ridden up a bit.

"It's tempting ...but on balance you have more utility closer to home. And I did factor that in yes. It wouldn't make a difference. Still, Joanna would hang me if you two weren't here for when the baby arrived," Mycroft said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out before he smiled at us in his typical way.

"Utility! How do we have utility?" Sherlock asked Mycroft in exasperation before he took another drag on his cigarette and Mycroft shrugged slightly.

"Here be dragons," Mycroft quoted and Lexi hummed and looked up at Sherlock.

"And knights to slay them," She said before she reached up and brushed a few of Sherlock's errant curls out of his face. Mycroft took a pull on his own cigarette, then held it up to look at it, frowning before he coughed.

"This isn't agreeing with me. I'm going in," Mycroft told them, dropping the cigarette on the path and treading it out before he turned and walked up the path.

"You need low tar. You still smoke like a beginner," Sherlock called after his brother and Lexi shook her head beside him.

"Make sure you get it all. Joanna has a nose like a bloodhound. And if you so much as kiss her and she tastes just a bit of nicotine she have your hide," Lexi added before Mycroft slowed down and stopped before he reached the door. He paused for a moment before speaking.

"Also, your losses would break my heart," Mycroft told them without turning around, commenting on what he said earlier. Sherlock had just started to take a drag on his cigarette and he started choking and coughing before turning to look at his brother, who still hadn't turned around as Lexi smiled fondly at Mycroft whilst rubbing his back.

"What the hell am I supposed to say to that?!" Sherlock asked his brother in shock.

""Merry Christmas"?" Mycroft asked him, turning round and holding out his arms a little.

"You hate Christmas," Sherlock pointed out to his brother. "Joanna's had to force you into showing about an ounce of holiday spirit," He added and Mycroft pretended to look puzzled.

"Yes," Mycroft said, smiling a little. "Bit Lexi loves it. Perhaps there was something in the punch," Mycroft mused and Lexi hummed thoughtfully as she tilted her head to the side and smirked before shaking her head at him.

"Clearly. Go and have some more," Sherlock told him and Mycroft turned and went up the steps, opening the door. Once Mycroft was inside, Sherlock turned and looked down at his wife who looked slightly better than before. "Are you alright?" Sherlock asked her and she grinned up at him before pressing up on her toes and pulling him into a long and sweet kiss.

"Never better," She told him once they finally broke apart and Sherlock smiled down at her as Lexi laced her fingers with him. Sherlock dropped his cigarette onto the ground and treaded it out before letting Lexi lead him back towards the cottage.

**Third Person POV**

In the sitting room, John and Mary were still locked in a tight hug, swaying a little from side to side.

"So you realise that, er, Lexi and Sherlock got us out here to see his mum and dad for a reason?" Mary asked John curiously.

When Lexi had invited her to come spend Christmas with her and Sherlock and Sherlock's parents and Joanna and Mycroft she knew it was possible that John might be there but as Lexi's friend she didn't think Lexi would invite John since she didn't think Lexi would want to start something over Christmas. It wasn't until she arrived and was told she was sharing a room with John, with two twin beds thankfully, that both she and John, who had arrived earlier than her, found out that the other was also there. She had offered to leave rather than cause a scene but Lexi because well…sort of scary and had ordered them both to stay there. John had therefore been avoiding her company as he was slightly miffed at how she was handling things. Mary knew that Lexi meant well and so far, whatever she had planned had worked.

"His lovely mum and dad. A fine example of married life. I get that," John said with a smiled. "Apparently they're exactly like Sherlock and Lexi. You look at them and you can sort of imagine what they'll be like if you tack on another ten or fifteen years," John said and Mary nodded, laughing slightly before she held the fingers of one hand to her forehead frowning as she instantly felt lightheaded and woozy. "That is the thing with Sherlock and Lexi – it's always the unexpected," John said, unaware of what Mary was doing over his shoulder and unaware of how pale she had turned until she started to slump in his grasp. "Oi," John said and he frowned round to the side of her head. "Oi," He repeated as Mary slumped more, moaning softly as her arms dropped from around him. John took her weight and moved her back so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed and he instantly started to panic as the doctor in him came out. "Mary? Jesus Christ. Mary?" John asked her frantically as he hauled her back towards a nearby armchair. "Sit down," He told her as he lowered her into the armchair. She was now completely unconscious and he took hold of her face, examining her. "Mary, can you hear me?" John asked her as the door opened and Sherlock and Lexi briskly walked into the room.

"Don't drink Mary's tea," Sherlock told John before he turned and left again with Lexi, grabbing his scarf and Lexi's from the peg as they went and draping hers over her neck. John stared towards the door, then looked towards his wife again. "Oh, or the punch!" Sherlock called back loudly.

"Or anything really!" Lexi called back as she and Sherlock moved into the second sitting room next door where a glass was lying overturned on a table and where Papa Holmes was lying on his back on the sofa with his eyes closed. Joanna was passed out at the end of the couch at Papa Holmes feet, her hands protectively over her stomach. Sherlock held his hand over his father's nose to check that he was breathing normally as Lexi moved on and check on Joanna, checking that she was breathing before also checking on her pulse. Once she deemed that she was perfectly fine they continued onwards. John followed them into the room while Sherlock and Lexi headed into the kitchen, where Mummy Holmes was asleep in the armchair in which Sherlock had previously sat, and Mycroft was slumped on a dining chair with his head on the kitchen table and his eyes closed. The kitchen clock above the door showed that about seven minutes had passed since and Sherlock and Lexi nodded at each other in confirmation that their countdown had been exactly accurate.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as Sherlock held the back of his hand to his mother's nose to check her breathing, then walked past Billy, who was standing nearby, and went over to the kitchen table as Lexi covered Mummy Holmes up with a blanket.

"Did you just drug my pregnant wife?" John demanded as he walked into the room.

"And Mycroft's," Sherlock told John as he checked his brother's breathing. "Don't worry. Lexi is an excellent chemist," Sherlock assured John who looked at the Irish woman in surprise.

"Top of all my classes. Passed with flying colours. Still have all the assignments somewhere if you really want to check my grades. Nice to hear you call Mary your wife again," Lexi told John as she moved over to Mycroft and checked on him herself before she looked over at John who was staring back at her, unsure how to take that. "Don't look at me like that Watson. I calculated Mary and Joanna's dosages myself. It won't hurt the babies at all and Billy is here to take care of the both of them," Lexi assured John as she gestured to the boy who nodded as Sherlock put his scarf on.

"He'll monitor their recovery. It's more or less his day job," Billy said as Lexi properly tied her scarf around her neck.

"What the hell have you two done?" John asked the two detectives as he stared at them and Sherlock and Lexi looked down reflectively before they looked up and gazed at each other, sharing a long look before they replied.

"...A deal with the devil," Sherlock told John and Lexi nodded in agreement, her expression becoming sombre.

"And the devil has come to collect," Lexi added and then she looked over at Sherlock and the two detectives shared a long look with one another.

**FLASHBACK**

A blurry figure walked in through a door, closed it, and then walked forward. At the far end of the room Sherlock and Lexi were sitting at a small table which had a red tablecloth. They were wearing hospital gowns and had their morphine drips on a stand beside themselves. On the table in front of Sherlock and Lexi was a plate with a part-finished meal on it. Some penne pasta and what looks like a cherry tomato remained on Sherlock's plated while a bit of spaghetti and chicken parmesan remained on Lexi's. There was also a glass of water and Sangria on the table, the Sangria in front of Lexi and partially finished already. Sherlock chewed and swallowed his latest mouthful of food, not looking up as the other person walked closer. Lexi flicked her gaze upward as she pushed some food around her plate, sitting back slightly in her chair, and grimacing as the action sent a flash of pain through her chest.

"Shouldn't you two be in hospital?" Magnussen asked the two detectives as he walked up to their table.

"I'm a doctor. I avoid hospitals at all costs," Lexi told Magnussen as she pointed her fork at him and then shrugged and he nodded his head at her offhandedly.

"And we are in hospital. This is the canteen," Sherlock told Magnussen, still not looking up at him. Lexi looked over at her husband and smirked at him before looking around the restaurant they were in which was most certainly not the hospital canteen. They had busted out of hospital for the second time not bothering with their clothes for the second escape as they were only going out to get some proper food. They would probably be discovered as missing within the next half an hour and then Mycroft and Joanna would find them within fifteen more minutes from that. They would be sent back to the hospital within the hour but from now until then they had a bit of freedom. There were no other customers in the restaurant at the current time as it was nearly ten at night and the only member of staff was at the far end by the door. Thank God for Italian restaurants that stayed open late. Magnussen looked round the not-canteen as Lexi took another bite of her heavenly food.

"Is it?" Magnussen asked the two detectives and Lexi hummed before nodding at him.

"In our opinion, yes,' Sherlock told him as Lexi chewed and swallowed.

"We've had nothing but hospital food since we've been back in the hospital for the last two weeks. The food is bloody terrible if you can even call it that. I thought the second surgery was bad enough. I have a scar from my navel to my breast bone and so does Sherlock, just to fix the internal bleeding. We were due for some food that you would actually want to eat," Lexi told Magnussen who seemed to give her a sympathetic look before Sherlock gestured with his fork to the chair on the other side of the table from them.

"Have a seat," Sherlock told Magnussen.

"Thank you," Magnussen told him and Sherlock laid his fork down on his plate and watched as Magnussen sat down opposite them. Lexi folded her hands over her fork and rested her chin on them as she studied Magnussen closely.

"We've been thinking about you," Sherlock told Magnussen and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"I've been thinking about you," Magnussen told the two detectives and Lexi raised her eyebrow at him curiously.

"Really?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi tilted her head to the side.

"How nice. I feel so loved," Lexi told Magnussen with a sarcastic smirk and Magnussen chuckled slightly at her as Sherlock weakly reached across to their morphine controls and hit their buttons three times each.

"We want to see Appledore, where you keep all the secrets, all the files, everything you've got on everyone. We want you to invite us," Sherlock said as he turned back to Magnussen and the three of them locked eyes.

"What makes you think I'd be so careless?" Magnussen asked the two detectives and Lexi lowered her fork to her plate before he folded her hands in a prayer position over her face and regarded him closely, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh, we think you're a lot more 'careless' than you let on," Sherlock told him softly and intensely.

"Am I?" Magnussen asked him softly as he leaned in to the detective, watching his wife closely. She was studying him with her head tilted to the side and the way her eyes were slightly out of focused it was as if she was calculating, thinking about something, he noticed the look. Sherlock had his elbows on the table with his hands clasped in front of him. He too leaned forward, and smiled as he looked into Magnusson's eyes.

"It's the dead-eye stare that gives it away," Sherlock told Magnussen and Magnussen looked back at him unblinking. "Except it's not dead-eyed, is it?"" Sherlock asked him, unclasping his hands and slowly lifting them towards the other man. He continued to reach towards Magnusson's face, moving slowly so that the man knew what he was doing. Sherlock winced and sucked in a sharp pained breath as he extended his arms and slowly took hold of Magnusson's glasses and took them off while Lexi squeezed his arm comfortingly. Magnusson's eyes flickered towards the glasses when they left his face but then he returned his gaze to Sherlock. He blinked at the blurry figure of the detective's wife who even out of focus was a lovely figure to behold. Magnussen held no ill will for either of the Mrs. Holmes'. Both women were charming and lovely but he had a business to run and he could not be proceeded as soft because he let to women go. The former Miss MacKenna had far less information that was useful to use however than the other Mrs. Holmes, formerly Miss Reyer. Now she was a bad, bad girl. Not as bad as Mrs. Watson, but she certainly was naughty. "You're reading," Sherlock said, drawing Magnussen's attention again and the detective smiled slightly as he drew the glasses towards himself and looked down at them. "Portable Appledore," He snorted briefly before he looked across to Magnussen. "How does it work?" He asked him and Magnussen looked down at the glasses as the detective's wife also glanced down at them curiously. "Built-in flash drive?" The detective asked as he lifted the glasses towards his own face. "4G wireless?" He added before he put them on and raised his head as he looked through the lenses. After a moment he frowned, turning his head a little and then lowering it before he slowly took the glasses off again, blinking as if confused. He looked down at them, turning them in his hands. "They're just ordinary spectacles," Sherlock said as Lexi frowned and then blinked rapidly, a spark of some realization alighting in her eyes.

"Yes – they are," Magnussen told him, amused to see him so disappointed. Sherlock grimaced slightly, still looking down at the glasses. And Magnussen looked at him and his wife, his vision slightly blurred without his glasses on, but text appeared in front of his eyes in red:

**PRESSURE POINT: MORPHINE (ADD TO FILE)**

He lowered his head and smiled, then reached across with one hand and flicked through the pasta on Sherlock's plate with his fingers, unearthing a black olive. Sherlock continued to stare down at the glasses.

"You underestimate me, Mr. Holmes," Magnussen told the detective before he gestured to the detective's wife. "But not your wife. No, I believe she already figured it out. She just doesn't know it herself yet," Magnussen said and Lexi hummed slightly in agreement with him.

"That tends to happen sometimes regrettably," She told him as she sat back in her seat and crossed her legs at the knee, regarding him closely and Sherlock sank back in his seat, still looking at the glasses in disbelief.

"Your wife is very brilliant Mr. Holmes," Magnussen complimented Sherlock as he picked up the olive and put it in his mouth, then licked his thumb and forefinger before reaching across to the glass of water and dabbling the licked digits in it. With his other hand he reached across the table and took his glasses from Sherlock, then shook the water off his wet fingers onto the plate and put his glasses back on. Sherlock slowly lowered his own hands to the table, looking down as if still in shock.

"Of course she is brilliant. She's my wife," Sherlock told Magnussen and Lexi looked over at her husband and reached out, taking his hand in hers. It did actually touch Magnussen's heart in some way to see how close they were. Of course that would not stop him from using them against each other should the need arise. They already proved to him that when it came to pressure points, they were each other's number one pressure point. "Go on then," Sherlock said quietly. "Impress us. Show us Appledore."

"Everything's available for a price," Magnussen told them as he chewed on the olive and Sherlock lifted his eyes to his as Lexi turned her head to him, her crimson hair falling around her shoulders with the movement. "Are you two making me an offer?" Magnussen asked them interestedly.

"A Christmas present," Sherlock offered up.

"And what are you two giving me for Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes?" Magnussen asked them, inclining his head.

"My brother," Sherlock smiled before Lexi sighed.

"And his wife. Should that suffice?" Lexi added and Magnussen smirked slightly as he looked at the Irish woman. Well…the not so Irish woman.

"More than," Magnussen told her. "I am curious though. Why would you hand over a woman that is like a sister to you, to me?" Magnussen asked her as he folded his hands and watched the woman closely.

"All information comes at a price Mr. Magnussen. Unless you have something to offer up in return…," Lexi said and Magnussen chuckled as Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion, watching his wife. Obviously he was not privy to whatever scheme she was currently hatching.

"I see Miss Reyer, no Mrs. Holmes trained you well," Magnussen told her and Lexi nodded and hummed in agreement.

"Especially in negotiations, but then you would already know her record for that," Lexi said and Magnussen nodded. It was an impressive record. Only one death. And over something so trivial too.

"I think we could strike a deal. I am curious as to why you would give up Joanna and I have information for you that might interest you," Magnussen said and Lexi narrowed her eyes at him as she studied him for a long moment.

"Go on," She told him and Magnussen smirked at her as Sherlock watched the proceedings cautiously.

"It's a matter of you parentage," Magnussen told her and Lexi frowned at him in confusion as Sherlock looked at him angrily. "No need to look so severe," Magnussen told the detective with a smile and the woman looked over to her husband and put her hand over his, still looking confused. "This was something I didn't actually unearth so much so as I was privy to. I knew Lord Alistair of Belmory. Not well, but I frequented the same social circles as him, your mother, and Lord Breccan MacKenna. Some people do tend to overhear things if they care to listen," Magnussen told the young woman who nodded at him and gestured for him to continue. "You wouldn't have been told this story, in fact I'm quite certain it would have been kept from you. You see your mother Imogen was first courted by Lord Alistair. She was a terrible beauty your mother. She was a fiery Scottish woman with a hot temper to her. She was strong willed, fiercely loyal and protective of those she loved. She was also quite brilliant. She had no wealth of her own though. That didn't stop the men from being interested in her, especially Lord Breccan MacKenna. Alistair got to her first though and sooner rather than later the two of them were thick as thieves, never parted from each other's company. But then they had the most terrible argument. See she found out that he was actually engaged to another woman during the entire time they were together. So she ran off with Breccan and married him without delay in retaliation. Their wedding was only a month later. She moved off to Ireland and curse Alistair's name with a passion and then he moved in right down the way from her, at first just so that she would have to see him. But then things went sour for her. Breccan didn't behave so nicely after he won the woman," Magnussen explained smirking slightly and Lexi nodded, her mouth drawn into a hard line as she listened to him.

"Yes, I'm quite aware of how my father is thank you very much. That is not new news for me to hear. He is a drunk and abusive. Thank you for telling me something I already know. This deal is done," Lexi told him before she stood up, Sherlock standing with her and the two detectives started to walk away from him towards the door with their morphine drips.

"You mean thank you for telling you about how your father was not a drunk and abusive?" Magnussen asked her with a grin and she turned back round to him slowly. "Lord Breccan MacKenna is not your father," Magnussen told her before he gestured back to the chairs. "I suggest that you sit down again," He told the two detectives who looked to be grimacing in pain. "Wouldn't want you two to die before you found out the truth," He told them, still grinning and they returned to their seats and sat down before Magnussen continued. "Imogen soon found out that Breccan was a drunk and abusive as you said so, despite her pride, she went to the only person she knew in all of Ireland, Alistair. Well after some explanations which included Alistair explaining to Imogen how he had broken off his engagement, Imogen and Alistair started having an affair. Soon Imogen fell pregnant. That was fine, but nine months later she had a baby with her red hair and Alistair's hazel eyes and she died giving birth. Breccan knew immediately that the baby wasn't his and then she grew up to be a consulting detective," Magnussen finished as he saw he shocked expression on the woman's face.

"Alistair was my father?" She asked him and Magnussen nodded at him. He expected to use this against her, another pressure point. Ah it was perfect. And in the meantime he would find out why she had given him over Joanna. All in all it was a good deal. "Hmm?" Lexi said before she looked over at Sherlock and grinned and the consulting detective grinned back at her. "That's funny. 'Cos I remember Sherlock telling me about that before," Lexi said and Magnussen's smile faded away. "Sherlock figured that out when we visited Alistair while he was dying. He didn't tell me then because it was a rough patch with Irene but he told me later on while we were traveling. Like I told him then. Alistair was and always will be my dad so it doesn't make an ounce of difference if I knew before or not," Lexi said before she leaned in closer to Magnussen. "And as for Joanna. We have a system. And that is all you need to know," Lexi said before she and Sherlock got up and left the restaurant, leaving Magnussen sitting there, having been beaten at his own game by the technically not Irish detective.

THE PRESENT.

In the kitchen, Sherlock and Lexi were still looking at each other thoughtfully and John turned away from them unable to process what exactly was going on here. All he knew was that Lexi had drugged both his pregnant wife and Mycroft's and Sherlock's parents were also drugged and passed out around the house. It was supposed to be Christmas and they were going on about making a deal with the devil for Christ's sake.

"Oh, Jesus," John exclaimed softly. He walked away, while Sherlock and Lexi looked down at the unconscious Mycroft. John went into the next door sitting room and looked down at Sherlock's father on the sofa and Joanna, then stopped and grimaced with his fists clenched. "Sherlock, Lexi..." John said and in the kitchen, Sherlock was putting his gloves on as Lexi pulled a pair of mittens out of her coat pockets. "...please tell me you two haven't just gone out of your minds," John said from the sitting room as Sherlock bent down and took the silver-grey laptop from the table, pulling it from under where Mycroft had one hand resting on it..

"We'd rather keep you guessing," Sherlock told their army doctor as Lexi giggled slightly.

"And haven't you been wondering that about me ever since we met?" Lexi asked the army doctor as John turned towards the second sitting room where Mary was, but just then the sound of an approaching helicopter could be heard. In the kitchen, Sherlock and Lexi looked upwards.

"Ah," Sherlock smiled. "There's our lift," Sherlock said happily, taking Lexi's hand in his and she hummed in agreement as John walked across the room and looked through a window.

"Bout time too," Lexi remarked as Sherlock leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Lexi's head and she sighed in contentment for a moment before they made for the door, Sherlock checking to see that she was properly bundled up against the cold first, seeing as she was feeling unwell earlier even if she hadn't outwardly told him she was and had told him she was fine. Very shortly afterwards, as the helicopter flew low past the front of the cottage, John walked down the path with Sherlock and Lexi behind him, Sherlock holding the laptop under his left arm while Lexi held a coat in her right hand. John went through the gate as the helicopter landed in a field in front of the cottage.

"Coming?" Sherlock asked him as he and Lexi walked to John's side.

"Where?" John asked the two detectives in confusion.

"D'you want your wife to be safe?" Sherlock asked their army doctor and John nodded at him.

"Yeah, of course I do," John told them and the three of them turned and looked at the helicopter.

"Good, because this is going to be incredibly dangerous John. I mean that. Out of everything we have ever done the three of us, A Study in Pink, The Black Lotus, Moriarty, Irene, Baskerville, Reichenbach, the bomb train, our wedding, this is the most dangerous thing we will ever do together…," Lexi listed off and Sherlock looked down at her as she spoke before he looked over at John who looked shocked.

"One false move and we'll have betrayed the security of the United Kingdom and be in prison for high treason. Magnussen is quite simply the most dangerous man we've ever encountered, and the odds are comprehensively stacked against us," Sherlock told John quick fire and Lexi tilted her head to the side.

"I don't know if he is the most dangerous man we've ever encountered," Lexi countered and Sherlock looked down at her, raising his eyebrow questioningly. "Moriarty still holds that record in my book. We know what Magnussen will do. Moriarty was always unpredictable," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"But it's Christmas," John finally managed to tell the two detectives indignantly and Sherlock smiled happily.

"I feel the same," Sherlock told John before he turned and saw John's expression and his smiled faded as Lexi squeezed his hand. "Oh, you mean it's actually Christmas," Sherlock said, slightly crestfallen.

"It is actually love. Tinsel, fairy lights, mistletoe," Lexi laughed before she pulled Sherlock down and kissed him briefly and he smiled down at her fondly when they broke apart. "But it's that kind of Christmas too," She told him and it was Sherlock's turn to lean down and kiss her before he straightened up and turned to their army doctor again.

"Did you bring your gun as I suggested?" Sherlock asked him and John looked at him in exasperation.

"Why would I bring my gun to Lexi's cottage to spend time with your parents for Christmas dinner?!"John asked the two detectives and Lexi just smirked at him.

"Because you always bring your gun with you like I always bring mine," Lexi told him as she slipped hers out of her coat pocket and held it up and John sighed at her,

"Is it in your coat?" Sherlock asked John as Lexi held John's coat out to him with a smug smile on her face as she swayed from side to side slightly.

"Yes," John said tetchily as he took it from her and she stowed her gun back away as she laughed brightly.

"Army doctor," She threw at him and John smirked at her.

"Irish woman," John threw back and she and Sherlock exchanged a look before the both of them chuckled. "Off we go, then," Sherlock said as he held onto Lexi's hand tighter and the both of them settled down as they started to walk towards the helicopter that was waiting for them and Lexi slipped into her tense, protective stance.

"Where are we going?" John asked the two detectives as he looked over at them, seeing Lexi and Sherlock's determined expressions.

"Appledore," The two detectives said in unison as they made their way across the lawn, a tension building in the both of them. They both knew what they would do if the situation presented itself to them and they would do it for John. Lexi just hoped it wouldn't come to that. Sherlock and her had had their lives torn apart by so much already and they deserved to have some time to settle down. An east wind was blowing though and she knew that it was coming for them both. They would do anything to protect John and Mary and if they did anything, it would be together, always and forever.


	101. The East Wind Cometh

**Hello old friend. And here we are. You and me, on the last page of this story. By the time you read these words, Lexi and Sherlock's story will only be half done. This is a story that will continue. If you're patient, the days are coming that you'll never forget because the road goes ever on. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. This has been an amazing journey for me and I want to thank you all for sharing it with me. But the days are not over yet. Lexi and Sherlock will return with the special and with Season 4 and I do have a story in the works which I might have hinted to in this paragraph alone. Now faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens and an author is never late, she post precisely when she means to, so without further ado the last installment for now of The Resident Sociopaths of 221B. Joanna's tale will finish some time after the new year. And if it is the last time I'll be saying this for a while...Allonsy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ninety Nine- The East Wind Cometh<strong>

**Third Person POV**

In a large sitting room where one entire long wall was made of glass and looked out to the grounds, Magnussen lowered his whiskey glass at the sound of an approaching helicopter. The helicopter, which had the "CAM" logo on its side, flew down towards the house while Sherlock, Lexi, and John look down at it. Lexi narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the house, mapping out the probabilities and layout of the house from above. She could tell that Magnussen's house was just as highly secured as his office was if not more so. That could be slightly problematic for them. Of course, she and Sherlock had fought their way out of worse before but now they also had John to worry about. They landed on the grass not far from the house while Magnussen continued to sit on a long curved white leather sofa, not looking round to watch their arrival. Security men walked towards the helicopter while another stood on the patio outside the house. Sherlock got out of the helicopter before helping Lexi out and John stepped out behind her, the boys closing ranks around her surreptitiously as they shared a look over the top of her head. The three of them walked towards the house and the helicopter took off again and flew away. They weren't even given a pat down by security which told John that Magnussen wasn't worried about them. He was being arrogant. That was a lot different than the first time they had met him. Sherlock and Lexi said they had made a deal with the devil. They hadn't. They couldn't have. Surely they wouldn't make a deal with someone like Magnussen.

Shortly afterwards a security man lead the boys and Lexi through an inside area which was lined with large green exotic plants. Lexi narrowed her eyes as she walked around the halls and John could see that Lexi was tense, calculating every movement. She was on edge which meant that she was being careful. Another man was following behind them and every so often Lexi would turn her head to keep him in her line of sight. Sherlock walked calmly beside her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed skin of her hip. It calmed her down slightly, but only just. John knew that she was worried about something. She only got this worried when it was possible that he or Sherlock could be in danger. Magnussen was a dangerous man. Lexi knew that better than anyone and ever since Moriarty she was cautious of everyone. If Lexi was anything, she would always be protective of the ones she loved. Magnussen was sitting on the sofa one level above them. He took a drink from his glass as his men escorted Sherlock, Lexi and John into the room. Sherlock and Lexi stopped a couple of paces in front of the sofa while John stood a little way behind and to one side of them. Magnussen nodded to his men and they turned and left. John noticed that Lexi tilted her head to the side and proceeded to study Magnussen.

"I would offer you a drink…," Magnussen said as he lifted his glass. "…but it's very rare and expensive," He finished as he drank before he inclined his head to Lexi. "Would you care for some Mrs. Holmes? I hear your taste for fine liquor is exceptional," Magnussen offered and Lexi shook her head politely.

"No thank you. I would prefer to conduct this matter of business with a level head," Lexi told Magnussen before she and Sherlock turned and sat down on the sofa a couple of feet to Magnussen's right. Sherlock pulled Lexi into his side and he sighed with a contented sound and slapped his hands down on the white leather on the other side of him, putting the laptop down between himself and Magnussen before he crossed his legs and then proceeded to ignored Magnussen by playing with Lexi's hair. Lexi looked up at Sherlock and smiled at him fondly but John could tell that she was still slightly tense about the whole situation which was why Sherlock was trying to calm her down. Both Sherlock and Lexi looked across to the other side of the room then.

"Oh. It was you," Sherlock said calmly as Lexi hummed as thoughtful sound. Projected onto a glass wall opposite them was footage of Sherlock and Lexi's rescue of John from the bonfire. The footage repeated on a continuous loop and John could see Lexi's eyes narrowing the more she watched whatever it was that she was seeing.

"Yes, of course," Magnussen confirmed and Lexi looked over at him as John glanced over his shoulder and turned back, then did a double-take as he realized what it was that he was seeing.

"You know I started to suspect that it was you Magnussen," Lexi told Magnussen darkly.

"What gave it away?" Magnussen asked her, raising his eyebrow as he smiled at her slightly.

"John. Now, Sherlock and I had only been back in London for less than twenty-four hours before John was taken. The news had only just broken. We have enemies to be sure, but none that could mobilize that quickly. Also John…why take John. Surly if they were our enemy they would want to kidnap us. No, they took John. I knew this was for something else, something important. It was all a test. A matter of seeing what we would do. You wanted to find out what we would do for John Watson after leaving him for two years," Lexi explained quick fire and Magnussen nodded at her with a large smile on his face.

"Good, very good," Magnussen complimented her before he looked over at Sherlock. "She's still as sharp as ever," He added and Sherlock hummed as his arm tightened around Lexi. "Very hard to find a pressure point on you two, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen told them as he studied the two consulting detectives and they hummed in response as John turned and walked towards the wall. "The drugs thing I never believed for a moment," Magnussen told them as John continued walking closer to the wall, staring at the footage with his mouth open in shock.

"Well… it was worth a try," Lexi remarked, shrugging mildly and then she looked over at John who was still staring at the footage. It wasn't so much that he couldn't believe that he was thrown into the fire, it was seeing Lexi throw herself into the burning fire for him. It was one thing to know she had done it and another thing to see it for himself.

"Anyway, you wouldn't care if it was exposed, would you?" Magnussen asked them and Sherlock tilted his head, quirked his mouth, and shrugged.

"Not really no, we've never really cared what people think," Lexi told Magnussen and he nodded at her before he looked across at the screen, all of them viewing it now.

"But look how you two care about John Watson," Magnussen told them as they watched the slow motion footage of Sherlock dragging John out from under the bonfire again and then Sherlock desperately finding Lexi and pulling her out before it looped back to show Lexi diving into the bonfire to find John. "Your damsel in distress…not to mention your wife. She threw herself into the fire for him after jumping off of a moving motorbike," Magnussen said and Lexi looked over at Magnussen and narrowed her eyes at him darkly.

"I will always protect John Watson. I'd like to think that up until now I've done a rather good job of it," Lexi told Magnussen and John turned around in surprise at her admission and by Magnussen's revelation.

"You ...," Johns said as he walked closer to Magnussen, his voice tight and furious "...put me in a fire ... for leverage?" John asked Magnussen angrily as he looked over at Lexi and nodded at her slightly to let her know that he had heard her.

"And Mrs. Holmes, I knew I didn't have to kidnap her though. I knew she would throw herself right into the fire because of you. Oh, but I'd never let you two burn, Doctor Watson," Magnussen told John as he divulged the rest of his plan. He sat up and put his glass onto the clear glass table in front of him, then looked up at John again. "I had people standing by, besides I knew that Lexi would get you out of it. Her previous track record speaks for itself," Magnussen added and Sherlock looked up thoughtfully as Magnussen stood up. "I'm not a murderer ... unlike your wife," Magnussen added and John stared up at him grimly. Lexi threw John a look and shook her head at him. John held Magnussen's gaze for a while, then glanced across to Sherlock and Lexi. Magnussen walked over towards the wall. "Let me explain how leverage works, Doctor Watson," Magnussen said and Lexi groaned, drawing everyone's attention to her.

"Honestly, are we actually going to do this Magnussen?" Lexi asked the man as he paused and he smiled at her tightly.

"Oh do indulge my whims," He told her and she smiled at him sarcastically before rolling her eyes and gesturing for him to continue. As he reached the wall, he put one finger on it at the side of the projected footage. There was a beep and as Magnussen slid his finger across the glass, the footage slid with it and disappeared off to the side. "For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes is the most powerful man in the country. Well ... apart from me," Magnussen said as he turned back to them. John tilted his head at him questioningly while the side of Sherlock's mouth lifted in a small smile. Lexi however was watching Magnussen, her mouth drawn into a hard line and her eyes watching him like a hawk. "His wife, Joanna Holmes, is the most powerful woman on the globe, with enough power in her hands to topple any known government. And then of course the British Government decided to bed and wed her. Very smart play," Magnussen said with a smirk and Lexi bared her teeth at him as Sherlock's arm tightened around her waist. "Mycroft's pressure point is his wife, his junkie detective brother, Sherlock, and his danger and drug addicted sister in law, Lexi. Joanna's pressure points are her husband, her sister in law Lexi, her brother in law Sherlock, and yes John Watson, you," Magnussen said and John's eyes widened in surprise as Magnussen walked back across the roof to the sofa. "And Sherlock and Lexi's pressure points are their best friend, John Watson and each other. Though Lexi also will protect each and every person she loves which includes Mycroft and Joanna and Mary Watson. John Watson's pressure points are his wife and his two best friends Sherlock and Lexi Holmes. I own John Watson's wife ...," Magnussen said as he looked round to Sherlock and Lexi. "... I own Mycroft and Joanna," Magnussen continued as he sat down again. "They're what I'm getting for Christmas," Magnussen said and even though the laptop was almost within his reach, he held out his hand towards Sherlock and Lexi. Without looking round, Sherlock shoved it across the sofa towards him.

"It's an exchange, not a gift," Sherlock told Magnussen as he and Lexi stood up in unison and Magnussen raised his eyebrows at him.

"And we've made an exchange before Magnussen. That didn't work so well for you that time so don't try and get clever now," Lexi told him and John looked at her questioningly as she and Sherlock walked a few paces forward, then turned round again. Magnussen picked up the laptop after shooting Lexi a look.

"Forgive me, but ...," Magnussen told her as he held the laptop to his chest and ran his fingers over the back. "... I already seem to have it," Magnussen told her and she hummed, nodding slightly.

"It's password protected," Sherlock told him as Magnussen continued to run his fingers over the machine.

"And Joanna creates all of the passwords for both her and Mycroft's systems. They are nearly unbreakable unless you know a hacker who knows Joanna. I was taught by her, thus I am the only one that could unlock her and Mycroft's laptops," Lexi told Magnussen as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"In return for the password, you will give us any material in your possession pertaining to the women we know as Mary Watson and Joanna Holmes," Sherlock told Magnussen who grinned in a cat ate the canary sort of way at them.

"Oh, she's bad, that one, Mary Watson. So many dead people. You should see what I've seen," Magnussen said as he looked over at John who shook his head immediately.

"I don't need to see it," John told Magnussen through clenched teeth.

"You might enjoy it, though," Magnussen goaded him and John swallowed but held his gaze. "I enjoy it," Magnussen added and John nodded, not surprised in the least bit. "As for Joanna, well…her file is slight humorous but oh the things she has done. She has been so terribly naughty. All those government scandals. All those governments she's destroyed. So much power for one woman. And she hardly looks like anything does she? Though she is truly very pretty. I guess that's why she was such an easy conquest for the British Government. Tame the wild heart. Make her his wife and he could control her," Magnussen tutted and Lexi growled slightly under her breath and Magnussen smirked at her, knowing he was getting to her by taking shots at those that she cared for.

"Then why don't you show us?" Sherlock asked Magnussen nonchalantly, drawing the conversation away to a different subject as he drew Lexi closer to him and rubbed her hip to calm her down. He felt her entire body relax into his touch as she closed her eyes from a brief moment, trusting him and calming.

"Show you Appledore?" Magnussen asked them incredulously as he puts the laptop onto the sofa beside him, then looks back at Sherlock and Lexi. "The secret vaults? Is that what you two want?" Magnussen asked them curiously.

"We want everything you've got on Mary and Joanna," Sherlock told Magnussen intensely and Magnussen let out a short breathy laugh, shaking his head a little, then he lowered his eyes, scratched the back of his head and chuckled for a few seconds. John's mouth twisted and he shot a brief glance towards Sherlock and Lexi. Lexi was frowning as she studied Magnussen and she closed her eyes, her eyelids fluttering quickly as if she was calculating again. Eventually Magnussen stopped sniggering and looked down to the laptop, patting it and grimacing a little.

"You know, I honestly expected something good," Magnussen told them, sounding slightly disappointed as Lexi's eyes flashed open, widening a bit for a moment in surprise before she frowned and looked off to the side as if she was confused.

"Oh, I think you'll find the contents of that laptop ...," Sherlock began before Magnussen cut him off, John still realizing that Lexi was not paying attention. In fact it looked like she was deducing, but what could she be deducing? There was nothing to figure out here.

"...include a GPS locator which Joanna Holmes most likely set up herself. By now, your brother and his wife will have noticed the theft, and security services will be converging on this house. Having arrived ...," Magnussen said as he looked down at the laptop before he continued. "...they'll find top secret information in my hands ...," Magnussen said before he reached forward and picked up his glass from the table. "...and have every justification to search my vaults. They will discover further information of this kind and I'll be imprisoned. You and your wife will be exonerated, and restored to your smelly little apartment to solve crimes with Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath," Magnussen finished as he looked at John, who held his gaze, though his cheeks moved as if he was gritting his teeth a little. Magnussen threw a hideous smile at Lexi next, having obviously never gotten over the punch she threw at him in their flat. Only once Magnussen started talking again did John cast a quick glance at Sherlock and Lexi. Lexi having once again re-joined the conversation, only this time her expression remained blank. "Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time, ever since I started threatening his wife. He'll be a very, very proud big brother," Magnussen said as he lifted his glass closer to his mouth. He finished his drink, emptying his glass.

"The fact that you know it's going to happen isn't going to stop it," Sherlock warned Magnussen who put his glass down on the table.

"Then why am I smiling?" Magnussen asked him as he looked up at Sherlock and Lexi and smiled a little. Sherlock looked at him thoughtfully. "Ask me. Go on. Your wife knows," Magnussen told him and Sherlock looked over at Lexi who nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off of Magnussen who only smiled wider ad her admission.

"Why are you smiling?" John asked as he took one step closer to Magnussen, knowing that Sherlock would never ask him and Lexi wouldn't reveal what she knew. That was the way it always worked.

"Because Sherlock Holmes has made one enormous mistake which will destroy the lives of everyone he loves ...," Magnussen answered him as he looked down a little before he looked back at Sherlock again. "... and everything he holds dear, including his wife," Magnussen finished and Sherlock and Magnussen both turned and looked over at the red head.

"Lexi?" Sherlock asked her and she turned and looked at him grimly.

"I told you I hate it when I'm right," Lexi told him and Sherlock frowned at her as she shook her head a bit and looked away from him. Magnussen stood up slowly and Lexi turned back, watching him carefully.

"Let me show you the Appledore vaults," Magnussen told them before he led them across the room and through the open glass doors of the study. He walked across to the wooden doors at the side of the room and then turned back to the others, putting a hand on the doors. "The entrance to my vaults. This is where I keep you all," Magnussen told them before he turned and took hold of the door handles, then pulled the doors open. Magnussen stepped slowly through the doors, looking all around while Sherlock and John looked uncertainly at what they could see. Lexi didn't even look surprised in the least bit. After a moment Magnussen slowly began to turn around. Inside the doors was nothing more than a small windowless room, painted white and brightly lit. It was no more than a few feet deep and the ceiling was about eight feet high. There were no shelves, no library stacks, no filing cabinets, no grotesque dolls, stuffed animals or sculptures. The only thing in the room was a metal and leather low-backed executive chair. As Magnussen slowly continued to turn around, Sherlock's eyes quickly skimmed around the whiteness, then his eyes went back to Magnussen, then flicked over to Lexi in surprise.

"Okay – so where are the vaults, then?" John asked Magnussen in confusion and Lexi sighed heavily.

"Vaults? What vaults?" Magnussen asked as he looked at the army doctor. "There are no vaults beneath this building," Magnussen told him as he sat down on the chair, then gestured around the room. "They're all in here. Lexi figured it out ages ago," Magnussen said and Lexi raised her eyebrow at Magnussen, still tensing whenever he called her that. He knew what he was doing to which was why he did it. John frowned and blinked in confusion. Sherlock's eyes were wide as he began to realize the truth and Lexi nodded at him as her arm tightened around him. Magnussen leaned forward and slowly raised the fingers of his right hand to touch his temple. "The Appledore vaults are my Mind Palace. You know about Mind Palaces, don't you, Sherlock, Lexi?" Magnussen asked the two detectives and Sherlock swallowed and then opened his mouth slightly. "How to store information so you never forget it – by picturing it. I just sit here, I close my eyes ...," Magnussen said as he did so, slowly lowering his head. "... and down I go to my vaults," Magnussen continued while inside his head, he opened his eyes and then walked down the wooden spiral staircase. Sitting with his eyes closed in the white room he spoke aloud to the detectives. "I can go anywhere inside my vaults ...," He told them while in his head, he walked through the library stacks, his fingers flickering towards the shelves. "...my memories," He told them as he reached the dark, creepy end of the Mind Palace. In the white room, he turned his head from side to side a little with his eyes still closed. In his Mind Palace he walked past the creepy displayed objects. In the white room he lifted his right hand and reached forward. "I'll look at the files on Mrs. Watson," Magnussen told them while in his Mind Palace, he reached towards a filing cabinet with his right hand. He could hear himself pull one of the drawers open.

Outside the white room, Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head a little, his lips pulled back from his teeth. John stared at Magnussen as he raised both hands and flickered his fingers in front of him as if he was working his way through the files inside the imaginary drawer. Lexi closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly and her eyelids flickered rapidly as she ran through her own Mind Palace, searching for a plan, a way out, something to help them with this new development. Magnussen could hear the files moving under his fingers. John cleared his throat and looked down with a humourless smile as he started to understand how Magnussen's mind worked. Still flicking through the files in the drawer, Magnussen hummed idly to himself while, in his Mind Palace, he worked his way along the files.

"Mmm, ah," Magnussen said while in the white room he lifted his right hand as if lifting a folder out of the drawer. "This is one of my favourites," He told them as he sat back in the chair while, in his head, he looked at the file with a picture of Mary paper-clipped to the inside. "Oh, it's so exciting," He told them, lowering his head in the white room with his eyes still closed, he moved his hands as if he was turning the pages inside the file. Sherlock lowered his head with a shocked look on his face while Magnussen chuckles quietly. Lexi's eyes flashed open and she looked over at Sherlock having a quick and very intense silent conversation with him. He nodded at her, knowing that what she suggested to him was their only option at this point. In his Mind Palace Magnussen was looking at a sheet of paper to which was stuck a photograph of Mary looking grimly into the camera, and another photograph which was too blurry to see clearly. "All those wet jobs for the CIA. Ooh!" Magnussen said excitedly while in the white room, he pointed to an imaginary page in the file. "She's gone a bit ... freelance now. Bad girl," Magnussen said as he turned the imaginary page and sniggered. Inside his Mind Palace he sniggered again, letting out an amused, "Ohh!" In the white room he held up a finger, then chuckled even more, then turned another imaginary page, still smiling. "Ah, she is so wicked," He said delightedly and in his Mind Palace he turned back to the front page of the file. In the white room he lifted his right hand as if putting the closed file back into the cabinet. "I can really see why you like her," Magnussen told them and with both hands, he pushed the imaginary drawer closed again. In his Mind Palace he did likewise with the 'real' drawer. "And Joanna Holmes? How many wars did she start? She only ever killed one person, over something so ridiculous too, but how many people have died because of her actions? How many lives has she destroyed? Naughty girl. I can see why you are friends with her Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen mused before, in the white room, he lifted both hands and turned them over, then opened his eyes and looks at Sherlock and Lexi. "You see? I am curious though, how did you figure it out?" Magnussen asked Lexi and she gestured to his eyes.

"The staring. Sherlock and I do it too when we are thinking or using our Mind Palaces. Most times we close our eyes or look away so people don't notice it. Not you. Sherlock mentioned it before to us. The dead eyed stare he called it. Then you mentioned that you were reading and that there was quite a lot. You can't deduce people, but you have a Mind Palace, it's how you managed to store away every scrap of information on everyone of importance. You called yours Appledore. I wasn't sure at first if I was right. It wasn't confirmed until now," Lexi said and Sherlock looked over at her as Magnussen nodded in confirmation. John cleared his throat, getting their attention.

"So there are no documents. You don't actually have anything here," John asked Magnussen in confusion.

"Oh, sometimes I send out for something ... ," Magnussen told him as he lifted his left hand and looked down at his watch "...if I really need it ...," Magnussen continued as Sherlock looked at Lexi and closed his eyes briefly as he buried his face into her hair, inhaling sharply. "...but mostly I just remember it all. I have a very good memory much like Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen, told John as Lexi turned to Sherlock and caught his hand in hers while Magnussen was distracted and pressed a kiss to his cheek, soothing him.

"I don't understand," John said, shaking his head in confusion.

"You should have that on a T-shirt," Magnussen told him as Sherlock and Lexi looked back over at the pair.

"You just remember it all?" John asked Magnussen in disbelief. He had seen Lexi do amazing things like when she and Sherlock had conducted and experiment with several televisions and she had been able to recite word for word what had just been said on one of several of the monitors that were running simultaneously. That was Lexi though. John could only place his faith in two people's abilities and that was Sherlock and Lexi.

"It's all about knowledge. Everything is. Knowing is owning," Magnussen said as he looked at Sherlock and Lexi.

"But if you just know it, then you don't have proof," John argued with him and Magnussen looked at him incredulously.

"Proof? What would I need proof for? I'm in news, you moron. I don't have to prove it – I just have to print it," Magnussen told John as Sherlock's gaze was lowered and his expression suggested that he was fully aware of just how badly he had miscalculated.

"You can print anything John and people will believe it as long as there is an ounce of truth to it. Remember Kitty Riley? Her story discredited us and made us out as frauds and everyone believed it. You ran that story in your paper Magnussen. Which is where I assume you first got your interest in us. The news has always been corrupted," Lexi remarked as she narrowed her eyes at Magnussen and Sherlock held her tightly to his side.

"Speaking of news…" Magnussen said as he stood up and buttoned his jacket. "You three will be heavily featured tomorrow – trying to sell state secrets to me," Magnussen told them as he tutted disapprovingly, then looked at his watch again. "Let's go outside. They'll be here shortly," Magnussen told them and he walked out of the room, passing by them, and headed towards the glass doors. "Can't wait to see you arrested," Magnussen said with a smile as he looked back at them.

"Oh, it won't be the first time. I sort of like the handcuffs by now. Only problem is they never seem to make ones I can't get out of," Lexi told Magnussen with a bright smile before she shrugged and he continued on. John watched him go as Lexi's smile fell and then he stepped closer to his friends.

"Sherlock, Lexi, do we have a plan?" John asked them quietly and Lexi fixed him with a firm looked as Sherlock remained fixed in place, still looking down towards the floor of the white room, his gaze unfocused. "Sherlock, Lexi," John said sternly and Lexi shook her head as Sherlock still didn't move.

"Not this time John. I know, we've always had a plan, some way to get out of it, even with Moriarty, but not this time," Lexi told John and then she looked over at Sherlock and brought her hands up to his cheeks and pressed her forehead to his. He looked up at her and John turned and walked away, giving them a moment. Sherlock shut his eyes, screwing them closed in despair. "Together love. Always together. I might have told John that we don't have a plan but I might have one. It isn't a good idea. Quite honestly it is a terrible idea, but it is the only option we have left," Lexi told Sherlock and he opened his eyes to look at her, knowing instantly what she meant.

"I can't ask that of you," Sherlock told her and she nodded as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she looked up at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I know, which is why you aren't asking. You never have to ask. Not me, not ever. We do this together or not at all," Lexi told him and Sherlock nodded in agreement before Lexi pulled him down for a kissing, sealing their fates.

**John's POV**

Magnussen walked across the sitting room to a glass door which led out onto a patio. He went outside and looked around. The sky was darkening, as it was early evening. John followed him out onto the patio.

"They're taking their time, aren't they? Joanna must be stalling for them," Magnussen asked him as John stopped beside him, not looking at him.

"I still don't understand," John said as he frowned at Magnussen.

"And there's the back of the T-shirt," Magnussen said as he looked up at the sky. Sherlock and Lexi had finally left the study and were walking slowly towards the patio door together, their hands linked firmly together.

"You just know things. How does that work?" John asked him as he turned his head to look at Magnussen. Magnussen turned to face him as Sherlock and Lexi walked out onto the patio and stopped just outside the door together. John noticed that Lexi looked a lot calmer than before. Whatever had just gone on between them had obviously been much needed. Trust Lexi to know exactly what to say in this situation.

"I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it," Magnussen said suddenly and John stared back at him, his eyes wide as Sherlock suddenly grabbed Lexi around the waist as her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Magnussen," Lexi growled dangerously, and the man ignored her as he continued on.

"Bring it over here a minute," Magnussen told him and John glanced over to Sherlock and Lexi. Lexi looked enraged and it looked like Sherlock was frantically whispering in her ear, trying to calm her down as he held her around the middle. She didn't outwardly fight against him, but John could see Sherlock's muscles straining under his coat as he tried to hold her back from jumping on Magnussen. "Come on," Magnussen encouraged him and very reluctantly and without meeting his eyes, Sherlock gave John a short nod, his face full of pain at having to do this. "For Mary. Bring me your face," Magnussen said and John looked back to Magnussen, who nodded slightly. Clearing his throat, John slowly took two steps closer to him, not looking at Lexi as he did so. He knew this hurt her. She protected him and Sherlock with a passion. Sherlock was having to physically restrain her. This wasn't a time she could protect him. They would be lucky if Magnussen was merciful. Magnussen turned a little to face him, then leaned down to him. "Lean forward a bit and stick your face out," Magnussen ordered him and John cleared his throat again, adjusting his footing. "Please?" Magnussen asked, smirking at him and he leaned closer, chuckling. John locked his gaze on him while he did as instructed. "Now, can I flick it?" Magnussen asked him and John snorted in disbelief, lowering his head and shaking it before raising it again. "Can I flick your face?" Magnussen asked him again. Pursing his lips and looking at him again, John leaned forward. Magnussen lifted his right hand with the back towards John, bent his middle finger under his thumb, held his hand close to John's left cheek and then released the middle finger to flick sharply against his cheek. John blinked instinctively and tilted his head at the man, still holding his gaze. Magnussen flicked his cheek again, then chuckled. "I just love doing this even more so because it inspires such a wonderful response in Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said as he looked back at Lexi who was fighting against Sherlock who she would never hurt, even if she was trying to get herself free. Therefore, it was a losing battle and she finally gave up trying to get out of his arms and fell back against his chest, breathing heavily as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, he eyes narrowed to slits and her teeth bared as she looked at Magnussen. "See how much she cares?" Magnussen asked John as he looked at the two detectives, Sherlock's eyes lowered and pain still on his face as he held an enraged Lexi to his chest. "I could do it all day," Magnussen told John and he chuckled again, then turned back to John. "It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed," Magnussen told John as he flicked his cheek again. Sherlock lifted his gaze and was looking at him, his expression grim as Lexi inhaled sharply and then let out a ragged breath. "I know where to find people who hate her," Magnussen continued and he flicked him again, then again. The soldier stared back at him, tolerating it only because he had no choice. "I know where they live; I know their phone numbers," Magnussen said before he flicked him twice more. "All in my Mind Palace – all of it," Magnussen said as Sherlock and Lexi's gaze towards Magnussen became more intense. "I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down – and I will ...," Magnussen promised him, Sherlock's lips lifted slightly from his teeth as he and Lexi watched. "...unless you let me flick your face," Magnussen finished and then he flicked him three times. Sherlock continued to glare at him with his teeth bared as Lexi started swearing under her breath in multiple languages, cursing him and his mother several times over. "This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries ...," Magnussen told the soldier as he flicked him again, then straightened up. "...just because I know. And Joanna does far worse than me, naughty girl," Magnussen said with a smirk before he bent back down to John. "Can I do your eye now?" He asked and John turned his head a little, looking away. This was humiliating and he didn't have a choice. "See if you can keep it open, hmm?" Magnussen told him and almost before John turned back to him, Magnussen flicked John's left eyebrow. John's eyes instinctively flinched closed and Magnussen sniggered and flicked his eyebrow again. "Come on. For Mary. Keep it open," Magnussen told him as he bent his finger under his thumb again.

"Magnussen!" Lexi spat again, he voice carrying across the space, the full extent of her anger coming through in her voice.

"Oh look that seems to have hit a cord with Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said gleefully as he smirked at an enraged Lexi, her hair falling around her face wildly and he eyes burning in anger.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked his friends, hoping that they would say no. He knew that if Lexi could have she already would have though.

"Let him. I'm sorry," Sherlock told John quietly, his voice apologetic. Magnussen looked round to him and Lexi for a moment. "Just ... let him," Sherlock said grimly and Lexi smacked Sherlock's arm roughly.

"Sherlock!" She said as she looked up at him in shock.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Sherlock told her before he kissed her head and Lexi slumped in his arms in defeated as John grimaced slightly.

"Come on. Eye open," Magnussen said as he turned back to John. With a bemused look on his face, he flicked John's eyebrow again, and again John's eyes flinched closed for a moment before he glared back at the man as he sniggered and flicked him again. He laughed as John breathed harshly. "It's difficult, isn't it?" Magnussen asked him cheerfully as he straightened up again. "Janine managed it once," Magnussen said as he looked towards Sherlock and Lexi. "She makes the funniest noises," Magnussen smirked as Lexi managed to get free of Sherlock finally as he didn't want to hurt her when she finally broke loose and she stormed forward toward him and John.

"You utter bastard!" Lexi spat as Magnussen turned round, smiling at her.

"Thank you," Magnussen told her. "Why don't we have a deal? I'll stop flicking the solider's face if I get to flick yours. Just once. Let's see if you can keep your eye open," Magnussen told a fuming Lexi.

"No Lexi don't," John protested, not wanting Lexi to demean herself that way but she cut him off before he could finish.

"Deal," She told Magnussen who smirked at her as Lexi rolled her shoulders and looked up before staring right at Magnussen, her mouth drawn into a hard line as she left her eyes opened wide. Sherlock looked like he wanted to stop what was about to happen but he couldn't. John grimaced and looked at Lexi over Magnussen's shoulder as she stared past him and right into his eyes. She nodded slightly as Magnussen brought his fingers up, looking gleeful and then flicked her right in the eye. John's mouth fell open slightly in shock when she didn't even flinch. He was then even more shocked when in one fluid motion she reached up, knocked Magnussen's glasses askew and flicked him right back in the eye. He cried out in pain as she got him right in the eyeball and he clutched his eye as Lexi leaned in closer to him, narrowing her own eyes.

"I have endured pain you wouldn't even fathom Charles Augustus Magnussen," Lexi growled, pronouncing his name in a perfect Danish accent near the end as Magnussen glared at her, fixing his glasses, his right eye closed against the pain he was no doubt still experiencing. "It's not just physical pain. Concentration is key to overcoming anything. That's your problem. You lack focus," Lexi spat at him before she turned on her heel and walked back over to Sherlock. He quickly drew her into his side and kissed the top of her head as she let out a long breath. Sherlock held her against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head as he tried to get her to calm down and think rationally. John had never seen her so angry before. He was certain if she could do worse to Magnussen she would. Any retort the man would have made was interrupted by the sound of an approaching helicopter. It soared over the roof and at the same time, armed police marksmen ran towards the patio. The helicopter dropped down to hover some yards away, its spotlight aimed towards the four of them on the patio. As they were buffeted by the wind from the rotors, Mycroft's voice blared out over a speaker on the helicopter.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson," Mycroft's voice said over the loudspeaker and John looked up and saw him sitting in the helicopter wearing a headset and microphone. Sitting beside him in the co-pilot seat was Joanna wearing a similar headset and from here her expression looked grim. "Stand away from that man," Mycroft ordered before Joanna spoke up when she saw Lexi waver slightly.

"Stand down that is an order," Joanna said through the loudspeaker, her voice coming out in an authoritative manner which almost reminded John of his army days. Joanna could have put some of his commanding officers to shame. Sherlock and Lexi looked away from the helicopter as Magnussen looked over towards them.

"Here we go, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes!" Magnussen told the two detectives gleefully.

"To clarify: Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there," Sherlock said loudly, over the noise of the hovering helicopter, as he and Lexi stepped forward, falling into step beside each other, holding each other's hands tightly as they walked over to John's side.

"Nothing is on paper? Nothing is written down?" Lexi asked Magnussen, shouting over the noise of the rotating blades just to be heard.

"They're not real. They never have been," Magnussen answered her as he looked towards the helicopter hovering overhead and Sherlock and Lexi nodded, sharing a look with each other before they both looked down.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson. Step away," Mycroft ordered over the speaker and John saw Joanna reach up and press on her headset.

"Sherlock, Lexi, John! Back down now!" Joanna ordered them as Magnussen walked forward a couple of steps, waving his hands calmly at the helicopter.

"It's fine! They're harmless!" Magnussen called up loudly as the armed police continued moving into position, aiming their rifles towards the patio. Harmless was the last word John would ever use to describe Lexi and Sherlock. He had seen some of the things Lexi had done in the past. He could still remember an image of her bending over backwards with only a broom in hand as she cut off the downward thrust of a Chinese warrior's sword.

"Targets are not armed. I repeat, targets are not armed," One of the police officers said over the radio and Lexi sighed slightly, closing her eyes a bit and looking down as John looked round at his friend.

"Sherlock, Lexi, what do we do?" John asked them, knowing that this is when they generally had a plan. He turned to look at the helicopter again. They had to have a plan. It couldn't end like this could it?

"John…," Lexi said as she slowly raised her head and met the army doctor's eyes.

"Nothing!" Magnussen said as he looked round at them and Lexi's eyes opened fully as she stood up right with her shoulders back. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them!" Magnussen said and Lexi nodded before she gave John a very pointed look that he could never miss and he would never in his life forget.

"…Vatican Cameos," Lexi said, finishing her sentence and John knew that she had a plan and something major was about to happen. John looked back up at the helicopter as Sherlock turned his head and looked at John his gaze penetrating and intense before he and Lexi shared a long look. For a moment John caught them nod at each other as if agreeing to something before Sherlock raised Lexi's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. She smiled at him fondly for a moment before that slipped away to be replaced with a look of fierce determination.

"Sorry. No chance for you to be heroes this time, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen told Sherlock and Lexi as Sherlock looked away from John, lowering his gaze but still with a determined look on it as Magnussen turns away from them. Lexi looked down as well her eyes closing and her eyelids fluttering rapidly again as she calculated something.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson, stand away from that man. Do it now," Mycroft ordered them more firmly and John saw Joanna's eyes widen with some realization as Lexi's eyes snapped open and she looked up at Magnussen.

"Alexandria Holmes don't you dare!" Joanna threatened but Lexi ignored her as Sherlock looked up, standing with Lexi.

"Oh, do your research," Sherlock told Magnussen loudly as he and Lexi stepped closer to John. Sherlock reached round behind the army doctor and into John's coat pocket, then stepped away again as Lexi reached into her own inner jacket pocket, the two detectives walking forward towards Magnussen in unison.

"We're not heroes ...," Lexi told Magnussen, shaking her head ruefully as Magnussen turned to look at them and Lexi shrugged nonchalantly and made a small face.

"We're high-functioning sociopaths," Sherlock corrected Magnussen and the two detectives widened their eyes as they glared at the man.

"Merry Christmas!" The said in unison before Sherlock raised John's pistol and Lexi pulled hers from where she was hiding it under her jacket and quickly turning back to back, they aimed the pistols at Magnussen's head and fired in unison. As John recoiled and even before Magnussen hit the ground, Sherlock and Lexi dropped their guns to the patio and turned towards the helicopter together, raising their hands.

"Man down, man down," The police officer shouted over the radio.

"Get away from us, John!" Sherlock order a stunned John loudly as he turned to look at him. "Stay well back!"

"John. Go! Just get back please!" Lexi told John as she half turned to him, her arms raised over her head as John saw Joanna rip her headset off and turn them both of as she started shouting something frantically to Mycroft. He couldn't hear what was going on by Joanna gestured to Lexi whose expression was grim and Mycroft looked shocked by whatever she told him. From the way Joanna was acting you would think….

"Christ, Sherlock, Lexi!" John said desperately as he raised his own hands and Mycroft suddenly came back on over the speakers.

"Stand fire!" Mycroft ordered frantically in his microphone as Joanna put her headset back on.

"Repeat that is an order. Stand fire!" Joanna shouted as the police marksmen ran towards the patio, aiming their rifles at Sherlock and Lexi as they faced them.

"Do not fire on Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes! Do not fire!" Mycroft shouted loudly as the marksmen took up positions, aiming their laser sights towards Sherlock and Lexi.

"That is an order. Do not fire on Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes!" Joanna repeated frantically.

"Oh, Christ, Sherlock, Lexi," John said, his voice filled with despair. Keeping their hands raised, Sherlock and Lexi looked round to him again. Lexi had a few tears in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Give our love to Mary," Sherlock told John and John stares at them, his face full of anguish. "Tell her she's safe now," Sherlock told John as Lexi nodded, one single tear slipping down her face.

"And you… John Watson, you. Don't… you… ever… forget how much the both of us love you," Lexi told John tearfully and both she and Sherlock took one final look at their best friend and then turned towards the marksmen and the helicopter and began to sink slowly to their knees. John held his own hands high, his eyes full of despair and his breath catching in his throat. Sherlock and Lexi knelt side by side on the patio, their hands raised and their faces anguished. The beams from the laser sights travelled over their faces as they stared ahead of themselves, knowing that they had done something from which no-one could save them this time, not Mycroft, not even Joanna.

**Third Person POV**

In the helicopter, Mycroft and Joanna took off their headsets and stared in equal despair towards Sherlock and Lexi, holding hands in the centre of the console after they set the helicopter to hover, Joanna holding her other hand over her expanding abdomen. She rubbed her swollen stomach, the baby having been kicking her steadily as if sensing her parent's despair and anguish.

"Oh, Sherlock, Lexi. What have you done?" Mycroft asked softly in anguish before he turned to Joanna as a few tears slipped down her face. "Please tell me you are wrong," He said and Joanna shook her head.

"I'm not. I'm sorry," Joanna told him sadly and Mycroft couldn't see the adult Sherlock and Lexi on the patio. Instead, it was as if his little eleven year old brother was standing there, his face full of terror as he stared upwards, his hands raised, his curly hair buffeted by the wind from the helicopter's rotor blades, and tears pouring down his face as he stood next to a nine year old Lexi, her red hair blowing in the wind, her face tear streaked. The young boy lowered his head, weeping before he turned to his wife, the two of them clinging to each other. "My," Joanna said using the endearing term she only ever used for him and Mycroft looked over at her as she held her stomach. Mycroft placed a hand over the one that was holding their baby and his fingers spread out between hers. "If there was anything I could do I would. You know I would, especially now. Especially knowing what we know. But I don't think there is anything we can do, that I can do. I love you My, but marrying you took away a lot of the power I used to have," Joanna told him as Sherlock and Lexi were placed in handcuffs and hauled to their feet.

"We'll figure it out mon amore," Mycroft told her, brushing away her tears with the pads of her thumb, drawing in a deep breath and nodding. He would figure something out, they would figure something out. For Sherlock and Lexi's sake they would find a way. For now he needed to be strong. Joanna needed him and his brother and sister in law needed him. "Together," Mycroft promised Joanna and she nodded at him, taking a deep breath and calming herself.

"Together. Always," Joanna promised him before she leaned across the small space and Mycroft pulled her into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Oh Sherlock, Lexi, what had they done? What were they thinking?

**Joanna's POV**

Mycroft and I had been unable to do anything for Sherlock and Lexi until the next morning. Since very early we had been entered into a heated debate with various members of parliament. We had both been to see Sherlock and Lexi who were being kept in a holding cell for the time being. Of course they were being treated roughly as most people thought they were terrorist. They were however hanging in there as they had each other. Though I was livid at Lexi for what she had done, for the stupidity of it, I knew that she would have never let Sherlock shoot Magnussen alone. Now however Mycroft and I were faced with the hardship of trying to save them from their fate. So far, the negotiations were going southwards for us and that was entirely my fault. Mycroft never blamed me for it and I loved him dearly for it. I don't think he ever could deduce just how much I actually love him, but he was the first person who didn't make me feel like a freak. He made me feel beautiful and wanted and loved. But our problems now were my fault even if he would not hold me to that.

The governments of the world hated me. This I knew but they listened to me out of fear of what I could possibly do to them. Mycroft hated me at first too or at least I thought he did but he was the first person to actually want to get to know me and we became friends and from friends to lovers. I was scared getting into a relationship with him to be sure, not because of what I thought others might think but because I had never been in a relationship myself and finding out that neither had he had put me at ease. The problem was when it came out we were married. People lost their respect for Mycroft first. We noticed that it was harder for people to listen to him. He had to fight harder to be heard or else he was overlooked. We came home many nights frustrated and then they stopped listening to me. Then the looks came and the whispers. The general consensus was that Mycroft had only bedded and wedded me to tame me. Of course anyone who had met Mycroft before never thought he could love someone and as for me they thought I was a heartless bitch. When I started showing signs of being pregnant, we lost any power we used to have entirely. It showed that not only were we married but we had relationships of a sexual nature before marriage. Some questioned whether or not Mycroft abused this relationship to get my help. They thought he had married me only so that he could advance himself. And thus right now, showing that I was six months pregnant while we pleaded for Sherlock and Lexi's lives was not helping our case.

I had my hair down this morning but held back by a few elegant clips, my maternity work clothes on which I had thrown on quickly. Neither of us had slept last night. We had spent the entire night trying to figure out a plan to help Sherlock and Lexi and then Mycroft had taken care of me. He had been worried that the drug they had given us might have some after affects that might hurt the baby but I assured him that Sherlock and Lexi would never do something that would knowingly hurt our little angel. He was going to make such a good father already. He was so protective of Sherlock and Lexi and so was I. I used to be scared of becoming a mother and while I knew Mycroft was still terrified I wasn't anymore because I knew we could do this together. Maybe marrying Mycroft had tamed me a little. Becoming a mother and a wife had made more conscious of my behaviours before. I still was a bit reckless and I still had attitude, but I was also more caring and loving, emotions I had long since forgotten how to feel. Mycroft was the same way. We rescued each other from ourselves. He asked me once if I had any regrets about being with him and I told him no. I was married to my best friend and we could have our happy ending too, sometimes reality could be your fairytale. Mycroft was standing at the glass wall of the large meeting room we were in. He had his back to the room and was looking outside. A suited man stood nearby to his right. I was sitting just behind him as my feet were tired today. In fact I was just tired today and the little munchkin was kicking up a storm still. I rubbed my hand over the spot where our little girl was kicking and I saw Mycroft's eyes soften a bit as he caught my movement in the reflection of the glass.

"As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs a blunt instrument. Equally, it sometimes needs a dagger – a scalpel wielded with precision and without remorse," Mycroft said as he looked over to his left, trying once again to convince the members of parliament to what we had been arguing on for the past two hours. "There will always come a time when we need Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes," Mycroft finished and several men sitting at the tables in the room looked back at him silently. They shot scathing looks at me which I ignored for the fifth time this session. I was seated near Lady Smallwood, the only person in this room who I was still on good terms with. The men could all kiss my arse. It was the man standing near Mycroft that spoke next, Sir Edwin.

"If this is some expression of familial sentiment ...," Sir Edwin began and Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed, turning to him as I growled slightly under my breath. I was tired of these games.

"Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion," Mycroft told Sir Edwin and I snorted, fixing my husband with a look as he looked down for a moment. He caught my eye and I raised my eyebrow at him. He would always be a big brother no matter how many times Sherlock got into trouble or annoyed him. He turned to Sir Edwin again, breaking our eye contact. "You know what happened to the other one," Mycroft said and I grimaced ad Sir Edwin looked away from him, doing the same. Mycroft turned to look out the window again while I decided it was time for me to speak up. To hell with them not wanting to hear from me.

"This is not a matter of familial sentiment," I began and all eyes turned to me. Sir Edwin turned around but Mycroft continued to stare out the window, only watching my reflection in the glass. He gave me a cautious look and I nodded at him slightly to let him know it was alright. "Yes, Sherlock is Mycroft's brother and Lexi is his sister in law the same way Sherlock is my brother in law and Lexi my sister in law. But this is not about them being family. We did not come here today to try and convince you to pardon them. We know what it is that they have done. We know that they must answer for this, but not in the way you would currently have it," I argued with the room, finding my voice just as easily as I had before. Some people were terrified of speaking in front of others but I never was. I spoke my mind and I did it plainly. If you didn't like what I said you could fuck off.

"There is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock and Alexandria without causing a riot on a daily basis," Mycroft told the room at large, adding to my claims and I looked over at my husband with a soft look. We promised to do this together and we were.

"Every prison is filled with murders, psychopaths, and terrorist that Sherlock and Alexandria have put there," I told the room as I looked away from my husband. I hated having to use Lexi's formal name but in this situation it was required. "If we incarcerate them not only will be their riots but there will be plots to kill the both of them before the week is out. We must afford them a level of security. Not only that, but I trained Alexandria myself," I told the room and the men all looked at me with mixed expressions of anger and surprise at being reminded to the fact that I was an intelligence agent, not a British member of parliament and yet I had some power left in their government. "There is no prison that could ever hold me and thus none that could ever hold Alexandria. Incarcerate them and I promise you they will both be out of their cell in under three hours, especially if you separate them, then I give it an hour and a half," I told the room, knowing that Lexi would fight even harder to escape if she was separated from Sherlock.

"The alternative," Mycroft said as he looked left towards where Lady Smallwood was sitting at a table. "...would require your approval," Mycroft told the members of parliament.

"Hardly merciful, Mr. Holmes," Lady Smallwood scoffed and I narrowed my eyes. Yes, it was hardly a good plan. Quite frankly it was terrible but I believed in Sherlock and Lexi and I knew that even under these circumstances they could find a way out of them. Besides we had a better hope of them possibly surviving than if they were incarcerated. Everyone thought they were terrorists, even the guards would be willing to kill them for the right price some just out of loyalty to the crown. Some guards used to be in the RAF.

"Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my brother and his wife are murderers," Mycroft told Lady Smallwood before he turned away and looked out of the window again. Oh but they had killed more than just Magnussen, this was just the only public murder that could be linked to them.

"With all due respect Mr. Holmes, Miss Reyer," Lady Smallwood said and I snapped my head around to her.

"It's Mrs. Holmes," I corrected her icily as I narrowed my eyes at her and Mycroft turned around as soon as he heard my tone of voice. Several members of parliament shifted in their seats uncomfortably as many shot looks between Mycroft and I.

"Mrs. Holmes…," Lady Smallwood corrected herself with a slight nod and I lifted my head up as Mycroft walked closer over to me, sensing that I was getting angry. Peanut was kicking a bit more now too and I rubbed the spot a bit more, trying to sooth her. I took a deep calming breath hoping that maybe if I calmed down it would calm her down. The doctor said that if I was too stressed it stressed out the baby. "We cannot agree to this proposal simply because of your concerns. If they were anyone else this is what we would do. We will not make exceptions because they are your family or because they are celebrities. We are the government, we do not haggle," Lady Smallwood said and I finally broke. I chuckled, the sound filling the room and Mycroft froze and tensed instantly as everyone's eyes turned to me. "I'm sorry Mrs. Holmes did I say something funny?" Lady Smallwood asked me and I nodded and her, still laughing a bit before I pushed back in my chair and stood up to my full height which, while not much, could still be pretty imposing when I wanted it to be. I shot Mycroft a look that he better not stop me and he just smirked ever so slightly, knowing what I was going to do before I even opened my mouth to speak. He moved out of my way as I walked to the head of the room and turned to face all of parliament.

"Exceeding funny Lady Smallwood," I told the woman with a bit of bite to my words as I rolled back my shoulders. I might waddled when I walked, I might look like I swallowed a watermelon, but I couldn't remember when that changed anything. "I seem to remember that it was you that hired Sherlock and Lexi to retrieve some letters of a scandalous nature from Magnussen," I started and Lady Smallwood paled and spluttered as everyone turned to look at her. Her husband had killed himself recently when the news had broken. "You see you put them in Magnussen sights. The man was obsessive about them. You might recall about three years ago the trail of James Moriarty. He was another man obsessive about Sherlock and Lexi and it led to their faked deaths," I said before I looked out at all the members of parliament, my eyes narrowed and I shook my head before smiling ruefully and chuckling again. "I don't seem to be able to recall when it is that you lot decided that you could stop listening to me. Last time I checked, I could still topple your entire government with a few lines of computer code. I could tear you down in an instant and there is nothing you can do. You can't touch me and you can't imprison me because I could just walk right out of there. I've done it before," I threatened and Sir Edwin spoke up like I knew he was dying too.

"But you wouldn't now would you?" He asked me and I turned to him, raising my eyebrow.

"Do you want to bet?" I asked him and he gestured to Mycroft.

"You married Mycroft Holmes, you won't do a thing. In fact you're carrying his child. We all know what you did. What was it? What was the deal you two made" Sir Edwin asked as he looked at Mycroft, directing the conversation to him. "Fuck the little whore and marry her and she would make sure you got advanced to the highest position? Not like you didn't already have more power than anyone else. Maybe we're just tired of listening to you two," Sir Edwin said before he found himself slammed onto the table by a pregnant woman, his hand pulled behind his back. He let out a cry of pain as I manhandled him. Mycroft was at my side, his face red with rage and his expression livid. He looked like he very much wanted to hurt Sir Edwin and several members of parliament were on their feet, looking to come to his aid. I looked at them and laughed breathlessly.

"Don't even fucking think about it," I said and I grinned to myself for a moment as I realized that the old me was coming back. Oh she had never left, but she had been toned down a lot. Apparently she came out when Mycroft or my baby were threatened. Momma bears were a force you didn't want to mess with. I twisted Sir Edwin's arm once more for good measure before letting him go. "So that's what you all think?" I asked the room as I stared pacing in front of them and I looked over at Mycroft and grinned at him mischievously. "Well I have to admit he was a good shag," I said and Mycroft smirked instead of blushing or spluttering. "No you see, what happened if all of your little brains can possibly comprehend it, is two people fell in love. I know it's such a tremendously complicated concept," I said as I walked over to Mycroft and slipped and arm around his waist and he did the same to me. "There was never an agreement or a ploy for power. And guess what. Just because he is the British Government and just because I am married to him, I won't stop at destroying you bit by little bit if I so choose. The way our relationship has always worked is personal life is separated from our life at work. So don't think for one second that marriage has tamed me," I said as I pulled away from Mycroft's side. "In fact, I rather think it's made me far worse. If you think women are bad in general, try mothers. So…," I said as I took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm going over all of your heads," I told the members of parliament who looked at me in rage. "Because last time I checked I have that power. Sherlock and Lexi are going into the MI6 program and as for all of you…," I said as I looked round at Mycroft. "If I have so much as one problem from any of you again you can find out just why the governments of Spain, France, Russia, and China, are still frightened of me," I warned all of them as they all looked back at me and I took a deep breath and nodded once, glad that I had taken control once more. I didn't seen any issues over who had power in the government coming up again in the future. "Honey," I said and I smiled back at Mycroft and offered him my hand. He took it and wordlessly we left the room. As soon as we were alone together in the car he brought me closely to him and kissed me passionately.

"That was incredible," He told me as we broke apart and I grinned up at him as I caressed his face. "You always look so beautiful when you…," Mycroft said before I chuckled and cut him off with another deep kiss.

"When I tell the government to fuck off?" I finished for him as we broke apart again and Mycroft chuckled lightly beside my ear as he nuzzled my neck. I sighed in contentment before I cuddled myself into his side. He placed his hands over my stomach and kissed the top of my head.

"How are you?" He asked me and I knew he meant how was the kicking.

"She settled down once I started telling them off. I think she is going to be a force to reckon with if she has our attitudes," I laughed and Mycroft kissed my cheeks as I nuzzled my face into his chest, breathing in his scent. Under his hand, our little angel kicked. "And once again she makes her presence known," I told Mycroft and he chuckled lightly.

"Everything is going to be alright," Mycroft assured me as we settled back down together, the three of us safe and together.

"I know amante," I sighed before I looked up at him and kissed him lightly, this kiss tender and sweet. "I know," I told him before I settled back down on his chest.

**Lexi's POV**

A black car drove along the runway towards where an executive jet was stationary on the tarmac. Standing near the nose of the plane, Sherlock, Mycroft, Joanna, and I along with a security man watched the car pull up. Sherlock and I had spent two days in a holding cell together as we waited to find out our fate. Mycroft and Joanna informed us that they had gotten us into the MI6 project they had originally had us decline. It was all they could do. We could not be pardoned and for once there was no getting out of this and we knew it. We would go together though. We would always do things together because that was the promise I made to him, one of my last vows. The four of us had already said our goodbyes earlier. Joanna was far more emotional but then we expected that. We had come up with a lie to tell Sherlock's parents. We told them we were going traveling and Joanna and Mycroft would cover up the news that we were the ones that killed Magnussen. It was better for them to not know the truth. Now we just had two more people to say goodbye to. Sherlock held me closely to him, Mycroft doing the same with Joanna, as we stood waiting as Mary got out of the rear door nearest the plane and John got out from the other side. Smiling, Mary walked towards Sherlock and me, John following behind her looing slightly distant. We were saying goodbye to him all over again and it was breaking my heart. Only this goodbye was more final.

"You will look after him for us, won't you?" Sherlock asked Mary as I smiled at my best friend and sister fondly. Despite everything Mary would always be a sister to me and I would always love her. Besides, she was not Mary Morstan she was Mary Watson and a Watson would always be my family.

"Oh ...," Mary said as she stepped In between us and put her hands on each of our shoulders before we kissed her on opposite cheeks and she kissed us in return before hugging us both. "...don't worry. I'll keep him in trouble," She assured us and I laughed brightly as Sherlock smiled at her as she released us and pulled back.

"That's our girl," Sherlock told her as I gestured down to Mary's very large stomach. Baby Watson would be making an appearance very soon now.

"He'll have you to take care of and a baby is more than enough danger for him. Besides if they're anything like the both of you they're going to be a handful," I told Mary and she laughed brightly, giving me one more one armed hug as Sherlock and I refused to let each other go before she turned and walked back to where John had stopped a few paces away, and took his hand. John nodded to Sherlock and me in greeting and I smiled at the army doctor ruefully and waved my fingers at him playfully, earning a slight smile despite the situation. Sherlock turned to his Mycroft and Joanna who were watching us stoically.

"Since this is likely to be the last conversation we'll have with John Watson ...," Sherlock began and John sighed painfully. The three of us all knew that this was the end. The end of the Baker Street Irregulars, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys. "...would you mind if we took a moment?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who looked a little startled. Joanna looked up at Mycroft before nodding and Mycroft glanced over to the security man and jerked his head towards the side of the plane. The security man, Mycroft, Joanna, and Mary walked along the side of the jet towards the wing, Joanna and Mary waddling more than walking, and Sherlock and I turned to John, who smiled at us and nodded.

"So, here we are," John started looking vaguely around the airfield and clearing his throat before he stepped closer to us.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes," Sherlock said suddenly, breaking the awkward tension and I giggled as I looked up at him, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Sorry?" John asked him, frowning in confusion as I watched my boys for the last time.

"That's the whole of it – if you're looking for baby names," Sherlock told John who chuckled and I shook my head at my boys fondly.

"No, we've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl," John told us and I grinned, looking back at Mary. Well, little Baby Watson and Cosette would be the best of friends. Holmes and Watson' children would have to be after all and I already made Joanna and Mycroft promise they wouldn't abandon John.

"Oh," Sherlock said softly before he smiled. "Okay," He said before they both looked awkwardly anywhere except at each other for several seconds. I was reminded of when I had first met John and I had watched the most painful silence between him and Mike. I smiled mischievously before I slipped out of Sherlock's arms and stood beside my boys, my hands linked behind my back, rocking backward on my heels in the same gesture I had done as when I had first met John. He noticed it and looked over at me as did Sherlock.

"Well if that is the case, it's Alexandria Amelia Elspeth Holmes. Alexandria and Elspeth are a bit old fashioned but Amelia is nice or just Amy," I told John as I grinned at him. "I wouldn't be against you naming her Lexi either," I told John and he chuckled brightly. John had once offered us up baby names, we were just repaying the favour.

"Yeah," John agreed vaguely as he turned and looked across the airfield before he finally turned towards Sherlock and me again. "Actually, I can't think of a single thing to say," John told us honestly and I nodded at him in understanding.

"No, neither can I," Sherlock agreed as he looked down and I reached forward and took each of their hands in one of my own and they turned and looked at me.

"Well I can," I told them as I smiled up at them brightly. "My boys," I said as I looked at the both of them before I threw myself at them and hugged them tightly, the both of them hugging me back just as tightly. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about the first day we met," I told them as we pulled back to look at each other and I raised my hand to both of their cheeks. "John Watson," I said as I gazed at our army doctor, taking in his kind cornflower blue eyes that looked a bit older than when we had met. We had been through so much the three of us. "I made it my secret mission that day to rescue you from yourself. You seemed so at odds with the world," I told him and he looked up at me as I sighed. "And you," I said as I looked at Sherlock and smiled at him fondly as he watched me with a soft expression. "You were in need in of a friend," I told him and he nodded at me. "A Study in Pink," I told them with a chuckle. "Anderson and Donovan's faces when we walked into the crime scene together, the drug's bust, meeting Mycroft, you saving our lives," I told John before I laughed bright. "Then I saved your arses next with the Blind Banker. Van Coon and Dimmock. Interesting case all around. Glad you met Mary because I still hate Sarah," I told John and he sighed and rolled his eyes as Sherlock chuckled. "And Moriarty. We kicked his arse not once but twice but that was after the Woman and then Hound. We've done a pretty good job the three of us. My Baker Street Boys," I told them as John looked at me gruffly.

"The game is over," John said quietly and I shook my head as Sherlock and I met his eyes.

"Never," I told John as I slid back into Sherlock's arms and John took a step away from us.

"The game is never over, John ...," Sherlock told our army doctor firmly before his tone became quieter. "...but there may be some new players now. It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end," Sherlock told him before he bent down and pressed a kiss to my hair which was blowing lightly in the breeze around the airfield.

"What's that?" John asked Sherlock curiously as I sighed.

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids," Sherlock told John and I chuckled a bit at that and Sherlock and John looked over at me.

"Mycroft told that story to me too, only I was in the hospital after getting run over by a cab and I was not exactly a child," I told the boys and Sherlock chuckled a bit before sobering, remembering the only instance when I had gotten taken out by one of London's cabbies.

"The East Wind – this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path," Sherlock explained to John, sniffing and looking off into the distance as I looked up at him and rubbed my thumb along his jawbone. "It seeks out the unworthy ...," Sherlock said before he met John's eyes. "...and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me," He finished and I hummed in agreement.

"Or me," I added and Sherlock looked down at me, rolling his eyes.

"Nice!" John told us and I nodded, chuckling s bit.

"He was a rubbish big brother," Sherlock told him and they both smiled.

"And a rubbish substitute sometimes," I added and the three of us smiled for a moment longer before John looked down, clearing his throat.

"So what about you two, then?" John asked us, asking us the inevitable question and I looked down before looking back up at him as he lifted his head and I kept my expression neutral. "Where are you two actually going now?" John asked us and I looked up at Sherlock. We had already discussed this and we had agreed that John was never to know. We would not do that to him for a second time.

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe," Sherlock told him in a bored tone, playing it off.

"Nice break for us actually. Like old times. Boring stuff really. Might work on my tan a bit," I told John with a tight laugh which he didn't even pick up on and Sherlock held me closer to him, rubbing calming circles onto my hip.

"For how long?" John asked us and I looked up at Sherlock as he looked slightly above John's head so as not to meet his eyes.

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong," Sherlock said and I squeezed his hand which was holding mine before I reached up on tip toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes for a moment before pulling back. I wanted to comfort him but if I did it would only bring suspicion to us.

"And then what?" John pressed and we met his gaze for a moment before Sherlock looked down thoughtfully. I smiled at John slightly, knowing our army doctor only wanted to be assured that wherever we were going we would be happy and safe even if he could never see us again. Sherlock raised his head again and gazed off into the distance before he shrugged.

"Who knows?" Sherlock told John and John nodded at him.

"On to the next adventure," I told John as I looked up at Sherlock and he gazed down at me. "There's always something new…," I told him and Sherlock nodded at me as I brushed a few of his curls back and John nodded again before he turned away to look across the airfield again, breathing in deeply. Sherlock and I looked directly at him until he turned back and then Sherlock looked down again.

"John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now," Sherlock said suddenly and he hesitated for a long time, clutching my hand tightly as he fought to get it out. I nodded at him encouragingly and after a second he shook his head, letting me know that he just couldn't do it, not now and I nodded at him in understanding, holding him closer to me and he drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to John's who was watching him expectantly. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name," Sherlock said, and I giggled at what he had come up with telling him at the last minute instead of the confession he meant to tell him. John turned away, giggling almost silently and Sherlock smiled at him. John turned back to us still smiling.

"It's not," John told him, giving him a pointed look and Sherlock shrugged, holding me closer to him as I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles.

"It was worth a try," Sherlock told him as I shook my head. Sherlock had wanted to tell him how much John meant to him but he couldn't do it. Expressing his feelings had never been easy for him and I knew that.

"We're not naming our daughter after you," John told Sherlock as he looked over at me with a bemused expression on his face.

"I think it could work," Sherlock told John and the army doctor chuckled.

"I think Lexi works better mate," John argued and I grinned brightly and giggled before the three of us sobered and meet each other's eyes. Sherlock and I held John's gaze for a second, then lowered our eyes. I lifted mine again and sighed as I smiled sadly at John.

"John, there's too much I could say but there are no words to express the way I feel properly," I told the army doctor as I shook my head at him sadly. "I am proud to call you a friend and a brother. John Watson," I said and I sighed again as John sniffled a bit and looked away from us. "John…we're not going to be around anymore but Mary is going to need you and so is your daughter. So…," I said as I reached out and touched his arm. "Make us proud, like you always do," I told John as I nodded at him and Sherlock took off his right glove and held out his hand to John.

"To the very best of times, John," He told him and I smiled at my boys.

"And to all the days that never were," I added and John hesitated for a long while, then he finally took Sherlock's hand and shook it. They stood there for a couple of seconds, then Sherlock gave John's hand one more small pump before releasing it. John and I closed the distance between us and I hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek before I drew back, proud of myself for not crying and Sherlock and I turned away from our army doctor, Sherlock putting his glove back on before we joined hands and walked away from him.

John watched us leave as we walked along the side of the plane. I nodded over to Joanna, Mycroft, and Mary as we walked to the steps of the plane and the boarded it. It was only once I was sitting beside Sherlock, nestled into his side, my head tucked under his chin and his arms holding me tightly to his chest that I let the first few tears slip free. Shortly afterward the plane taxied along the runway. Sherlock and I sat inside looking out of one of the right-hand windows getting our last look at our beautiful England. I had finally stopped crying and I was letting Sherlock play with my hair as I sat with him. He was humming quietly as I closed my eyes, breathing in time with him, my heart beating steadily in my chest. Mary and John stood by the car, holding hands and watching from the left-hand side of the plane as it lifted into the sky. Sherlock and I continued to gaze out of the window, and the plane flew off into the distance. I turned my head up and kissed Sherlock lightly and he returned the gesture. Together…the East Wind had taken us. Plucking the unworthy from the Earth, but in the end I kept my promise. Six months…it wasn't long…but…I would take anytime I had left with Sherlock because each day with him was eternity.

**Third Person POV**

In the Auld Dubliner in Central London a football match on the SPORTS 1 channel played on one of the tellies. The score showed SFC 0 – 0 INTER. Men's voices could be heard shouting encouragingly around the pub as the commentary played over the footage.

"Smith brings it inside. This looks good," The commentator said as the screen fritzed briefly. "Cassandra comes in for a shot ...," The commentator continued while on the TV, a player volleyed the ball towards the goal but it flew over the top. In the pub, the customers groaned, including the owners sons who were watching the match instead of working. "Oh, he missed it!" The commentator said. One of the customers was Greg Lestrade, who was standing at the bar, having a drink as he tried to forget everything that was currently going on, Sherlock and Lexi being exiled from London after murdering Magnussen. He grimaced at the horrible play. The TV fritzed again and one of the male customers called out to the landlord, Ferguson.

"Oi! What's up with the telly? There's something wrong with the telly, mate!" The customer called out as the TV fritzed even more.

"Give it a whack, then!" Another customer shouted and Greg looked up at the screen, which had gone to static, but it slowly began to clear and a shape could just about be seen through all the distortion. It seemed to be a head and shoulders shot of someone facing to the right with their head turned away from the camera. Greg stared up at the TV in confusion and his face filled with shock as the picture became clearer.

"Who's that?" The first customer asked as over the TV a voice began to speak. It was speaking through a device which distorted the voice.

"Did you miss me?" The person asked in a high pitched voice before it shifted to a very deep tone. "Did you miss me?" The person repeated and Greg threw a few bills down on the bar and grabbed his coat before he ran for the door of the pub. As Joanna or Lexi would say combined, bloody fuck.

In 221B, Mrs Hudson was vacuuming the living room. She had the TV switched on and the voice came over the speaker.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked in a high pitched voice before it changed to a deep tone. She looked at the screen before she jumped in shock and started to scream.

At Bart's, Molly stared in horror from the lab into a room next door which had a TV playing on a table.

"Did you miss me?" The person asked in a deep voice.

In the conference room which Joanna and Mycroft Holmes had made such a grand performance only the day before, Lady Smallwood stared up from her seat, looking at a TV screen.

"How is this possible?" Lady Smallwood asked in horror, confusion, and shock.

"We don't know, but it's on every screen in the country – every screen simultaneously," Sir Edwin told her in confusion, his arm in a sling due to Joanna Holme's man handling of him, standing beside her, also looking at the screen.

"Has the Prime Minister been told?" Lady Small wood asked him before she looked round and up to Sir Edwin. "And Mycroft?" She asked him before paling. "Joanna?" She asked him hesitantly.

"But that's not possible," Mycroft said sitting in the back seat of a stationary car and talking into a phone, his hand that was not holding the phone to his ear over Joanna's stomach as the baby kicked his hand exuberantly. Joanna was on her phone texting rapidly, her hair falling down around her face and she looked up at him, nodding in confirmation of the news they had just received. Mycroft opened the door and he got out before helping Joanna from the car. "That is simply not possible," Mycroft said into the phone before he looked across to where John and Mary were holding hands and looking towards them. He frowned at them as Joanna let out a puff of air and grabbed for her stomach, groaning slightly at what was no doubt a massive kick from their daughter.

"Fuck," Joanna swore and Mycroft turned to his wife and frowned at her. "Alright, wasn't quite expecting this," Joanna said as she brought her hands up to her temples and rubbed her head before she slid her hand into his.

"What's happened?" John asked as he released Mary's hand and walked towards him.

"Funny story Watson…," Joanna began as she looked up at her husband and then at the army doctor. "Just how dead do you recall Jim Moriarty being?" Joanna asked John who frowned at her in confusion before Joanna held up her phone to show him what was currently broadcasting around London.

In the executive jet, Sherlock and Lexi were still looking out of the window.

"Sir? Ma'am?" A man asked them and Sherlock and Lexi looked round as a man held a phone out towards them. "It's your brother," The man told Sherlock and Sherlock took the phone and held it to his ear in between himself and Lexi so that they both could hear the conversation.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked in confusion, wondering why his brother was calling them so soon.

"Hello, little brother, sister mine. How is the exile going?" Mycroft asked them calmly and Lexi frowned before smirking lightly as she raised her eyebrow.

"Miss me already Croft? I know I'm adorable but…," Lexi asked as she looked up at Sherlock and he got what she was saying.

"We've only been gone four minutes," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"Well, Joanna and I certainly hope you've learned your lesson," Mycroft told them, now sitting in the back of his car again next to Joanna, and smiling pleasantly.

"As it turns out, you two are needed. Four minutes without you both and the world goes to shit. Which is good news for us because I get to be all scary and pull some strings," Joanna said cheerfully as she looked over at Mycroft and grinned at him.

"Oh, for God's sake. Make up your minds. Who needs us this time?" Sherlock asked his brother and sister in law in exasperation as in Mycroft's car, the distorted voice could be heard.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The person asked, the voice pitched high. Joanna and Mycroft looked to the front of the car where a small TV screen was set into the dashboard. On the screen was a still photograph of Jim Moriarty facing the camera and smiling. To the left of his mouth was the message:

**MISS ME?**

The jaw of Jim's photograph had been animated so that it moved up and down a little as the voice repeated over and over.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It asked in that same high pitched voice.

In Piccadilly Circus in London, the huge screens above the street were each filled with the same part-animated image of Jim's smiling face with the message beside it, and the voice played over the speakers.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked in a high pitched whine. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It repeated over and over in that same high pitch.

In the back of the car, as the voice played on, Mycroft spoke a single word into his phone in response to Sherlock's question.

"England," Mycroft told his brother with a somewhat exasperated sigh in his voice.

"Only England?" Lexi scoffed, raising her eyebrows.

"Well we can throw in Ireland, the Commonwealth, and Scotland too if you like," Joanna told her before she kissed Mycroft's cheek and slipped out of the car, joining Mary and John just as Mary looked over at her husband.

"But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty," Mary said in confusion as Joanna looked up at the cloudy sky which threatened rain at any second.

"Absolutely. He blew his own brains out," John agreed with her and Joanna hummed slightly and the army doctor looked over at her.

"So how can he be back?" Mary asked and then she looked over at Joanna. "Joanna?" She asked as she noticed the other woman's expression.

"That Mary is exactly what I want to know because last time I checked James Moriarty was fucking dead. I made sure of it," Joanna said as she thought back to that day over two years ago when she had helped Lexi and Sherlock fake their deaths.

"Well, if he is ... he'd better wrap up warm," John told both women, turning and looking to his right. Mary and Joanna turned to follow his gaze. "There's an East Wind coming," John told them and he, Mary, and Joanna watched as Sherlock and Lexi's plane came in to land.

**Lexi's POV**

I looked over at Sherlock as soon as we got off the phone with Mycroft and we frowned for a moment before breaking into wide smiles and laughing, flinging ourselves at each other and hugging each other tightly. He kissed my face before pulling me into a deep kiss of joy as we felt the plane change course, turning back around. When we finally pulled apart, breathing slightly heavily Sherlock nuzzled his face into my neck and breathed in deeply.

"Did you?" He asked me curiously and I shook my head quickly. I knew that he was thinking that somehow I had come up with a plan to get us out of our fate but I hadn't. I didn't have the time nor did I know this was even going to happen.

"No," I told him before I shuddered. "How can he be back?" I asked Sherlock before I start to feel the bile raise in my throat. "Sherlock, we saw him die. He shot himself right in the head in front of us!" I said frantically and he pulled me closer to him. "You can't survive that! He can't be alive!" I shouted and Sherlock grabbed my face in his hands.

"I don't know," Sherlock told me as I breathed heavily and he kissed me deeply. "I don't know and I don't like not knowing," He repeated as he tucked me into his chest protectively. I clung to his arm as I felt our descent. "What I know is that I love you and that I will protect you," Sherlock promised me and I looked up at him as I felt the jolt of the plane as we landed and the plane speed down the runway before slowing down. "Whatever happens next we'll get through it like we always have," Sherlock told me as I blinked up at him, taking comfort in hearing his heartbeat under my ear and smelling his comforting scent. "Together," Sherlock told me and I smiled at him brightly before I leaned up and kissed him deeply.

"Together," I promised him. Sherlock and I got up from our seats after the stairs were lowered back down and we clasped hands and left the plane together, only having been gone ten minutes at most. A light rain was falling now though as we stepped back out of the plane and out onto the tarmac. The East Wind wasn't coming for us, at least not now. We stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking across at our army doctor who was smiling at us brightly and I put a hand over my stomach and looked up at Sherlock. He looked down at me and kissed me lightly before placing his hand over mine, splaying his fingers out. Yes, the East Wind was no longer blowing and we would be all right…all three of us.


	102. AN

Hello sweeties! It's Melodie here (and Lexi) and we're back after our long silence. We're ever so sorry that this isn't a chapter though. More of the Baker Street crew will be coming soon though!

This is actually a plea for help from all of you. The Baker Street gang and I were just informed of a plot by someone who must be working with Moriarty. We've been plagiarized! The criminal is none other than ConsultingCumberbitchAt221B on Archive of Our Own. The story which must have been written by someone as devious as Kitty Riley is called Confessions of a Consulting Detective.

But being serious now that that is out of the way, the gang and I could really use some help from all of you be going on and reporting the story for abuse. Let's not let those who think it's alright to steal another person's work win. I'm all for admiring someone's work but using it word for word and claiming it as your own is another matter entirely.

Thank you for your continued support of TRS and look for further cases in the New Year when the Baker Street Boys and Lexi Holmes return in the Christmas special. Also as a Christmas gift to you, I am now writing a short few shot deal for Lexi and the boys over the Holiday break.

All the best and Happy Holidays from the Baker Street crew!


	103. Update on the situation

You my darlings are beautiful! In just two short hours the story has been removed. Thank you my Baker Street crew for all your help and support. Lexi and the boys thank you for keeping their story their story. Please look forward to the following:

The Victorian Christmas special

A Baker Street and Supernatural crossover

A Baker Street and Doctor Who crossover featuring the 10th Doctor and Donna

Chapters for A Different Sort of Goldfish

Thank you again for your unwavering support for TRS, Lexi, and the boys. Much love from me and the Baker Street crew.


	104. The Curtain Rises Part II

There have been many times over the course of our association with John Watson whence Sherlock and I have had to go deep, deeper than we ever have before for a case. Surely each case that presents itself to us challenges our intellect and mental prowess. But...there is one case that challenges us the most, one we still cannot solve. These cases are few and far between and leave us questioning our very capabilities as consulting detectives. It is the case of Jim Moriarty and how it was done...how did he survive when we watched the Devil die.


	105. The Adventure Continues

**Hello sweeties! Yes, this is what you have all been waiting for, an update! This is the first chapter in The Abominable Bride. Without further ado I hope you enjoy. The next chapter will be posted as soon as I have it finished. I'm back baby! **

* * *

><p><strong>So far in The Resident Sociopaths of 221B<strong>

**2010**

**Lexi's POV**

John limped further into the room, looking around at all the equipment. "Well, bit different from my day," John remarked as he looked around the room.

"You've no idea!" Mike told him chuckling. I snorted at Mike's response as I walked further into the room. It was just like I remembered it from my younger days. I confined most of my experiments these days to the table in my kitchen.

I watched the man sit down at the far end of the room. As I brought my attention back to him "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine," He asked Mike without even glancing up from his work. His voice was a deep baritone and I quirked my eyebrow up in interest. I studied the man who Mike had wanted us to meet. I couldn't place him entirely. Some things were obvious to deduce, but I couldn't figure out everything about him. I would need to engage him in conversation in order to make my final deductions about him.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked him. The way he spoke hinted that he was used to this sort of behavior from the man. So Mike knew him well enough. From the way he acted I wouldn't say they were exactly friends, but they were on good terms with one another.

"I prefer to text," The man told him sounding bored. He was interesting I would give him that. I couldn't figure out Mike's comment yet though. I couldn't see any reason why Mike might regret introducing the two of us.

"Sorry. It's in my coat," Mike told him not sounding sorry at all. I walked over to John's side and glanced around the room looking briefly at what he was working on. He was skilled in Chemistry, but not a chemist. He certainly didn't work at Bart's either and yet he had been given access to one of the labs. This man seemed even more interesting by the second. What I found the most interesting however was that I couldn't deduce anything about the man save a few obvious facts.

John fished in his back pocket and took out his own mobile. "Er, here. Use mine," He offered breaking through the silence that had settled over the room.

"Oh. Thank you," The man said sounding genuinely surprised by the offer. He glanced briefly at Mike before standing up and walking towards John and me. I regarded the man in front of me with a quirked eyebrows as I cocked my head to the side and studied him further. It was very rarely that I ever met someone I could not deduce. It both infuriated me and interested me at the same time.

"An old friend of mine, John Watson and a good friend of mine Alexandria MacKenna," Mike introduced the both of us as the man took the phone from John. He turned partially away from us and flipped open the keypad before starting to type on it. He glanced at me for a brief second our eyes meeting for the barest of seconds.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" The man asked suddenly and I smiled brightly as John frowned beside me. I looked at Mike at the same time as John did and he just smiled at the two of us knowingly. John looked back at the man as he continued to type. I contemplated the man with a new inquisitiveness as I remained silent.

"Sorry?" John asked him as I shared a look with Mike. Now I understood why he said he might regret introducing the two of us. I couldn't help but grin madly, it wasn't all the time that I met someone who could deduce people like I could. I had only met one other person actually.

"Which was it …Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asked again as he briefly raised his eyes to study John before looking back to the phone. John hesitated at being asked the same question twice in the same day and looked a Mike confused. Mike only smiled at him smugly as I narrowed my eyes and studied the man who had certainly peaked my interest.

"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know...?" John asked him before the door opened cutting him off. The man looked up from the phone as a woman walked into the room carrying a mug of coffee. I recognized the woman as the pathologist I had met before in the morgue.

"Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you," The man said as he shut down John's phone and handed it back to him as Molly brought the mug over to him. He looked closely at her as he took the mug. "What happened to the lipstick?" He asked her forwardly and I raised one eyebrow at his question.

"It wasn't working for me," Molly asked him smiling awkwardly at him. Molly was a really nice girl. She was a bit timid and shy, but I liked her. I actually enjoyed her company when I was working down in the morgue. I could tell that she had a crush on this guy though, but the feelings were completely one sided.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now," The man told her as he turned and walked back to his station. I watched him take a sip from the mug before grimacing at the taste and setting the mug down. I was quiet sure that he wasn't going to touch it again. He certainly didn't seem like he cared about offending people which could be seen as either a good or bad thing.

"... Okay," Molly said quietly as she turned and headed back towards the door dejectedly.

"Don't listen to him Molls. You are looking fabulous to today. I love what you did with you hair," I complimented her even though her hair was the same way it always was. Girls had to stick together and I considered Molly Hooper to be one of my only friends in life which pushed the total up to three. Maybe four now if you could count John as a new friend.

"Thanks Alex. It's nice to see you, it's been a while since you've come in," Molly said smiling brightly at me. I had successfully given her a confidence boost. I was doing well today. I really had to get out and talk to people more often. Hell, maybe I should become a psychiatrist. I was actually surprisingly good at this whole talking to people malarkey. Maybe that was because I had such a messed up life that I didn't care what came out of my mouth. I was going to tell you like it was.

"Been a bit busy. I'll come by soon to see you and we can catch up," I told Molly who happily agreed to the plans before making her way back towards the door with a wave over her shoulder at me. Oh yeah, I was on fire today. Maybe this new guy had something I could fix too. He certainly needed some lessons on people skills.

"How do you feel about the violin?" The man said suddenly his voice cutting through the silence. John looked at Molly, but she was already walking out of the door. He glanced briefly at Mike who was still smiling smugly at the two of us before the both of us came to the conclusion that he was talking to the two of us.

"I'm sorry, what?" John asked him at the same time as I snorted at the randomness of the question.

The man was typing away on a laptop as he started talking again. "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end." He said as he looked at the two of us. "Would that bother either of you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other," He finished as he threw a hideously false smile at us. I rolled my eyes at him. Mood swings was this guy's middle name.

John looked at him blankly before looking back at Mike. "Oh, you ... you told him about us?" John asked Mike sounding confused. I walked around John and down the lab table glancing over at the experiment that the man had been conducting. The man in question raised an eyebrow at me as I looked over his work, but I paid him no heed. In fact, I completely ignored him and went about with what I was doing.

"Not a word," Mike answered him smugly and I shared a look with Mike for a brief second as I remained silent and let John do all of the talking. He seemed to have a pretty good handle on things. I didn't see a reason for me to jump into the conversation just yet.

"Then who said anything about flat mates?" John asked the man as he turned back to him sounding huffy. That would be the military side coming out. I smiled amused by John's reaction.

The man got up and picked up a great coat before pulling it on. "I did. Told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan and a friend he holds in a high regard. Wasn't that difficult a leap."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asked him as he looked at me for an answer. I flashed him a smile as the man ignored the question and wrapped a navy scarf around his neck. It was worn, a good few years old which meant that he loved that scarf. He picked up his mobile and checked it briefly. Yeah, sure he didn't have service I thought amusedly as I caught the man's eye. He caught my slightly raised eyebrow as I looked at him and then at his phone. I saw the barest hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth which gave his little ruse away.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together the three of us ought to be able to afford it," The man said as he walked towards John. I walked back over to Mike and stopped at the end of the lab table closer to John as I stood with my fingers laced behind my back. "We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry…gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary," He continued as he put his phone into the inside pocket of his coat before walking past John and heading for the door. His eyes swept over me again as he walked past me.

"Is that it?" John asked him sounding flabbergasted. The man turned back from the door and strolled closer to the two of us again.

"Is that what?" The man asked him. Any normal person might have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but I only raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I popped my hip to the right in a general display of my attitude.

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?" John asked him sounding slightly irate. I had to say this was rather entertaining to watch.

"Problem?" The man asked him quirking one of his eyebrows. John smiled at him in disbelief before looking across to Mike for help. Mike only continued to smile so John looked back at the younger man in front of us.

John looked at me briefly for a second and after taking in my stance he decided to handle this for the both of us. "We don't know a thing about each other; we don't know where we're meeting; we don't even know your name."

The man looked at the both of us closely for a second. I saw a flash of amusement take over his features as he looked at me which only made me narrow my eyes at him before he started speaking. "I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him…possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic…quite correctly, I'm afraid." John down at his leg and cane and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" He asked us smugly as he turned and walked to the door again. He opened it and walked through, but then he leaned back into the room again. "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street," He said as he click-winked at me before looking round at Mike. "Afternoon."

Mike raised a finger in farewell as Sherlock disappeared from the room. As the door slams shut behind him, John turned and looked at Mike in disbelief. Mike smiled and nodded at him as I uncrossed my arms and looked right at Mike. "Yeah. He's always like that," Mike told us as I smiled brightly at him.

I smiled at John before looking back at Mike a thought already forming in my head. "I believe this might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," I remarked with a large grin on my face. John looked at me in disbelief as Mike shook his head at me.

"I was right, I am going to regret introducing you two," Mike said with a groan as I rushed to the door, my hair flying wildly behind me.

"It was nice meeting you John, I'll see you tomorrow!" I shouted over my shoulder as I opened the door and started to walk out. I didn't even have to speak one word to the man to know that I was going to end up liking him.

"Are you seriously going to meet him tomorrow?" John called after me and I popped my head back inside of the room with a big grin on my face.

"Of course," I told John as if he already should have known this about me. "I'll see you later Mike," I told the man who looked at me slightly horrified by what he had wrought before I left the room again. I had some really important things to take care of now.

"Is she seriously going to meet him tomorrow?" I heard John asking Mike in disbelief as Mike chuckled in response as the door was closing. I paused for a brief moment to listen to the two men. People said the most interesting things when they thought you couldn't hear them.

"That's Lexi for you," I heard Mike tell John simply and I chortled to myself as I made my way out of Bart's and back out into the cold chill of the London afternoon.

**John's POV**

John looked out of the window of the car, trying to assess the situation before he got out of the car. A man in a very expensive looking suit was standing in the center of the area, leaning nonchalantly on an umbrella as he watched the car stop. John collected his wits before he slowly got out of the car, holding onto the door for support before he got his other foot on the ground. In front of the man was a straight-backed armless chair facing him, he gestured to it with the point of his umbrella as John limped towards him leaning heavily on his cane. This wasn't going to end well for John, he already realized that.

"Have a seat, John," The man told him calmly with this air of a posh man who was used to getting what he wanted around him. John continued walking towards him unwilling to give the man any sort of satisfaction of seeing that he was slightly unnerved.

"You know, I've got a phone," John told him his voice sounding a lot calmer than he felt as he looked around the warehouse trying to find some sort of clue as to where he had been taken. "I mean, very clever and all that, but er ... you could just phone me… on my phone," He continued as he walked straight past the chair and stopped a few paces away from the man. John was over average height, but he was not going to be intimidated by the taller man. There was no way he was going to be sitting either. John's eyes flickered to the man's umbrella for a brief moment, silently assessing any object that could possibly be used as a weapon. Not that John thought he would last long in any fight with this man, he probably had an entire team of men at his disposal.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place," The man told him. His voice which had had a pleasant smile accompanying it so far became a little sterner. John felt like he was being scolded by the man as if he was a small child. John felt slightly relieved however that the man had left Lexi out of the conversation. He wasn't sure why, but he had grown fond of the woman in only a short time. She just seemed so fragile, so sweet and delicate. There was no way he wanted this man anywhere near her. "The leg must be hurting you. Sit down," The man demanded him sounding slightly more sinister than before. John gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw tightly.

"I don't wanna sit down," John told him refusing to do anything he told him to. The man looked at him curiously as if he was almost expecting this reaction.

"You don't seem very afraid," The man remarked quirking one eyebrow thoughtfully. He had a slight smirk on his face. If anything he looked more sinister when he was smiling than when he was frowning.

"You don't seem very frightening," John told him lying to himself slightly. The man was actually quite imposing. He chuckled at John's response. It was a sound that made John feel, if it was possible, even more uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"Ah, yes. The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?" The man asked him as he looked at John sternly. "What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes and Alexandra MacKenna?" John swore to himself mentally. So this guy did know Lexi.

"I don't have one. I barely know them. I met them...," John said before looking away thoughtfully. It was surprising how little time had passed since he met the pair of detectives. Since he met them nothing had made any since to him at all. "...yesterday," He finished after a second. Had he really just met them yesterday? What sort of person goes to a crime scene with two people he just met the day before?

"Mmm, and since yesterday you've moved in with them and now you're solving crimes together," The man said sounding rather amused. Well, if you put it that way it did sound really bad. "Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week? I will warn you Alexandra doesn't share well with others, neither does Sherlock for that matter," The man asked him smiling in that way that made John's skin crawl.

"Who are you?" John asked him getting fed up with all of the secrecy now. Not to mention he felt really uncomfortable with where this was going.

"An interested party," The man answered him simply. Oh yeah, thanks for that, really helpful answer John thought angrily. Who was Mary Poppins and how did he know Sherlock and Lexi?

"Interested in Sherlock? In Lexi? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends," John scoffed remembering what Donovan had told him about Sherlock and Lexi not having any friends. John rather doubted that this man was the sort of person they would spend their time with either, but he couldn't be entirely sure. He had already been warned off from them. This man certainly had to know more about them then he did.

"You've met them. How many 'friends' do you imagine they have? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having. The closest thing to family that Alexandra has," The man told him sounding thoughtful when he mentioned the girl. John didn't like it that he knew her. He felt unsettled that this man had probably kidnapped her at some point too. What exactly was Lexi's connection to him and why did he say he was the closest thing she had to family? The longer John stayed here, the more questions he had about Lexi and Sherlock. A lot of those questions were about Lexi though. Sherlock was easy enough to understand, but Lexi was confusing.

"And what's that?" John asked him sounding bemused. What was it with Sherlock and Lexi that got everyone in a tizzy? First he had Donovan warning him off from even knowing them and now he had someone questioning him on how he knew them. Who were these people? Obviously they attracted a lot of attention and not all good attention either.

"An enemy and an annoyance."

"An enemy?" John asked him not bothering to comment on the last part. It was blatantly obvious why someone might think he was an annoyance. He was already getting on John's nerves and he hadn't been talking with him that long.

"In Sherlock's mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic. Lexi on the other hand would probably tell you I am the bane of her existence if you asked her. She does love to be overly dramatic, one only has to be in her company for a few minutes to see a display of her theatrics." John couldn't disagree with that. She was a little overly theatric, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

John looked pointedly around the warehouse ready to be done with the man's interrogation. "Well, thank God you're above all that," He told the man sarcastically. The man frowned at him. Just then John's phone trilled a text alert. He looked at the man for a long second before he dug into his jacket pocket and took out his phone. He unlocked it and read his text message while ignoring the man in front of him.

**_Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. SH_**

"I hope I'm not distracting you," The man said pleasantly enough with an amused smirk on his face as he leaned against his bloody umbrella.

"Not distracting me at all," John answered him casually as he took his time looking up from his phone before pocketing it again.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes and Ms. MacKenna?" The man demanded as soon as he had John's attention again. There was that sinister note in his voice again. It induced the same sort of feeling in John as Donovan's warning had.

"I could be wrong ... but I think that's none of your business," John told him honestly, standing his ground. He had been in the military for heaves sake. This was just one guy with an umbrella. He also looked like the posh type. Sure he seemed more threatening with the location and the black car and the mysterious ringing phone, but that was all an intimidation act.

"It could be," The man told him a little ominously. John snorted, that sounded likt the answer of a man that always got what he wanted and looking at him, John was quiet sure he was used to it.

"It really couldn't," John told him immediately. What he did with his life was none of this man's business. If he wanted to continue his "association" with Lexi and Sherlock then that would be his own choice not someone else's. The man reached for his jacket pocket and John tensed, expecting him to come back with a loaded gun, but he only calmly took a notebook from his inside pocket. The man opened it and consulted one of the pages before he responded.

"If you do move into, um ... two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way," He told John as he closed the notebook and put it away again.

"Why?"

"Because you're not a wealthy man," The man told him trying to play to his interests. If he thought he could be won over that quickly the man was sadly mistaken. John was not stupid, sure he wasn't as smart as Sherlock or Lexi, but he knew where this was going. Take the man's money and then he would never be left alone.

"In exchange for what?" John asked him not even considering taking his offer, but wanting to know exactly what the man was after. He wouldn't feel right if he just walked away now only to find out later that someone else had taken the offer which might put Lexi or Sherlock in danger.

"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel ... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what they're up to," The man told him, looking down at his umbrella before back up at John as if he was contemplating his words carefully.

"Why?"

"I worry about them. Constantly," The man told John sounding genuine for once. It surprised John, but he still wasn't going to bite. Spying on your flat mates for a strange man in a suit with a stupid umbrella didn't seem like the best way to get off on the right foot.

"That's nice of you," John told him insincerely trying to make it clear that he would not be accepting the business offer or whatever this was. Why would this man even worry about them?

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. Sherlock and I have what you might call a ... difficult relationship. While Alexandra knows of my concern she does not always heed my warnings," The man told him as John's phone trilled again alerting him to another text. He immediately fished the phone out of his pocket once again and read the message he had been sent.

**_If inconvenient, come anyway. SH_**

"No," John told him firmly in response to the man's offer still looking down at his phone. What did Sherlock want with him especially after he had left without him? John couldn't just blame him though, Lexi had run off too.

"But I haven't mentioned a figure."

"Don't bother," John told him as he stowed his phone away in his pocket again. No amount of money was going to get him to change his mind. He was not going to be doing anything to help this man.

The man laughed briefly, it didn't sound like he laughed often. "You're very loyal, very quickly."

"No, I'm not. I'm just not interested," John told him honestly. It wasn't that he was loyal, he just really wasn't interested in spying on Sherlock or Lexi. He wanted a quiet life. That was it. Whatever they choose to get up to was up to them.

The man looked at him closely for a moment, then took out his notebook and opened it again. He gestured to it slightly to make it clear that he was reading a note from the book "'Trust issues," it says here."

"What's that?" John asked him, for the first time since their encounter began, dropping his calm demeanor and instead looking a little unnerved. That couldn't be what he thought it was.

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlock Holmes and Ms. MacKenna of all people?" The man asked John as he looked down at his book again.

"Who says I trust them?"

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily," The man stated before continuing. "And yet you've made quite an impression on Ms. MacKenna. She does seem rather taken with you."

"Are we done?" John asked him impatiently. He was getting tired of whatever the hell this was. He just wanted to have a sit down with a cuppa. The man raised his head and looked into John's eyes.

"You tell me," The man told him calmly. John looked at him for a long moment before turning his back on him and starting to walk away. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from them, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

John stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders tensed and dropped and he angrily shook his head a little. "My what?" He asked the man savagely through bared teeth having finally had enough of the games that the man was playing.

"Show me," The man told him calmly as he nodded towards John's left hand as he spoke. He planted the tip of his umbrella on the floor and leaned casually on it like a man who is used to having his orders obeyed. John, however, was not going to be intimidated and deliberately shifted his feet under him as if digging in. He raised his left hand, bending it at the elbow, and stood still. His message was clear, if the man wanted to look at his hand, he'd have to come to him. Unperturbed by his belligerence, the man strolled forward, hooking the handle of the umbrella over his arm as he reached for John's hand. John instantly pulled his hand back a little.

"Don't," John warned him tensely. The man lowered his head and raised his eyebrows at John, almost as if saying, 'Did I mention trust issues?!' John very reluctantly lowered his hand, holding it out flat with the palm down. The man took it in both of his own hands and looked at it closely.

"Remarkable," The man commented with interest as he studied John's hand closely.

"What is?" John asked him snatching his hand back. He didn't like the way the man was talking.

The man turned and walked a few paces away. "Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield," He said as he turned towards John again "You've seen it already, haven't you? I wonder what you see when you walk with Alexandra."

"What's wrong with my hand?" John asked him ignoring his comment about Lexi. Lexi… Alexandra, John wasn't sure what he saw when he walked with her either, but it definitely was not the battlefield.

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand." Unintentionally, John nodded his head in agreement. He cursed himself for doing so afterwards, but the damage was already done. "Your therapist thinks its post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service," The man continued. John almost flinched as the man accurately fired off these facts at him. His gaze was fixed ahead of him and the muscle in his cheek started to twitch repeatedly as he clenched his jaw in anger.

"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?" John snapped at him angrily. How the hell did this man know all about this about him? How long had he been bloody watching him?

"Fire her. She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady," The man commented. John's eyes flickered toward his hand before returning to stare ahead of himself, his face was set as he struggled to hold back his anger. "You're not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it," The man continued as he leaned closer to John. Reluctantly John raised his eyes to meet the man in front of him that was trying to intimidate him. "Welcome back," He told John in a whisper before he turned and stated to walk away to the back of the ware house. John's phone trilled another text alert "Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson," The man called back casually twirling his umbrella as he walked.

John stood fixed to the spot for a few seconds. He was angry and confused. How the bloody hell did this man know him or Sherlock or Lexi for that matter? He just walked out of there like he was the bloody king of England. John clenched and unclenched his jaw before he turned and glanced towards the departing man one last time. Behind him, the car door opened and not-Anthea got out and walked a few paces towards him. Her attention was still entirely consumed by the BlackBerry held in front of her in both hands. Did she ever put her phone down for a second? What was so bloody important?

"I'm to take you home," She told John who half-turned toward her before stopping and taking out his phone to look at the new message.

"Could be dangerous.-SH" The text read. Jaw clenched his jaw in anger again. He had had far more than enough for one night thank you very much. His phone trilled again with a new text message and John, against his better judgment, opened the new text and read it.

**_Sorry about leaving you like that earlier. Heading to Baker Street to see what Sherlock wants. Don't feel too put out with us. I'll make you a cuppa when we get back. –LM_**

John shook his head at the second text he had received before putting his phone back in his pocket. He sighed heavily, his anger lessening slightly. At least Lexi had apologized to him unlike Sherlock. The nagging feeling came back as John thought over her text message. She said she was heading back to Baker Street now. That meant that she wasn't with Sherlock. She had left with him though. John flicked his gaze over to where the mysterious man had departed. Did he pick up Lexi too? Maybe she and Sherlock had just split up. John was determined to find out who the man was and what he wanted with Sherlock and Lexi. John held out his left hand in front of him again and studied the lack of tremor coming from it. He smiled wryly to himself.

"Address?" Anthea asked him suddenly breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Er, Baker Street. Two two one B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first," John told her as he turned and walked back over to her.

**_Lexi's POV_**

"You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor," Sherlock said as soon as we entered the living room again. I crossed my arms and popped my hip to the right as I stood next to Sherlock. It really irritated me that he was still four inches taller than I was and I only reached his shoulder. It made me look a lot less daunting than he was.

"Yes," John said upon taking notice of us. He got to his feet and turned towards the two of us as we walked over to John and stood in front of him.

"Any good?" I asked John with a raised eyebrow. I caught Sherlock smirking out of the corner of my eye as he caught on to what I was doing. I was trying to goad him into taking the bait.

"Very good," John told me as he met my challenge.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths?" Sherlock asked him carrying on our duel interrogation.

"Mmm, yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet," I said as Sherlock caught my eye and we shared a look for a brief moment. We had him already.

"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much," John said quietly as if he was trying to convince himself. He couldn't resist it though. He missed the danger of the chase far too much to back down.

"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked him as I tried to hide my smile. We were good, actually we made a pretty good team. My evening just got really interesting all of a sudden.

"Oh God, yes," John told us fervently without a second's thought. Sherlock and I turned on our heels and headed back down the stairs as John followed after us. Sherlock and I allowed ourselves to glace at each other briefly to smile at our triumph.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out," John called out as he hurried down the stairs after us. I rolled my eyes at the sound of his cane hitting the steps. We were going to have to cure that really quickly because the tapping was just a tad bit annoying.

"The three of you?" Mrs. Hudson asked in confusion as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock and I had almost reached the door, but he quickly turned and walked back towards her. I waited for him with my hand on the door knob as I watched his excitement return. He had mood swings that were almost as bad as mine…almost.

"Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock told her as he took her by the shoulders and kissed her noisily on the cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent," Mrs. Hudson said unable to hide her smile as she looked over at me and saw my expression was much like Sherlock's. Sherlock turned away from her walked back over to me as I threw open the door and walked out to curbing

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" Sherlock called in the door way before he walked out and stopped by my side. He attempted to hail an approaching black cab. "Taxi!" He cried holding his arm out, but the cabbie only drove on as John came out to join us by the curb.

"Oh for god's sakes," I said before stepping out further and whistling shrilly to catch the attention of another approaching cab. The taxi pulled up alongside and I looked back at Sherlock and John. John looked amused, but Sherlock looked irritated. "Being a woman has its advantages," I remarked to John as Sherlock got into the back seat of the cab as soon as it slowed down enough.

**_Lexi's POV_**

"The explosion, which ripped through several floors, killing twelve people ...," The news reporter said as John briefly glanced over his shoulder at Sherlock and me.

"Old block of flats," He commented as I continued to listen to the news story.

"...is said to have been caused by a faulty gas main. A spokesman from the utilities company...," The newscaster said and I snorted. They were blaming it on a gas explosion again. Course it was smarter to not tell the public that there was a bomber kidnapping people and strapping bombs to them loose around London. Spreading panic wasn't a good idea.

"He certainly gets about," John said and I nodded, humming in agreement.

"Just a bit," I told him calmly.

"Well, obviously we lost that round – although technically we did solve the case," Sherlock said as he picked up the remote control and muted the volume.

"Sher," I warned him as he lowered his hand again and he looked thoughtfully into the distance.

"He killed the old lady because she started to describe him," Sherlock continued as he raised a finger on his other hand. "Just once, he put himself in the firing line," Sherlock told us and John frowned slightly.

"What d'you mean?" John asked us and I took in a deep breath before answering him.

"Usually, he stays above everything that happens. He organizes these things, but no one ever has direct contact with him. He gets others to do his dirty work. He has that sort of power. He's the planner, but not the enforcer. This time he was forced to get involved personally. For the first time he put himself in a position that could jeopardize his identity. Sherlock is right. That's the only reason why the woman died. He couldn't risk her telling us anything," I told John and Sherlock nodded in agreement beside me.

"What ... like the Connie Prince murder – he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?" John asked us and I nodded at him in confirmation.

"Exactly John. He organizes all of these crimes," I told the army doctor as I looked over at Sherlock.

"Novel," He said softly, his face full of admiration. John looked at him in disbelief, then turned and looks at the TV screen again, which had moved on to a new story.

"Huh," John said and he jerked a finger towards the screen. Sherlock and I looked up to see Raoul de Santos being bundled out of Kenny's house by police officers. The press were there and were shoving each other as they struggled to get close to Raoul and take photographs while interviewers shouted questions. The headline on the screen read: "Connie Prince: man arrested". Raoul was shoved into the back of a police car. John looked round at Sherlock, who was looking down at the pink phone.

"Taking his time this time," Sherlock said and I shook my head quickly.

"No, I think he is being careful. We've almost found out something about him. He's going to want to make sure a slip up like that doesn't happen again," I told Sherlock as John looked away from us, clearing his throat uncomfortably. On the TV, the camera was focusing on Kenny who was standing at the window of his house, holding Sekhmet in his arms and watching the chaos outside.

"Anything on the Carl Powers case?" John asked us and I shook my head as Sherlock answered him.

"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection," Sherlock told him. We had come to a dead end on figuring out who the bomber might be through Carl Powers. There was just no connection between anything.

"Maybe the killer was older than Carl?" John asked us and I looked to Sherlock sharing a look with him for a long moment.

"The thought had occurred," Sherlock told the army doctor as I watched him carefully.

"I tried to see if Garcia could find any connections for me but she found nothing. As far as we know there isn't one and my other contact is MIA or basically buried up to her eyeballs in work so she could only do a basic search which wielded nothing too. It's possible the bomber didn't even go to the same school as Carl," I told John as I turned to look over at him again.

"So why's he doing this, then – playing this game with you? D'you think he wants to be caught?" John asked us as Sherlock pressed his fingertips together in front of his mouth and smiled slightly.

"I think he wants to be distracted," Sherlock told John who laughed humourlessly, got out of his chair, and headed towards the kitchen.

"I hope you three will be very happy together," John said and I raised my eyebrow at his tone.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked him as I stared back at John is disbelief and a bit of anger.

"Excuse me?" I asked him as my brows furrowed and I fixed him with a glare. John turned back to us, furious, and leaned his hands on the back of his chair.

"There are lives at stake, Sherlock, Lexi, – actual human lives… Just - just so I know, do you care about that at all?" John asked us and I sniffed in anger as I continued to glare at the army doctor. How dare he think that I didn't care, that Sherlock didn't care?

"Will caring about them help save them?" Sherlock asked John irritably as I stared back at the army doctor feeling offended.

"Nope," John told him shortly.

"Then we'll continue not to make that mistake," Sherlock told him as he reached up and put a hand on my arm. I knew he was trying to calm me down, but right now I was too angry for even him to calm me down. I had told John. I had tried to tell him, but he hadn't listened to me.

"And you find that easy, do you?" John asked us as I bit my cheek.

"Yes and no, John," I told the army doctor keeping my tone steady as Sherlock rubbed his thumb over my arm slightly.

"Yes, very. Is that news to you?" Sherlock asked John as I shook my head.

"No," John answered him, smiling bitterly. "No," John said again and Sherlock and John locked eyes for a moment. John looked at me next but he looked away really quickly, good.

"We've disappointed you," Sherlock remarked as he rubbed his thumb over my arm again and I gritted my teeth but calmed down slightly as I blew a deep breath out through my gritted teeth.

"That's good – that's a good deduction, yeah," John told Sherlock bitterly as I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them," Sherlock said I immediately looked at him.

"That's not true Lock. We're all heroes in our own way," I told Sherlock and he looked away from John who he had been staring with and up at me. We shared a long look and the corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched up slightly. The pink phone suddenly sounded a message alert breaking our gaze.

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock opened the door leading into the area surrounding the indoor swimming pool where he was supposed to meet this Moriarty. He knew that Lexi would kill him herself if she knew what he had done, but he couldn't leave now. He could handle her later after all of this. She would know something was wrong however when she returned to the flat and he wasn't there which is why he had left her a note telling her that he would be back soon and had gone to talk with Lestrade at the Yard. He estimated that he had about half an hour before she could hack his phone and find him. She had been suspicious of him back at the flat, but hadn't said anything. The lights were on around the pool but there was nobody else around. When he had left Baker Street he had taken his coat and scarf off and was just wearing his suit as he could change that easily, but he couldn't get certain smells out of his coat like gunpowder. That would certainly tip Lexi off that he wasn't where he said he was. Sherlock walked slowly towards the shallow end of the pool, very aware off the upper gallery where people sat and watched the swimmers was still in darkness. He stopped at the edge of the pool and turned, trying to see up into the area of the gallery above his head. Finally he turned towards the pool again, raising one hand and holding up the memory stick.

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making us dance – all to distract us from this," Sherlock called loudly as he gestured with the memory stick, then began to turn in a slow circle as he waited for a response. When his back was turned to the pool, a door opened halfway down the room. Sherlock looked over his shoulder, still holding the memory stick aloft. And Lexi walked through the door and into the pool area, wrapped snugly in a hooded jacket with her hands tucked into the pockets. She turned and looked at Sherlock as the detective stared back at her in absolute shock.

"Evening," She said, her voice light and calm, but her eyes weren't. Her eyes looked a bit sunken in and haunted and slightly red streaked as if she had been crying. But there was also a fierce determination in them and strength. Sherlock slowly lowered his raised hand but otherwise he didn't move, still staring over his shoulder in utter disbelief. It had been her all along. This is why the bomber hadn't had direct communication with them because it would have been so obvious to tell that it was her. But…it couldn't be her. Not after everything they had been through. Not to mention the Lexi he knew could have never done this. Unless she was playing him from the very beginning when she decided to move in, getting under his skin, gain his trust, until he cracked and gave into her. Until he gave in completely and kissed her. It was all a game and once she finally won, finally made him care about her, she betrayed him. "This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?" She asked as she moved closer to him.

"Lexi. What the hell...?" Sherlock asked her softly in shock, feeling betrayed. This is why Mycroft said caring wasn't an advantage. He cared and this is what he got for it.

"Bet you never saw this coming," Lexi remarked and Sherlock caught her wince slightly as she walked forward. Finally Sherlock managed to move, and started to walk slowly towards the girl he had believed to be his friend and possibly love until now. The shock and bewilderment on his face made him look about twelve years old. "Lexi, the girl that was so desperate to impress, who just wanted to be noticed. Pathetic isn't it?" Lexi asked her voice cracking slightly. Then, with a look of despair that matched Sherlock's, Lexi took her hands from her pockets and pulled open her jacket to reveal the bomb strapped to her chest. A sniper's laser immediately began to dance around over the bomb. "What ... would you like me ... to make her say ... next?" Lexi asked Sherlock as he continued to step towards her but now he was looking everywhere but at Lexi as he tried to see who else was in the area. "Gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer ... gottle o' geer," She said obviously narrating words spoken into an earpiece. Her voice almost broke on the last phrase.

"Stop it," Sherlock said dangerously as he looked at Lexi who had a look in her eyes that he didn't like at all. She was terrified and if her wince was any indication she was also hurt and she was being used.

"Nice touch, this, the pool where little Carl died," Lexi narrated before continuing. "I stopped him," Lexi said and she tried not to cringe as she listened to the next words. "I can stop Lexi MacKenna too," Lexi said as she looked down at the laser point on her chest. "Stop her heart."

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked turning on the spot as he tried to look in all directions. A door opened at the far end of the pool and a soft male voice with an Irish accent spoke from that direction.

"I gave you my number," The voice said and Lexi shuddered visibly. Sherlock got a brief glimpse of a man wearing a suit and tie, but he was currently mostly obscured by a column. "I thought you might call," The man continued plaintively and Sherlock turned towards the new arrival, who now slowly walked out into the open. It was Jim, Molly's boyfriend. But this wasn't the fumble-fingered casually-dressed Londoner he had met; this was a sharply-dressed man with immaculate hair and a murderous look on his face. With his hands in his pockets, he casually began to stroll alongside the deep end of the pool, heading towards Sherlock and Lexi. All hint of plaintiveness had now gone from his voice. "Is that British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket...," The man asked as Sherlock reached down to his trouser pocket and removed his pistol from it. "...or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Both," Sherlock said raising the pistol and aiming it towards Jim. Jim stopped and looked back at him, unafraid.

"Jim Moriarty. Hi!" Moriarty said and Sherlock tilted his head as he looked more closely at the man. Jim acted as if he needed to remind Sherlock who he was. Lexi had frozen as soon as Moriarty stepped into the room which told Sherlock that he was right and something had happened before he got there. She flinched when she heard his voice which was the second indication. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" Moriarty asked as he began to walk alongside the deep end again. Sherlock brought up his other hand to support the one aiming the gun and Jim bit his lip as if disappointed. "Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point. "Moriarty said as he turned to face Sherlock just as the sniper's laser flickered over Lexi's upper chest. Sherlock briefly turned his head towards Lexi, a questioning look on his face. "Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty," Moriarty said as he continued walking before he reached the corner of the pool and opened a door behind him dragging John out of the room. Sherlock saw that he also had a large jacket on which when it fell open slightly revealed that he also had a bomb strapped onto him. He looked straight at Sherlock before his eyes flickered to Lexi, worry filling them as Lexi stood completely still. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, Lexi, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see...," Moriarty said as he looked surprised, as if he had only just realized the connection. "...like you two!"

"Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?" Sherlock said as Moriarty started to walk forward again dragging John along with him and he grinned as he recognized the TV show and catchphrase that Sherlock was quoting. "Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"

"Dear Jim. Please will you help me leave money to my children after I die?" Lexi added and Sherlock looked over at her as he realized what she was talking about. He sponsored the serial killer that was behind their first case together. The reason that Lexi had gotten back into solving cases.

"Just so," Moriarty said as he stopped again, John glaring at him murderously and Sherlock could tell why. Though Lexi was trying very hard it seemed, her composure was slipping and her face showed how much pain she was in. From where Sherlock was now standing he could see a bruise starting to form on her right cheek along with a slight cut on her cheekbone which meant she had been punched by someone wearing a ring.

"Consulting criminal," Sherlock said softly. "Brilliant," He finished and Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Hardly," She said venom dripping from the single world and Jim smiled proudly and in amusement as his gaze flicked over to her.

"Isn't it?" Jim asked, seemingly ignoring the comment Lexi had made. "No-one ever gets to me – and no-one ever will."

"We did," Sherlock told him as he cocked the pistol. Lexi's shoulders were tense as she stood staring at Sherlock who could tell that she was taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself as she seemed to be concentrating on something. She just kept watching him and looking at his face as if she was trying to focus on that rather than Moriarty who was behind her.

"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way," Moriarty told them and Lexi flinched again at those words.

"Thank you," Sherlock told Moriarty as Lexi laughed breathlessly.

"Aye, I feel so special," She said sarcastically and Jim flicked his gaze over to her again, a slight bit of annoyance flashing in his eyes. She was doing it on purpose, trying to piss him off now.

"Didn't mean it as a compliment," Moriarty told them and Lexi snorted.

"Yes you did," Sherlock told him carefully as he watched Lexi whom John was also watching.

Moriarty shrugged before answering him. "Yeah, okay, I did. But the flirting's over, Sherlock, Lexi...," He said as his voice became high-pitched and sing-song. "Daddy's had enough now!" Moriarty sang as he started to stroll closer again dragging John with him who went with him as he also had a sniper's laser pointed on his chest. Moriarty returned to his normal voice as he continued to talk. "I've shown you two what I can do. I cut lose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play. Took more than that to get Lexi to come back out to play," Moriarty said as John started to feel the strain and closed his eyes briefly. Sherlock's eyes couldn't help but flicker across to him and Lexi a couple of times as he tried to keep his focus on the man approaching them with John. He had to get Lexi out of there soon. She was very pale and she looked like she was going to go into shock soon. "So take this as a friendly warning, my dears. Back off," Mori arty told them and he smiled. "Although I have loved this – this little game of ours," Moriarty continued as he put on his London accent for a moment. "Playing Jim from I.T," He said before he switched back to his Irish accent. "Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"

"People have died," Sherlock pointed out. Lexi had been right, she had told him to be careful with Moriarty because she knew. The fear he saw in her now was not just fear because of their situation, no, she knew more about Moriarty, what he was capable of and Sherlock felt that if he had to guess, this had something to do with Dublin. It wasn't that difficult of a leap. She had started her consultant business in Dublin and then had just moved to London out of the blue. Then there was the fact that both Moriarty and Lexi were Irish. This wasn't her first encounter with the man, but she hadn't remembered his name and she claimed she could remember everything so why? Why had she forgotten him? Most people did when they experienced trauma, forgot events and people. Trauma she experienced just before she really started with the drugs.

"That's what people DO!" Moriarty yelled screaming the last word furiously, his personality changing in an instant. Lexi flinched when he shouted and closed her eyes tightly for a moment before she opened them and stared back at Sherlock.

"I will stop you," Sherlock warned him softly and Lexi nodded her head slightly.

"As will I. I didn't once, I won't make the same mistake again," Lexi told him her voice unwavering, answering Sherlock's thoughts. So she had met him before or at least come into contact with him.

"No you won't," Moriarty said, calmer now as Sherlock looked across to John and Lexi.

"You all right?" Sherlock asked them and John deliberately kept his gaze away from his him, presumably having been given instructions earlier about not talking to him. Lexi however keep her gaze steadily on him and met his eyes when he looked over at her. Jim walked forward again and reached her side, John next to Lexi rather than Moriarty which she, John, and Sherlock all seemed thankful for.

"You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead. I guess you can too Beautiful Bird," Moriarty told them though he hadn't really needed to give Lexi permission as she had spoken anyway. Refusing to specifically obey Jim's orders, John meet Sherlock's eyes and nodded once as did Lexi. Sherlock took one hand off the pistol and held out the memory stick towards Moriarty.

"Take it," Sherlock told him, offering him the memory stick.

"Huh? Oh! That!" Moriarty asked as he let go of John and strolled past Lexi and John and reached out for the stick, grinning. "The missile plans!" He continued as he took the stick from Sherlock's fingers and brought it to his mouth, kissing it. Behind him, John was silently murmuring to Lexi, perhaps trying to keep her focused and calm or perhaps he was winding himself up to take action Sherlock didn't know what, but John looked murderously at Moriarty after Lexi muttered something to him. Jim lowered the memory stick and looked at it. "Boring!" He said in a sing-song voice as he shook his head. "I could have got them anywhere," Moriarty said as he nonchalantly tossed the stick into the pool. Seeing his opportunity, John suddenly raced forward and slammed himself up against Jim's back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his chest as Lexi watched him in horror, taking an involuntary step away from them bringing her closer towards Sherlock before stumbling slightly, Sherlock catching her arm and steadying her before she fell. Sherlock backed up a step in surprise as well but kept the pistol raised and aimed at Moriarty as Lexi stood near him within arm's length.

"Sherlock, run! Lexi, just go!" John yelled at them as Lexi clutched her side after crying out slightly in pain and screwing up her face, biting her lip to keep herself quiet as Jim laughed in delight.

"Good! Very good," Moriarty laughed and Sherlock didn't move, still aiming his gun at Jim's head but now he started to look up a little anxiously, wondering what action the hidden sniper might take. He noticed that there were two snipers both trained on John now. The one trained on John was moving around a lot, but the one that had been trained on Lexi was still, better aim and concentration and had been pointing at a spot just lower than her heart.

"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up," John said savagely as Lexi watched them, panting as she bent over slightly clutching her side.

"Isn't he sweet? I can see why you two like having him around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets," Moriarty told Sherlock and Lexi. Grimacing angrily, John pulled him even closer onto the bomb that was now sandwiched between them. Jim scowled round at him. "They're so touchingly loyal. But, oops!" Moriarty said as he grinned briefly at John, then looked towards Sherlock. "You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson," Moriarty continued and he chuckled as a new laser point appeared in the middle of Sherlock's forehead and right over Lexi's heart. John stared in horror as Jim looked round at him expectantly. Sherlock, saw the edge of the laser beam shining from the gallery and realized what was happening from John's expression before he turned and saw that Lexi had the sniper laser trained on her as well. Sherlock shook his head slightly at John. "Gotcha!" Moriarty said in a sing-song voice. He chuckled as John released his grip on him and stepped back, holding his hands up to signal to the sniper that he wouldn't be trying anything else. Jim glanced round at him, then turned back towards Sherlock and Lexi, who was trying to stand up straight and was failing now as she held her side, while brushing his hands down his suit to straighten it. He gestured to it indignantly. "Westwood!" Moriarty said as he lowered his hands and stood calmly in front of Lexi and Sherlock who was still aiming the pistol at his head. "D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, Lexi, to you?" Moriarty asked them, flicking his gaze over to Lexi who glared back at him coldly, a look in her eyes that Sherlock never wanted to see again.

"Oh, let me guess, we get killed," Sherlock said boredly as Lexi snorted and rolled her eyes.

"How very typical and cliché of you. I would have expected something with a little more flare for the dramatic from you," Lexi scoffed and Moriarty eyed her with a murderous look.

"Kill you?" Moriarty grimaced as he looked back at Sherlock. "N-no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway someday. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you," Moriarty told the two detectives as he ran his eyes briefly down Sherlock and Lexi's bodies, then met their eyes again and his voice became vicious. "I'll burn the heart out of you," He told Sherlock before turning to Lexi. "And when I'm done with you, you will wish you didn't have one," He told her as they stared each other down. Moriarty's face had turned into snarl as he said the word 'heart' but at the end of the sentence he looked almost regretful.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one," Sherlock told Moriarty softly in reference to him "burning" the heart out of him.

"But we both know that's not quite true," Moriarty told him as his gaze flicked over to Lexi first and he smirked at her before looking back at John. Sherlock blinked involuntarily and Jim looked down, smiling, then shrugged. "Well, I'd better be off," Moriarty told them as he nonchalantly looked around, perhaps checking his exit route, before turning back to Sherlock and Lexi. "Well, so nice to have had a proper chat," Moriarty told them and Sherlock raised the pistol higher and extended it closer to Jim's head.

"What if I was to shoot you now – right now?" Sherlock asked him as Lexi looked over at him for the first time in the last few minutes.

"I would thank you for that," Lexi told the consulting detective who blinked slightly at how honest she was being. She really did want him to shoot Moriarty.

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face," Moriarty told Sherlock, ignoring what Lexi had said seemingly completely unperturbed by both of them. He opened his eyes and mouth wide, mimicking surprise, then grinned at the two detectives. "'Cos I'd be surprised, Sherlock; really I would," Moriarty said as he screwed up his nose. "And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long," Moriarty told the pair as he slowly began to turn away. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes. Beannacht maith Lexi MacKenna [Good bye]," Moriarty told them, switching into Gaelic as he looked back at Sherlock and Lexi with some distaste. He walked calmly towards the side door which Lexi came through earlier. Sherlock slowly stepped forward to keep him in his sights.

"Catch ... you ... later," Sherlock told him as the door opened and Jim's voice could be heard, high-pitched and sing-song responding.

"No you won't!" He sang as the door closed.

**2012**

**Sherlock's POV**

Sherlock walked into the front room he was directed to and took off his coat before taking a seat on the sofa in the elegant sitting room. He looked around the room his hand fidgeting nervously at his side. While he was making it seem like he was perfectly okay with Lexi not being there, inside he was worrying about her. John said Mycroft had asked to speak with her alone. Sherlock didn't like that. Mycroft had no reason to talk to her alone. He would have stayed behind to wait for her, but he didn't want John to think that he couldn't do something without her or for Lexi to think he was clingy so he had left as she had suggested. He stalled at Baker Street hoping Lexi would catch up with them there rather than at Irene's but she had just texted John to let them know she would meet them at Irene's soon. It hurt a bit that she texted John rather than him. He would talk to her later, make sure everything was alright between them. He thought it was, but she had been agitated back at the Palace when they were talking to Mycroft. She also seemed to know who Irene Adler was and did not seem to like her. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Sherlock quickly sat up a little and held his handkerchief to his cheek which still smelt like Lexi as he had sprayed a bit of her perfume on it though he would never admit that he had. Lexi wore a light perfume on occasion which had fruity and floral scent to it. He had come to notice that she seemed to gravitate more to those two type of scents, keeping for lighter fragrances that didn't overwhelm the senses. He didn't wear anything for that reason and John's cheap and foul smelling cologne was enough of a deterrent if he ever got any ideas about wearing any type of artificial scent himself. He did however notice that Lexi often buried her face in his neck however which was a tell-tale sign that she found his natural scent appealing. He was sure that there had been some study done on it about how that related to how you were physically and sexually attracted to the person of your held desires He would have to do some research on it.

"Hello. Sorry to hear that you've been hurt. I don't think Kate caught your name," A woman told him as she walked into the room, catching Sherlock's attention.

"I'm so sorry. I'm...," Sherlock began as he turned and looked at Irene as she walked into view and stopped at the doorway. His voice failed him when he realised that, with the exception of high-heeled shoes, she was stark naked. His jaw dropped a little, not because of her nudity, but because of the thought that went through his head when he had first seen her. For a moment he had thought she was Lexi until he realized it was Irene as he had been expecting her to get here soon. When he registered that she was naked he was surprised that his first thought had gone to it being Lexi naked. Why she would be naked in a situation like this, Sherlock couldn't guess, but that his mind had first jumped to that was a little startling for the consulting detective who swallowed thickly.

"Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright, isn't it?" Irene asked him as she walked into the room and stood directly in front of him, straddling his legs and half-kneeling on the sofa before she reached forward and pulled the white dog collar from his shirt collar. Sherlock looked up at her face not even feeling a want to look any lower. The only woman who ever had interested him in that way was Lexi though he hated to admit that he felt such cavemen base needs around her which was why he was taking things slowly with her and keeping their kisses chaste. He didn't want to push her further than she might be ready for or frighten her off by being too exuberant. He also didn't want to be too forward with her or miss read something…it was all messy which was why he didn't do relationships in the first place, they were too complicated. He understood that like him she had never had a relationship before and he was not going to mess things up with her, though that was a fear of his. That he wouldn't be enough for her or she would come to her senses and realize she could find someone better than him or that even he might do something to mess things up like he always seemed to do. "There now – we're both defrocked…," Irene said, drawing Sherlock out of his thoughts about Lexi as she smiled down at him. "... Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"Miss Adler, I presume," Sherlock said, dropping the persona he had put on and talking to her in his normal voice. He could see why Lexi didn't seem to like her already. There was just something about her, even if he couldn't place exactly what yet.

"Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?" Irene asked him as she gazed down at his face, narrowing her eyes as she lifted the white plastic to her mouth and bit down on it. Sherlock stared up at her in confusion not understanding what exactly she would like to try. Nothing ever made sense with other women that weren't Lexi. He could always understand what Lexi meant even when she was joking or being sarcastic. He could understand Lexi. That was the difference between her and Irene. John walked into the room just then carrying a bowl of water and a fabric napkin and Sherlock looked at him briefly out of the corner of his eye and saw that he had his eyes lowered to the bowl to avoid spilling its contents. Ah John! John would know what to do. John would fix this and get this infernal woman off of him.

"Right, this should do it," John said before he stopped dead in the doorway as he lifted his eyes and saw the scene in front of him. Irene looked round to him, the dog collar still in her teeth. John looked at her awkwardly, then down at the bowl before looking up again, a slight frown on his face. "I've missed something, haven't I?" John asked as Irene took the collar from her teeth.

"Please, sit down," Irene told him as she stepped back from Sherlock, who fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa as she walked away. He was glad that she finally had. He didn't like her being that close to him. She wasn't Lexi. Now Lexi he liked having close to him, in fact he rather wished she was there right now. He found that he liked to cuddle with Lexi and she let him which made him happy. "Oh, if you'd like some tea I can call the maid," Irene said drawing Sherlock's thoughts away from his Irish detective again which irritated him slightly.

"I had some at the Palace," Sherlock told her just a bit snappishly in his irritation.

"I know," Irene told him as she sat down in a nearby armchair and crossed her legs, folding her arms gracefully to obscure the view of her chest. Not that this really preserved any of her modesty. It was very easy to see what Lexi's problem had been with her.

"Clearly," Sherlock quipped back and he and Irene stared silently at each other for several seconds, weighing each other up. This was not like the looks that Sherlock and Lexi shared, this was completely predatory as they sized each other up. John looked at them awkwardly as he stood in the doorway.

"I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone's interested," John told them and Sherlock's eyes remained fixed on Irene as he tried to make up any deduction he could about her. He came up with nothing, nothing at all. It was absolutely blank. He would never admit it but that was exactly what he had seen with Lexi when he first met her. He could only make small guesses about her after studying her closely and talking with her but all of his deductions about her had only been logical guesses. He could read her and he couldn't read Irene either.

**John's POV**

Sometime later John was sitting beside the pilot who was taking him God only knows where. John frowned and looked down as the helicopter flew over London. As it approached Buckingham Palace the pilot began to speak into his coms and got clearance to land. What the bloody hell was going on? More importantly, what had Lexi and Sherlock done? Not long after they had landed, John was shown through the palace and into an enormous ornate hall with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He looked around for a moment in awe wondering just how Lexi actually managed to break into a place like this. He had seen a lot of security on his way in and he wondered if some of that had been put into place after Lexi had gotten in or before. John followed his escort who gestured him into a nearby room before walking away. On a small round table in the middle of the room were two piles of clothes and shoes one of which obviously belonged to Sherlock and the other which clearly belonged to Lexi. There was a sofa on either side of the table and sitting on the left-hand one was Sherlock, still wrapped in his sheet, and Lexi who was sitting next to him still only dressed in Sherlock's robe. They both looked across to John calmly as he entered the room and Lexi smirked slightly at the army doctor. John held out his hands in a "What the hell?!" gesture and Sherlock and Lexi shrugged disinterestedly and looked away again. Nodding in a resigned way, John walked slowly into the room, then sat down on the sofa beside Lexi feeling slightly uncomfortable and awkward. He gazed in front of himself for a moment, chewing back a giggle, looked around the room again, and then looked at Sherlock and Lexi, peering closely at Sherlock's sheet, particularly the section wrapped around his backside. He was very careful not to look over at Lexi for too long, not needing to see anything on her. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her legs crossed at her feet which told him everything he needed to know. He turned his head away from them again.

"Are you two wearing any pants?" John asked the both of them and Lexi bit her lip, holding back a grin.

"No," Sherlock said as Lexi shook her head.

"Nope," She confirmed, popping the p in the word slightly as she grinned a bit, not looking at Sherlock as the three of them stared straight ahead.

"Okay," John said as he sighed quietly. A moment later Sherlock turned and looked at him from across Lexi just as John also turned to look at the both of them as Lexi also turned to face the army doctor. Their eyes meet and they promptly burst out laughing. John gestured around the building. "At Buckingham Palace, fine," John said as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh, I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray," John said and Sherlock and Lexi chuckled again, Sherlock's deep baritone a large contrast from Lexi's higher pitched laugh. "What are we doing here, Sherlock, Lexi? Seriously, what?" John asked the two detectives.

"I don't know," Sherlock said, still smiling as was Lexi.

"I have a theory," Lexi said, frowning only slightly.

"Here to see the Queen?" John asked them and at that moment Mycroft walked in from the next room.

"Oh, apparently yes," Sherlock said as John cracked up again and Sherlock and Lexi promptly joined in. The two of them continued to giggle as Mycroft looked at them in exasperation.

"Just once, can you three behave like grown-ups?" Mycroft asked them in exasperation as Lexi fixed him with a look and shook her head, grinning at him.

"We solve crimes, I blog about it, they forget their pants, and Lexi makes witty comments to murderers and psychopaths, so I wouldn't hold out too much hope," John told Mycroft as Sherlock looked up at his brother as he walked into the room, all humour gone from his face.

**Sherlock's POV**

"He would have killed me. It was self-defence in advance," Irene told him as she walked across to him and stroked her hand down his left arm. As he looked down at her hand, not liking her touching him, she stepped around behind him and stabbed him suddenly with one of the syringes into his right arm. He gasped and spun around, trying to grab at his arm.

"What? What is that? What...?" Sherlock asked her as he turned his face turns towards her again and she slapped him hard. He stumbled and fell to the floor as she held out her hand to him.

"Give it to me. Now. Give it to me," Irene demanded as Sherlock's vision started to go fuzzy. Grunting, he tried to get back to his feet.

"No," He told her as he blinked, trying to right himself.

"Give it to me," Irene demanded again as Sherlock started to lose control of his muscles and therefore slumped to his hands and knees, still holding onto the phone.

"No," Sherlock told her again.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Irene said as she picked up her riding crop from the dressing table and wield it at him. "Drop it," Irene ordered as Sherlock continued trying to struggle to his feet. "I ...," Irene said as she thrashed him "... said ...," She continued as she trashed him again. "...drop it." Irene finished about ready to strike him for a third time but Lexi caught her wrist and twisted it before she could. Irene cried out in pain as she dropped the riding crop as Lexi glared at her. Irene reacted quickly and stabbed Lexi in the arm quickly with the second syringe. Lexi hissed and twisted Irene's arm slightly more before Irene shoved the disoriented girl away from her so that Lexi ended up stumbling and falling right next to Sherlock who reached for her, unintentionally dropping the phone.

"Ah. Thank you, dear," Irene remarked as Sherlock laid on his back next to Lexi the both of them unable to move. Irene picked up the phone and typed on it, standing over Sherlock and Lexi and looking down at them smugly. "Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. They're not for blackmail, just for insurance," Irene said as she put the phone into the pocket of Sherlock's coat which she was still wearing. "Besides, I might want to see her again," Irene told them as Sherlock grunted and tried to get up. Whatever Irene had given them had made Lexi unable to move in the slightest, no matter how much she tried. Irene pressed Sherlock back down to the floor with one foot and the end of her crop which she had picked up again just in case she needed it. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. It's been a pleasure. Don't spoil it," Irene told him as she gently stroked the end of the crop against his face. "This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you," Irene said before she smirked and brought her riding crop down on Lexi's shoulder once. "And I have beaten you Alexandria. You would do well to remember that," Irene said as Sherlock's vision became fuzzier. "Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes," Irene said before she looked at Lexi again. "Good bye Alexandria MacKenna. I'd say it's been a pleasure but then I would be lying," Irene said as she headed for the bathroom just as John walked back into the bedroom.

"Jesus. What are you doing?" John asked Irene as he saw both of his friends laying on the floor.

"They'll sleep for a few hours. Make sure they don't choke on their own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse," Irene told John as she sat on the windowsill in the bathroom, putting her feet up on the edge of the bath, and taking hold of a cord hanging from the ledge.

"What's this? What have you given them? Sherlock! Lexi!" John asked as he knelt down next to them picking up the syringes lying on the floor beside them.

"They'll be fine. I've used it on loads of my friends," Irene told him as John knelt down on his knees next to Sherlock and Lexi.

"Sherlock, can you hear me? Lexi can you open your eyes?" John asked as he checked over his friends, Lexi's eyes slightly open as she slowly moved her gaze up to him.

"You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look or at least he did in the end," Irene told John who stood up again and turned to her.

"For what? What are you talking about?" John asked her in confusion, feeling very angry now that Irene had hurt both of his friends.

"The key code to my safe. He noticed it too, but Alexandria always knows my methods. She does like to take the fun out of everything," Irene remarked as she flicked her gaze down to Lexi and sneered at the now unconscious girl.

"What was it?" John asked Irene as she looked down to Sherlock who was gazing at her barely conscious but still trying in vain to get up.

"Shall I tell him?" Irene asked Sherlock and John looked down at him for a moment then turned back to Irene just as sirens announced the arrival of the police. Irene smiled at him. "My measurements," Irene told him and with that she pushed her feet against the edge of the bath and toppled backwards out of the window, still holding what looked like a cord but was apparently more like a thin rope. John hurried over to the window and looked out while Sherlock still tried vainly to lift himself up but continued to fall back helplessly. And that was the beginning of what was about to be the start of the breaking of Lexi MacKenna.

**Lexi's POV**

The three of us rushed out to Dewer's Hollow where we knew Henry would return to. It was where this had all started. Thankfully for us the Hollow was not that far from Baskerville which made even more sense. I had a theory but I needed a few things confirmed first before I could say if I was right or not. We raced across the terrain in the Land Rover and Sherlock pulled up where the woods begin. The three of us got out of the car and continued on foot, racing through the trees and the undergrowth to get to the Hollow. Sherlock had one of my hands and he was helping to led me through the overgrown forest while I had John's hand it mine as he ran behind me. We made it to the Hollow and I breathed heavily as I heard Henry's voice ahead of us in the bottom of the valley.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad," I heard Henry say and we reached the top of the Hollow to find Henry squatted down with a pistol pointed into his open mouth.

"No, Henry, no! No!" Sherlock shouted at him as the three of us scrambled down the slope, shining our torches at him. Henry stood up and stumbled backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in our direction.

"Get back. Get – get away from me!" Henry ordered us his voice high-pitched and hysterical.

"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax," John told him, trying to calm the man down as he kept his eyes trained on the gun in Henry's hands. I knew we had to get him to put the gun down and quickly. I was not against shooting him in the arm to get him to drop the gun.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" Henry shouted at us as I reached towards my bag, standing slightly behind Sherlock so that Henry wouldn't see what I was doing.

"Just put the gun down. It's okay," John told him pacifyingly, using a calm voice. That was the best thing to do. Stay calm and don't let your voice raise even a little bit.

"No, no, I know what I am!" Henry shouted at us his voice hoarse with anguish.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it – explained very carefully," Sherlock told him reassuringly as I held my gun behind my back, waiting.

"What?" Henry asked in confusion and Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me, asking for my help in the matter.

"Someone needed to keep you quiet Henry so you wouldn't talk about what you had seen. They needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to for so long, because you had started to remember. You are remembering. Since we've gotten here it's become clearer hasn't it? You remembered the words," I told Henry calmly as Sherlock and I cautiously stepped closer to him.

"Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy," Sherlock told him and Henry's gun hand began to droop momentarily but then he raised it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.

"I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought ...," Henry told us before he lost control and began to scream in anguish. "Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't – I don't know any more!" Henry sobbed before he bent forward and aimed the muzzle into his mouth again.

"No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!" John shouted lurching forward towards him.

"Henry, remember. "Liberty In." Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago," Sherlock told him urgently and Henry began to calm a little but he still remained hunched over with the gun's muzzle against his mouth.

"Henry, you started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night, what you tried to forget. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry? That wasn't what you saw. It was something else entirely," I said quickly and Henry straightened up, blinking.

"Not a monster," Sherlock told Henry who turned to look at him. "A man."

Henry's eyes widened as no doubt the memories came back to him. Of what he really saw here in the Hollow. His father was scrabbling at the ground trying to get away from his attacker, but I wasn't some monstrous hound that had him but a man wearing a dark leather old-fashioned gas mask. The glass of the two large eye pieces were tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the eye pieces seemed to be glowing. That was what Henry had seen and he had watched from partway up the slope, cringing and terrified as the attacker pummelled at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at his face. Mr. Knight probably managed to pull himself from under his assailant and started to crawl away but the other man growled fiercely, a sound that Henry had so ingrained into his psyche, and would have tugged him backwards and Henry's father lost his balance and fell forward. His head struck a rock and he collapsed to the ground unmoving, he fell and he died. And after is attacker realized that Mr. Knight was dead and he stopped, Henry saw the sweatshirt he was wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters H.O.U.N.D. underneath, and "Liberty, In" below them. Henry's mind would have begun to mix everything up and, some hours later when he met the old lady walking her dog, his new horror was complete and he screamed in utter terror because it finally got ingrained in his mind that he saw a hound that didn't exist. It was the drug, it made people highly suggestible. How Henry got dosed with it I was still unsure about but here in the present as Henry gaped at Sherlock and me, the truth finally reasserted itself in Henry's mind.

"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said," Sherlock told Henry. Quietly John stepped forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry as Lestrade arrived and called out while he trotted down the slope towards us.

"Sherlock! Lexi!" Lestrade called as John worked to convince Henry to give the gun over to him.

"Okay, it's okay, mate," John told Henry gently and he looked over at me and I nodded at him.

"It's alright now Henry," I told him and he nodded as John carefully took the pistol from Henry's fingers.

"But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw ...," Henry told Sherlock and I tearfully.

"Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. The three of us saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that's how it works," Sherlock told Henry who stared at us in confusion and Sherlock returned his look sympathetically. "But there never was any monster," Sherlock told him and then, suddenly, an anguished howl rang out in the woods above us. We all snapped our heads up and John and Greg aimed their flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape was slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.

"Sherlock ...," John called as he and I both stared up at the thing in disbelief as Henry turned to us, horrified.

"No," Henry said and he began to wail in panic. "No, no, no, no!" Henry shouted and he backed away as Sherlock tried simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above us.

"Henry, Henry ...," Sherlock said as I raised my gun up towards the thing.

"Henry, remember what I promised you!" I shouted to him as he looked back at me in terror and while I was just as afraid as Sherlock seemed to be I was keeping a level head. Sherlock and I stood next to each other as I watched the thing closely.

"Sherlock ...Lexi…," John breathed as the creature continued to slink along the rim of the Hollow. Henry began to scream in abject terror and he crumpled to his knees, continually screaming, "No!" "Henry!" John shouted as the hound turned towards the Hollow and looked down at us, snarling viciously. Its eyes glowed in the torchlight as Henry continued to wail.

"Shit!" Lestrade swore as he stared up at the rim and John turned and shined his torch into his face.

"Greg, are you seeing this?" John asked him in shock and Greg glanced at him momentarily and his expression answered the question. Sherlock took a quick look around at Lestrade like I had to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound. "Right, he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what's that? What is it?!" John shouted to us, sounding terrified.

As Henry continued to wail behind us, Sherlock screwed his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to handle the overload in his mind before he stared upwards again. He was drugged though. We all were. Air dispersal. That was what the drug was. The fog in the Hollow, Fletcher mentioned it said you got a bad feeling around the place that it was eerie. It wasn't Henry's sugar that was drugged it was the Hollow. Every time he went to the Hollow he started seeing it, he went back to the Hollow during the day time to try and face his demons as his psychologist wanted him too. Henry's father knew too much. Henry said that they took a walk across the moors every night, they went to the Hollow. It was predictable, Frankland could have set up the drug as a way to confuse his father to test it out but when it wasn't working like he thought it was going to. They fought and in the struggle Henry's dad fell, hit his head and died, but what if Frankland never removed the air dispersal technique? Every time Henry came to the Hollow he was getting drugged again which reasserted the lie. When he was gone he got better, more in control but he still believed in what he had seen. When Fletcher came to the Hollow he also got drugged and he knew what Henry claimed to have seen so he saw it too. Plant a few footprints for someone to find and it works to reassert the story more. This was years of trying to hide the truth.

"All right! It's still here ...," Sherlock shouted, breaking me out of my thoughts. He panted heavily for a moment before pulling himself together "...but it's just a dog. Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog!" Sherlock shouted as the hound raised its head and let out a long terrifying howl.

"Oh my God," Lestrade exclaimed, stumbling backwards as the hound turned and leapt a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the torchlight. "Oh, Christ!" Lestrade shouted.

John stared at it as it stopped again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opened its mouth and revealed a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl was completely terrifying. Henry had fallen silent, gazing up at it as if he thought that it is going to kill him shortly. Sherlock seemed to still be trying to believe what his own eyes were telling him ... and now there was movement behind us. Sherlock and I turned and looked over our shoulders and we both saw a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival was wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. We turned and rushed towards him together and Sherlock grabbed at the mask, ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man's face ... and Jim Moriarty grinned manically back at us. I cried out in shock and terror as I stumbled back from him.

"No!" Sherlock shouted, staring at him in appalled horror. Behind us the hound growled ominously again. Jim's expression became intense and murderous but then his head began to distort and flail about, morphing between Jim's face and someone else's so quickly that it was impossible to keep up with the changes. Sherlock grimaced, groaning at the insanity going on in front of is while Jim's face keeps reasserting itself.

"It's not him Sherlock! He's not here!" I shouted at Sherlock frantically as I realized that it was only our mind playing tricks on us. I knew that he was seeing the same thing as I was from the look on his face. He told me after we faced Moriarty that he had only ever been afraid of one man in his life and that was Moriarty. He was afraid of him not only because of what he had done to me, but also because it of what he could possibly do. It was the one time we got that close to almost losing each other or John. "Sherlock! It's not him!" I shouted again and Sherlock broke out of and grabbed at the figure. He spun him around and then headbutted him in the face. The figure crumpled slightly and raised his hand to his face as he straightened up ... and now the man in front of us was Bob Frankland. Sherlock clung onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic ... but then he turned his head to one side and looked at the mist surrounding us as suddenly it all begins to make sense to him and I realized that he had come to the same conclusion that I had.

"The fog," Sherlock said and I nodded at him as I pointed my gun at Frankland.

"What?" John asked us in confusion, still aiming his torch up at the hound.

"It's the fog!" Sherlock shouted as I flicked my gaze around to the hound, not sure what was more of a threat right now. I went with the hound, Sherlock had Frankland.

"The drug, it's in the fog!" I shouted across to Greg and John as I breathed in through my mouth, trying to slow down my heart rate. The faster we breathed because we were scared, the more quickly we were breathing, the more of the stuff we were breathing in.

"Aerosol dispersal – that's what it said in those records. Project HOUND – it's the fog! A chemical minefield!" Sherlock shouted and Greg instantly threw his arm across his face, trying to stop himself from breathing too much of the mist. The hound stalked closer to us, snarling.

"For God's sake, kill it! Kill it!" Frankland shouted and from the note of terror in his voice I could tell that it was actually real what we were seeing. They said they put the dog down, but they hadn't. People lie to save themselves just as Frankland had made Henry believe a lie to save his own sorry ass. The hound's movements become jitterier as if it was winding itself up to attack. Greg aimed his pistol and fired three times at it. His bullets flew past it and it flinched momentarily but then it raised up and leapt towards us. John aimed his own gun at it and fired as I also shot at the hound. Our aim was truer and our bullets hit the hound accurately and threw it backwards. It squealed in pain and crashed to the ground, unmoving. John and Greg watched it anxiously for any signs of movement, and Sherlock ran over to Henry and pushed him towards the hound. As I lowered my gun and stood there, breathing heavily as I watched Sherlock.

"Look at it, Henry," Sherlock told him, trying to show him the truth.

"No, no, no!" Henry shouted, digging his heels in.

"Come on, look at it!" Sherlock ordered him, shoving him forward determinedly. He bullied the young man forward until they could both clearly see the hound lying on the ground. In Sherlock's torchlight it was clearly nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stared at it for a moment and then turned back to where Frankland was still holding his injured face. I had stepped closer to John at this point, distancing myself from Frankland. Greg still had his hands over his mouth as he tried to draw breath and come to terms with what he just experienced. Henry looked over to Frankland as the truth finally was revealed to him.

"It's just ... You bastard," Henry said before he hurled himself at the older man, screaming with rage. "You bastard!" Henry shouted at him, bundling him to the ground. He screamed into his face while John and Greg ran over and tried to pull him off. "Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just kill me?!" Henry shouted as they finally managed to pull him off of Frankland.

"Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you," Sherlock told Henry as he put and arm on the small of my back, assuring himself that I was oaky as he rubbed meaningless circles onto my back.

"He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father Henry. He had to make you believe the lie and he had the means right at his feet, a chemical minefield. Theirs pressure pads in the ground. They dosed you with the drug every time that you came back here. If you died, if everyone thought the hound had killed you too and they found your body when they had never found your fathers, everyone would believe in the hound too. Nobody would ever suspect that he had done anything. He was using you to cover his own tracks up," I told Henry having figured that part out finally. Sherlock held his arms out wide and spun slowly in a circle beside me, gesturing around the Hollow.

"Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once," Sherlock said and he laughed with delight as I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant," Sherlock told the young man.

"Sherlock ...," John said as I gave Sherlock a pointed look.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he turned to the army doctor who glared at him pointedly.

"Timing," John told him and Sherlock frowned in confusion.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked him and I shook my head at him fondly.

"Just a bit love," I told him and he looked at me sheepishly.

"No, no, it's – it's okay. It's fine, because this means ...," Henry said and he started to step towards Frankland. John moved with him, ready to intervene if he tried to attack him again. "...this means that my dad was right," Henry said and Frankland got up onto his knees as Henry still tried to move towards him. John and Greg both put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back. "He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you'd killed him – because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment," Henry said tearfully.

Frankland got to his feet but before he could say anything there was a savage snarl from behind the group. We all spun towards the dog the as it whined in pain but got up off the ground. John aimed and fired towards it twice and it went down again. Frankland took the opportunity of the distraction to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Sherlock, being a bit of an idiot though I loved him despite this, ran right across John's line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chased off after the scientist. I took off at a run with my gun, catching up to Sherlock and even running past him. I didn't run after murderers for nothing. John followed behind us as Sherlock shouted at Frankland.

"Frankland!" Sherlock shouted as he ran through the woods with Sherlock, John, and I in hot pursuit, Greg and Henry a little behind us. "Frankland!" Sherlock shouted again as I took a deep breath and put on a burst of speed.

"Come on, keep up!" Lestrade shouted to Henry.

"It's no use, Frankland!" Sherlock shouted at the scientist.

Reaching the barbed wire fence surrounding the minefield, Frankland didn't hesitate and jumped over. His feet tangled in the wire and he fell to the ground on the other side. He jumped up but before he could get in further, I didn't hesitate to shoot Frankland. He cried out in pain before he fell to his knees and we all stopped short as I lowered my gun, breathing heavily. Sherlock, John, and Greg stared at me as I nodded.

"Well, that was interesting," I told them as I caught my breath and Sherlock chuckled slightly. "Who wants to go and collect him?" I asked as Sherlock pulled me to his chest and checked me over quickly to see if I was hurt in anyway. "I'm fine," I assured him before I grabbed his hand that was roaming as he checked for injuries and held it in my own as he met my eyes. "I'm fine," I told him again and he looked down at me and nodded before I pushed up on my toes as he bent down and gave me a quick kiss.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I walked out onto the roof of the hospital together. Daylight had finally come and this was us, facing Moriarty for possibly the last time. He was waiting for us too, back in his typical smart suit and overcoat with his hair slicked back. He was calmly sitting on the raised ledge at the edge of the building with his phone in his hand while The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" played from it. He didn't look at Sherlock or me as we came up onto the roof and walked towards him. He was casual, even now. That was Moriarty and something I had come to learn. He didn't feel fear. It was a completely foreign concept to him. No matter what Sherlock or I ever did, he would never feel fear even if I were to kill him myself on this rooftop. And that was what made him so dangerous. I didn't fear him anymore though. He was just a man. Fear of the name, well, I wouldn't call him Moriarty anymore. He was simply Jim in my eyes. I still feared what he could do because I knew that like us he was prepared to do anything but I could never be afraid of him anymore. There were many more things I feared these days.

"Ah. Here we are at last – you two and me, Sherlock, Lexi, and our problem – the final problem," Moriarty said and he held his phone up higher. Well he had officially ruined that song for me forever. "Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Moriarty continued in a bit of a singsong voice before he angrily switched off his phone. "It's just ...," Moriarty said as he held his hand out flat with the palm down and skimmed it slowly through the air level to the roof "... staying," Moriarty said and he pulled his hand back and briefly sunk his head into it while Sherlock paced around the roof just in front of me. I knew that he was keeping himself between me and Moriarty and his gaze, while staying trained on Moriarty, also flicked to me as I watched the consulting criminal wearily. "All my life I've been searching for distractions. You two were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you two," Moriarty said and Sherlock's head turned sharply to him as he continued to pace. "And you know what? In the end it was easy," Moriarty told us and Sherlock stopped beside me and folded his hands behind his back. I kept my hands loosely at my sides, seemingly relaxed but Sherlock looked to my shoulders and I knew that he knew I was very tense right now. "It was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people," Moriarty said, his face pulling an expression as if this would physically pain him. "And it turns out you two are ordinary just like all of them," Moriarty said quietly in disappointment. He lowered his head again and rubbed his face before looking up at Sherlock and me. "Ah well," Moriarty said in a singsong voice as he stood up and walked closer to us before he started to slowly pace around us. I moved my hands behind my back, mimicking Sherlock's posture as I watched Moriarty, not turning my head to look at him, but waiting and listening. "Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?" Moriarty asked us, pausing to look at Sherlock as he said real and pausing before me as he said get you.

"No the bruise on your face was proof enough for me. Though lovely job with the acting," I told Moriarty and he smirked at me and nodded at my sarcastic compliment.

"Richard Brook," Sherlock said, giving me a side long look before he turned and gazed out over London again.

"Nobody seems to get the joke, but you two do," Moriarty told us and I nodded once at him as I met his gaze.

"Of course," Sherlock answered him as I said, "Elementary."

"Attaboy," Moriarty told Sherlock while he just smirked at me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made our name," Sherlock told Moriarty as the consulting criminal continued to circle us in an almost predatory way.

"Just tryin' to have some fun," Moriarty told us in a fake American accent and I laughed at that, drawing Moriarty's attention as Sherlock flicked his gaze to me again.

"All you had to do was ask. I think you'd like my kind of fun," I told Moriarty threateningly and he giggled as he stopped and looked at me dead in the eye. My kind of fun would have left him dead and maimed. I would find a way to murder him if nothing but for the satisfaction of it.

"Oooh when did you get to be so violent?" Moriarty asked me in amusement, flicking his gaze over to Sherlock and raising his eyebrow before he looked back at me. I narrowed my eyes at Moriarty, sizing him up and I knew that if it was him and me alone, I could take him. We were both Irish. Most likely he knew some of the same tricks I did. He had strength to his advantage but I had my size. I was quick and nimble. He was too, but I could probably take him down if I bided my time and played it smart instead of letting my anger get the better of me.

"Hmmm, let me think was it at the pool or when you thought you could use Ms. Adler against us?" I asked Moriarty, tilting my head to side as if I was thinking. "No, it most certainly was the pool. I told you. I'm not playing games anymore," I told Moriarty dangerously and he leaned in towards me with a smirk on his face.

"I can see that," Moriarty told me in amusement before he started to pace around us again. He looked down to Sherlock's hands and saw that he was tapping out a rhythm with his fingers. I frowned for a moment when I watched the pattern again and started taping the rhythm out on my leg. Something was off about it, something I didn't notice before. Something that I should have noticed before.

"Good. You got that too," Moriarty told us as my frown deepened.

"Beats like digits," Sherlock told Moriarty as I went through the pattern again. Not digits, finger movements. Keys, finger spacing, piano. "Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That's why all those assassins tried to save our lives. It was hidden on us; hidden inside our heads – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system," Sherlock continued as I closed my eyes and tried to figure this out.

"I told all my clients, last one to Sherlock and Lexi is a sissy," Moriarty said and his tone of voice was slightly off, not taunting like I would have suspected, now he sounded slightly disappointed almost bored.

"Yes, but now that it's up here, I can use it to alter all the records. We can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty," Sherlock said, gesturing to his own head and smiling ever so slightly. Moriarty gazed at him for a moment, then turned away with a disappointed look on his face. I was right, we had gotten something wrong.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy," Moriarty said, closing his eyes as he buried his head in his hands. "This is too easy," Moriarty repeated in despair as he lowered his hands and turned back to Sherlock. "There is no key, DOOFUS!" Moriarty said, screaming the last word into Sherlock's face and I fought against flinching. "Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. She's figured it out already though, didn't you Lexi?" Moriarty asked me and I nodded once as Sherlock couldn't hide the confused look on his face. "You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed," Moriarty told Sherlock and he turned away from us and lumbered across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continued speaking. "I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock."

"But the rhythm ...," Sherlock said in confusion, trailing off as I put a hand on his arm and looked at Moriarty.

""Partita number one." I should have realized it sooner. You are a fan of his work though I prefer Brahms," I told Moriarty and he raised his hands in the air. I should have realized it sooner. It was my fault and this little slip up could have cost us something.

"Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach," Moriarty cried skyward before he turned around and lowered his arms angrily.

"But then how did ...," Sherlock asked Moriarty, still sounding confused but Moriarty spoke over him. I was just putting the pieces together myself, thing I should have realized before but we had taken what we saw, what we had been told so literally, never once thinking about another alternative.

"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison?" Moriarty asked us as he turned and spread his arms wide before looking at me. "Care to explain Lexi, my dear? I'm dying to hear your thoughts, quite literally dying. I thought you were ordinary, but you aren't, you know. When did you begin to guess?" Moriarty asked me and I looked over at him, squeezing Sherlock's arm slightly before I answered the consulting criminal.

"From the beginning I always wondered if something was off about the keycode. A keycode that can unlock any door? I would have found one if it was possible, but it isn't. There's always some system you can't bypass and some back door you can't find. Then there was the fact that there wasn't even a trace of it, not even a whisper. There were two possibilities for that, either the code was so advanced that I couldn't find it or there never was a code to begin with. You said in our flat that you had already told us, asked us if we were listening and you had, but it wasn't about the keycode. "Every person has a pressure point; someone they want to protect from harm."" I told Moriarty, reciting the last part from memory as I finally connected the dots and saw all of the patterns. "Daylight robbery, you convinced people to help you and they were all too willing because you threatened them just like you did the jury," I finished and Moriarty raised his hands and started to clap slowly as I eyed him wearily.

"You're clever," Moriarty said, pointing at me accusingly before he looked at Sherlock with a smirk on his face. "Isn't she Sherlock, more clever than you at least. "I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you two chose a tall building – nice way to do it," Moriarty told us sounding slightly upset which was hard for me to comprehend and I gritted my teeth. Sherlock had been staring blankly into the distance as I explained everything to him and Moriarty, but now he looked back at the consulting criminal in bewilderment.

"Do it? Do – do what?" Sherlock asked Moriarty as I looked to Sherlock. He blinked as it became clearer to him, his eyebrows raising as he and I turned towards Moriarty. "Yes, of course. Our suicides," Sherlock said, answering his own question.

""Genius detectives proved to be frauds." I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales," Moriarty said as Sherlock reached for my left hand and held it in his own as we walked to the edge of the room together and leaned forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Moriarty waked to stand beside Sherlock and looked over the side as well. "And pretty Grimm ones too," Moriarty finished as he turned his head and looked at Sherlock and I ominously.

**John's POV**

A cab pulled up outside of 221B and John jumped out and hurried towards the door, scrabbling for his keys. Hurrying inside, he saw the tattooed bald workman standing at the top of his stepladder just in front of the stairs, drilling a hole into the wall. Mrs. Hudson was standing nearby watching him. As John ran towards her, she jolted in startlement, having not heard his approach over the sound of the drill.

"Oh, God, John! You made me jump!" Mrs. Hudson told him as she turned round to look at him.

"But ...," John said, staring at her in confusion.

"Is everything okay now with the police? Has, um, Sherlock and Lexi sorted it all out?" Mrs. Hudson asked him and John stared at her for a moment longer before it finally sank in. They wanted him away from Sherlock and Lexi. Something was going to happen to them.

"Oh my God," John said softly, his voice filled with horror. He turned around and ran outside looking up and down the street frantically. Luckily he immediately saw what he needed. "Taxi!" John shouted frantically and a cab began to pull over on the other side of the road. John chased across the road towards it. "Taxi!" John shouted again. A man was standing at the side of the road having also just hailed the cab. As he leaned into the front window to tell the driver his destination, John ran around the cab and pulled open the rear door, talking as he scrambled inside. "No, no, no, no, police! ... Sort of," John told the cabbie and the man.

"Oh, thanks, mate – thanks a lot!" The man shouted at him, walking away angrily. All he could think about was getting to Sherlock and Lexi. Something was seriously wrong.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock, Moriarty and I turned towards each other at the edge of the roof, just staring at each other. "We can still prove that you created an entirely false identity," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone dangerous, as I looked back at the consulting criminal.

"Oh, just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," Moriarty told us wearily, sounding exasperated. Sherlock turned and I turned away and Sherlock began to pace distractedly. "Go on. For me," Moriarty pleaded with us and he made his voice into a high-pitched squeal for the next word. "Pleeeeeease?" Moriarty asked us and in a sudden movement, Sherlock grabbed him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spun him around so that Moriarty's back was to the drop. I took a step towards them and put a hand on the one of the arms Sherlock was holding Moriarty with, stopping him for the most part, but also wanting to be right next to him. Sherlock stared into Moriarty's face as I also looked at the consulting criminal. Sherlock shoved him back one step nearer to the edge and Moriarty looked at us with interest as Sherlock's breathing became shorter.

"You're insane," Sherlock told Moriarty as my grip on his arm tightened, Moriarty just blinked back at us, seemingly unfazed as he raised his arms to his sides slightly.

"You're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked us and I shook my head at him, my hair bouncing around me.

"Oh no, I've always known you were mental," I told Moriarty and Sherlock shoved him further back, now holding him over the edge. Moriarty whooped almost triumphantly and gazed back at us with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp.

"Okay, let me give you two a little extra incentive," Moriarty told us and Sherlock frowned at him as Moriarty's voice became more savage. "Your friends will die if you two don't," Moriarty told us and fear began to creep into Sherlock's eyes as I narrowed my eyes at Moriarty, my heart beating just a bit faster.

"John," Sherlock said in a quiet voice.

"Not just John," Moriarty told us before continuing in a savage whisper. "Everyone."

"Mrs Hudson," Sherlock continued as I shifted closer to Moriarty.

"Everyone" Moriarty told us again in a whisper with a delighted smile on his face as I clenched my free hand into a fist, shaking slightly in anger.

"Lestrade," Sherlock said and Moriarty looked away from him and towards me.

"Everyone," Moriarty hissed dangerously at me.

"Mycroft," I said and Moriarty raised an eyebrow at me and I clenched my teeth and continued. "And Joanna," I added, knowing that he was expecting more from me.

"Five bullets; five gunmen; five victims. There's no stopping them now," Moriarty told us, shaking his head and Sherlock furiously pulled him back upwards to safety. Moriarty stared into his face as I slid my hand into Sherlock's free one now that he only held onto Moriarty with one hand. "Unless my people see you two jump," Moriarty told us and Sherlock gazed past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Moriarty shook himself free of Sherlock's grasp and smiled triumphantly. I glared at Moriarty, gritting my teeth angrily. This was his plan all along. "You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me…," Moriarty said, flashing his smirk at me at that. "…but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only five friends in the world will die ... unless ..." Moriarty said getting in our faces and adding bite to the word unless. He trailed off as he watched us closely.

"...unless we kill ourselves – complete your story," Sherlock finished for him, looking beyond him as I looked out over London as well. Moriarty nodded, smiling ecstatically at us.

"You've gotta admit that's sexier," Moriarty told us, making a face as he did a wild arm gesture and I looked up at Sherlock, biting my lip slightly as I shuddered, remembering when he had used that line before when I was handcuffed to a chair and he was trying to get me to join his side.

"And we die in disgrace," Sherlock said, his gaze distant and lost.

"Of course. That's the point of this," Moriarty told us in a matter of fact tone. He looked over the side and I leaned just a bit and saw that someone had stopped at the benches near the bus stop below us, and several other people were in the vicinity. "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop," Moriarty told us and he rolled his head from side to side on his neck. "Go on," Moriarty told us and we slowly stepped past him and up onto the ledge together. Sherlock's hold on my hand tightened as we stepped up together. "I told you how this ends," Moriarty told us as Sherlock's breathing became shakier as we looked down. I inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering my fear of heights. It never got to me before when I was moving quickly over roof tops. When I was chasing a criminal I had purpose but now I was just staring down at the pavement. "Your deaths are the only thing that's gonna call off the killers. I'm certainly not gonna do it," Moriarty told us, and he turned his head to look up at Sherlock and I expectantly. Sherlock blinked anxiously as I brought by other hand up and clutched his arm tightly.

"Would you give us ... one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" Sherlock asked Moriarty before he glanced down at him. "Please?" Sherlock asked Moriarty who looked disappointed that Sherlock should be so ordinary and ask for something like that.

"Of course. Anything for the happy couple," Moriarty told us as his eyes slid down to my left hand and the ring that rested on my ring finger. "You know, I never did get to tell you congratulations," Moriarty told us with a smirk before he moved away from us across the room. Sherlock took several shallow anxious breaths to calm himself, then he stopped breathing for a moment as he turned slightly and looked at me. I frowned thoughtfully as I saw what he was getting at and our brains kicked into gear again. Sherlock lifted his gaze and his expression became more thoughtful as he looked back at me and I saw my Sherlock. Always thinking of a way out and always brilliant. Slowly a smile spread across his face and he started to chuckle. Behind us, Moriarty was slowly walking across the roof but he stopped, his expression livid, when Sherlock laughed with delight. "What?" Moriarty demanded, spinning around to us furiously and Sherlock continued to laugh. "What is it?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock and I half turned on the ledge, Sherlock smiling towards him as he glared back. I wasn't laughing though. I saw what Sherlock did, but knowing Moriarty he would have expected for some error to occur in his plans. He knew me, he knew I was unpredictable. "What did I miss?" Moriarty asked us angrily and Sherlock hopped down off the ledge before lifting me off of it by the waist and setting me carefully down beside him before we walked closer to Moriarty together.

""You're not going to do it." So the killers can be called off, then – there's a recall code or a word or a number," Sherlock said as we dropped hands and circled Moriarty in opposite directions. "We don't have to die ...," Sherlock told Moriarty before his voice became sing-song. "...if we've got you.

"Oh!" Jim said and he laughed in relieved delight. I eyed him and Sherlock wearily. There was something her that was too easy about it and Moriarty wouldn't let it be easy for us. Sherlock was lowering his guard slightly because he thought he was cleverer than Moriarty. Ego and pride was one of the Holmes' downfalls, but I was on my guard. "You think you can make me stop the order? You think you two can make me do that?" Moriarty asked us, pointing at Sherlock as he past Moriarty and he eyed me as I circled him, calculating several possibilities all at once. My brain worked into high gear as I calculated, recalculated and thought of every move Moriarty could make now.

"Yes. So do you or at least you know Lexi can," Sherlock told Moriarty, flicking his gaze up to me as he continued to circle around the consulting criminal. "You know that she has her methods and as she said, she isn't playing your game anymore," Sherlock added and Moriarty shook his head slightly at that.

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to," Moriarty told us as he tightened his lips and Sherlock stopped, getting into Moriarty's face. I paused as well beside Sherlock, but stayed as far back as I could in my position from Moriarty.

"Yes, but we're not my brother, remember? We are you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want us to shake hands with you in hell? We shall not disappoint you," Sherlock told Moriarty, folding his hands behind his back as I hardened my gaze at the consulting criminal who just shook his head at us slowly.

"You've never seen what I can do, what I am prepared to do," I told Moriarty and he flicked his gaze over to me as my voice took on a dark threatening tone. "You've gone and threatened everyone I love. There is not a safe place for you to stand," I threatened Moriarty, my tone biting and clipped as I leaned in towards him, my eyes dark and dangerous. I was willing to shoot Henry in the hollow if he so much as made one move to harm Sherlock or John. Now Moriarty threatened the five people I cared most about and he was threatening Sherlock. I was prepared to do anything now.

"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're both ordinary – you're on the side of the angels," Moriarty told us and I laughed darkly at that

"Oh, we may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that we are one of them," Sherlock told Moriarty, his tone becoming more ominous. We locked eyes for a long moment while Moriarty tried to deduce just how far Sherlock and I would go. When he locked eyes with me my eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No, you're not," Moriarty said and he blinked, then closed his eyes briefly. Sherlock did likewise in an unintentional mirror movement. Moriarty smiled and opened his eyes again as I eyed him darkly. "I see. You two aren't ordinary. No. You're me," Moriarty told us softly, sounding insane. He hissed out a delighted laugh and his voice became more high-pitched. "You're me! Thank you!" Moriarty told us and he lifted his hands as if to embrace Sherlock and me, but then he lowered them and offered a hand for the each of us to shake. "Sherlock Holmes and Alexandria MacKenna," Moriarty said as the three of us looked down at his offered hands. Sherlock slowly raised his own right hand while I slowly raised my left hand and took one of Moriarty's proffered hands. "Thank you. Bless you," Moriarty told us, nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stayed soft. He blinked and lowered his gaze as if blinking back tears. "As long as I'm alive, you two can save your friends; you've got a way out," Moriarty said and he continued the blink with his gaze lowered. "Well, good luck with that," Moriarty told us and in rapid succession he raised his eyes to Sherlock and I, grinned manically, opened his mouth wide and dropped my hand before pulling Sherlock closer to him as he reached into his waistband with his other hand and pulled a pistol out, raising it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulled back, the both of us crying out in alarm, Moriarty stuck the muzzle into his own mouth and pulled the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. I let out a sound of shock as Sherlock and I stared in horror as blood began to trickle across the roof underneath Moriarty's head. His eyes were fixed and open and there was a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spun away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raised his hands to his head in horror. I opened and closed my mouth in shock and I must have let out some noise as Sherlock turned back to me instantly and spun my around by my shoulders to face him.

"Don't look," Sherlock told me as I stared at him in horror and he pulled me tightly to him. I buried my face into his chest. Letting out a small sob. That was it, we had no choice. "Lexi…," Sherlock whispered quietly as he pulled back and looked down at me as tears streamed down my face, his own eyes watering. I flung myself at him and held him tightly. Together, it would always be together.

**Third Person POV**

Not far away and unseen by Sherlock and Lexi, a man trotted up a staircase and then sat down on the stairs and began to assemble a high-powered rifle. Meanwhile John sat anxiously in the taxi on his way back to Bart's. At 221, Mrs Hudson gave a mug of tea to the workman who was squatting in the hallway. He took it and smiled gratefully, and once she had moved away he picked up one of his tools and put it into his toolbox. Lying on top of all the other tools was a pistol with a small silencer attached to it. He raised his eyes ominously in the direction of Mrs. Hudson as she walked back into 221A. As the assassin on the staircase continued to assemble his rifle, at Scotland Yard a plain clothed police officer in the general office looked round to Greg's office with his eyes narrowed as the D.I. spoke on the phone.

"Yes, sir, thank you. 'Bye," Lestrade said before he hung up the phone and sighed heavily.

Across London, a sniper set up across the way from the office which Joanna and Mycroft were now in, watching the two of them as Mycroft stood behind Joanna who was working quickly on her computer just in front of him. On the stairwell, the assassin finished his assembly, opened the nearby window and aimed his gun out of it as John's taxi got closer to Bart's. On the rooftop, Sherlock breathed shallowly and rapidly as tears streamed down Lexi's face and Sherlock held his sleeve up over his mouth in horror as he turned to look again at Moriarty's fixed grin. He thought frantically for a while, before he and Lexi slowly turned towards the edge of the building. Their breathing began to slow as they stepped up onto the ledge, Sherlock's arm around Lexi's waist, both blowing out another breath before looking down towards the ground. They were prepared to do anything. In the street below, John's taxi pulled up. Sherlock took out his phone and selected a speed dial. The answering phone began to ring below him as John got out of the taxi and raised his phone to his ear as he trotted towards the hospital.

"Hello?" John answered.

"John," Sherlock said calmly into the phone which Sherlock had on speaker.

"Hey, Sherlock, you and Lexi okay?" John asked him quickly, feeling relieved to be hearing from one of them

"Turn around and walk back the way you came now," Sherlock ordered him and John frowned slightly.

"No, I'm coming in," John told him and Lexi took in a deep breath beside Sherlock.

"Just do as I ask. Please," Sherlock told John frantically, his voice taking on an emotion that John had never heard before and that scared him slightly.

"Please John," Lexi said, her voice slightly thick and John took in a deep breath as he heard her voice come through the phone too.

"Where?" John asked them, turning back and looking around bewildered. Something wasn't right. Sherlock and Lexi paused for a moment while John walked back along the road, then Sherlock spoke urgently.

"Stop there," Sherlock ordered him and the army doctor did as he was told.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked as he heard only quiet breathing coming from the Irish girl over the phone.

"Okay, look up. We're on the rooftop," Sherlock told him and John turned and looked up, his face filling with horror as he saw the unmistakeable forms of Sherlock and Lexi, standing on the ledge of the roof. It was hard not to recognize that distinctive shade of red hair.

"Oh God," John breathed in horror as he saw their coats blowing slightly in the wind, along with Lexi's hair. Sherlock's arm was around Lexi's waist and she had one of her hands on his chest.

"We ... we ... we can't come down, so we'll ... we'll just have to do it like this," Sherlock told him, the phone between the two of them.

"What's going on?" John asked them anxiously as they stared at each other, John from the ground and Sherlock and Lexi from the rooftop.

"An apology. It's all true," Sherlock told him calmly.

"Every word of it was true John,' Lexi said, her voice not as thick as before, but John could still hear the emotion in it.

"Wh-what?" John stammered in confusion.

"Everything they said about us. We invented Moriarty," Sherlock told him as he and Lexi looked around briefly to their enemy's grinning body lying behind them. On the ground, John stared up at his friends in disbelief.

"It was all game John, us meeting you. Sherlock and I had already knew each other and we kept it from Mycroft," Lexi told him, her voice light and sounding normal again.

"Why are you saying this?" John asked them brokenly as Sherlock and Lexi turned back to look down at him.

"We're fakes," Sherlock told him, his voice breaking.

"Lexi, Sherlock ...," John said, trailing off as he didn't know what else to say.

"The newspapers were right all along. We want you to tell Lestrade; we want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly ... in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that we created Moriarty for our own purposes," Sherlock told him, his voice sounding tearful.

"We just wanted to be important, the great detectives, but it got out of hand. The lie got to be too much for us to be able to continue," Lexi told him, her voice thick again and John could tell that she was crying now.

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, Lexi, shut up. The first time we met ... the first time we met, you two knew all about my sister, right?" John asked them getting angrily that they would even be saying this to him.

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock told him and John shook his head slightly as he stared up at them.

"You two could," John told them and Sherlock and Lexi laughed as they gazed down at their friend, a tear dripping from each of their chins.

"We researched you. Before we met we discovered everything that we could to impress you," Sherlock said and he sniffed quietly.

"We wanted to impress you because we knew that if you believed everyone else would too," Lexi told him, shaking her head as she spoke thickly, her voice catching slightly.

"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," Sherlock told John who had his eyes closed and was shaking his head repeatedly.

"No. All right, stop it now," John told them as he started to walk towards the hospital entrance, determined to go and stop them before they did anything drastic.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," Sherlock told John urgently and John stopped and backed up, holding his hand up to Sherlock and Lexi in capitulation.

"All right," John told them, doing whatever he could to keep them from moving. Breathing rapidly, Sherlock had his own hand stretched out towards his friend, Lexi taking the phone from him in her free hand.

"Keep your eyes fixed on us," Sherlock told him, his voice becoming frantic. "Please, will you do this for us?" Sherlock asked him.

"John please," Lexi pleaded with him. "For us, just keep your eyes on us," Lexi said quickly, her voice trembling.

"Do what?" John asked them in confusion as he stared up at them with his mouth open.

"This phone call – it's, er ... it's our note. It's what people do, don't they – leave a note?" Sherlock asked him and John shook his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he was beginning to understand hit him, then he raised it again, his voice shaky.

"Leave a note when?" John asked them his voice broken.

"Goodbye, John," Sherlock and Lexi told him in unison their voices both calm.

"No. Don't," John told them urgently, shaking his head. Sherlock and Lexi gazed down at John for several seconds before Lexi lowered her arm and dropped the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of themselves. John lowered his own phone and screamed upwards. "No. SHERLOCK! LEXI!" John screamed as he watched Sherlock and Lexi turn towards each other. They wrapped their arms around each other before they pitched sideways off of the roof together, and plummeted towards the ground, clinging to each other.

**2014**

In an underground car park, Greg Lestrade walked across the area searching his pockets as he went. Behind him, Sherlock and Lexi's distinctive silhouettes quickly walked past and disappeared into the shadows of an unlit area of the car park. Unaware of this, Greg continued rummaging in various pockets. Something metallic clinked noisily in the darkness and Greg looked around but he couldn't see anything and resumed his search until he finally found what he was looking for. Tipping a cigarette out of the pack, he stuck it into his mouth, put the rest of the pack back into his pocket, and then flicked his lighter and raised it towards the end of the cigarette.

"Those things'll kill you," Sherlock said, his voice cutting through the darkness and Greg froze, the flame not quite reaching the end of his cigarette as he stared into the distance while his brain caught up with what and who he just heard.

"Oh the irony. I remember a conversation between us when you told me to quit for my health," Lexi's voice rang out through the darkness with a slight chuckled and Greg finally lowered his lighter and took his fag out of his mouth.

"Ooh, you bastard! And you…you…," Greg said, searching for a word as Lexi and Sherlock walked out of the darkness towards him.

"Don't finish that sentence," Lexi told him as Greg caught her smirk.

"It's time to come back. You've been letting things slide, Graham," Sherlock said and Lexi snorted and looked towards Sherlock.

"Greg!" Lestrade corrected in exasperation while Lexi reminded Sherlock, "Greg love,"

"Greg," Sherlock corrected himself and Greg stared at the two detectives for a long moment, his lips slowly lifting to reveal his teeth. Grimacing, he lunged towards Sherlock and Lexi and wrapped his arms around the necks of the pair of them and pulled them into a tight hug. Sherlock and Lexi both groaned as they had for Molly's hug but they tolerated Greg's affection. That was until Greg pulled back from the hug. Lexi's arm immediately drew back and Greg felt a burst of pain blossom over his jawbone as Lexi's fist made contact with his face.

"That felt good. I've been waiting to do that for two years," Lexi said as she shook out her hand and flexed her fingers as Greg clutched at his face.

"What the?!" Greg asked her and he groaned as he rubbed his sore cheek. "The hell was that for?!" Greg shouted at Lexi as she looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What was that for!?" Lexi asked him as she took a step towards him. Greg quickly took a few steps back and looked to Sherlock who seemed to just be letting her get this out of her system. "You listened to them you utter bastard!" Lexi said as she smacked him roughly on every word as he shielded his face with his arms. "You knew how Anderson and Donovan felt about us and you went and bloody listen to them! How could you!" Lexi shouted at him and Greg looked back at her, lowering his arms when he heard the note of hurt in her voice. He looked down guiltily unable to meet her eyes. "You knew what happened to me when I was kidnapped, what they did! Why would you ever listen to them? You, you were the only one who listened to us and believed us and you knew us. How could you have ever thought we could do something like that Gregory Lestrade?!" Lexi asked him and Greg flinched under her use of his full name. "Then you went and bloody used my first name! I hate it… seriously hate it. What was my mother thinking," Lexi asked him and Sherlock chuckled behind her as Lexi smiled slightly and sighed, calming down a bit.

"I… I don't know what to tell you Lexi," Lestrade started and Lexi looked at him as Sherlock stepped closer to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I didn't know what to think or what to believe and Donovan wanted to go to the Chief. I had to cover my own arse and I was thinking that if it really wasn't you we could get you out of there pretty quickly," Lestrade told them and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry… I know that's a pretty poor excuse for what I did, but I am truly sorry," Lestrade apologized to the both of them and he stared back at the two detectives before Lexi stepped forward and gave him a hug.

"Well then, I think we're all good again," Lexi said and Sherlock chuckled as Lestrade laughed nervously then rubbed his jaw again.

"You've got a hell of a left hook," Lestrade commented and Lexi's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Crap sorry!" Lexi told him as she looked at his chin in the low lighting. "I keep forgetting I'm wearing my rings," Lexi said as she looked back at Sherlock and giggled slightly and Lestrade's eyes quickly shot to her ringer finger on her left hand.

"Bloody hell! What did I miss?" Lestrade asked them as he saw a gold band on her finger that was pretty beat up along with a beautiful diamond ring. He looked at Sherlock's left hand and saw a gold band on his ring finger as well that was just as beat up. "You got married!?" Lestrade shouted in disbelief.

"Sort of. We got engaged after Baskerville but we really didn't get to tell anyone what with what was going on," Lexi told him and Greg pulled the two detectives into another tight hug.

"Congratulations. We should have had a beating pool. Took you two long enough. I'm happy for you two," Lestrade told them as he pulled back from the hug and Lexi smirked at him.

"We're rather happy too," Lexi said with a laugh and Greg chuckled as he looked up at Sherlock who was staring down at Lexi with an expression that was truly a sight to behold. He gazed at her with such adoration and love that Lestrade almost had to do a double take to see if it really was coming from Sherlock. Lexi had always been the exception though. Good on them. Good on them both.

**Lexi's POV**

Sherlock and I took a cab to the Landmark Hotel at Marylebone Road where John supposedly had dinner reservations tonight. I made several deductions about that that Sherlock didn't want to make. Mycroft said he had moved on and I was sure that John had. It had been two years since he saw us "die." I didn't expect him to wait around for us in Baker Street and it wouldn't have been healthy for him to because he thought we were never coming back. I knew that this would be hard for Sherlock to accept. He assumed that John would be happy to see us again but he never considered that John just might not want to. I could do nothing to prepare him but I could be there for him if the second possibility I had calculated for was the one we were met with. I…I didn't want to accept this fact either. It had always been the three of us and I didn't want to face the possibility that John might hate us and never want to see us again. We had left for him and while he didn't know that, everything Sherlock and I had been through in the last two years had been done with his safety in mind. We both almost died many times and… to lose John forever after all of that….Now dinner reservations told me John was on a date which meant that he had seen the video I left for him and he had listened to me. He found someone, he moved on from us and yes, I tried to leave hints, but I wouldn't have ever expected him to not find someone.

As we approached the door to the restaurant, Sherlock helped me out of my coat, revealing a beautiful green dress that was reminiscent of the one I wore on our first date which technically was when we went to dinner during the Blind Banker case. He had insisted upon stopping at a store along our way to the restaurant to get me a dress. It was one of probably many of his attempts to make up for all that had happened in the last two years. I never would believe that it was Sherlock's fault. Moriarty was interested in the both of us. What happened would have happened whether I was here or not. He had been a psychopath intent on completely destroying us but he was dead and he his network was gone now and we never had to worry about Moriarty again. Sherlock handed our coats off to a member of the staff and Sherlock offered me his arm as the waiters opened the doors for us. I took his arm and smiled up at him as he sent me a very Sherlock grin that I loved so much. As we walked in together the maître d' stepped forward to greet us.

"Sir, ma'am may I help you?" The maître d' asked us and only having glanced briefly at him we both unfortunately were in full-blown deduction mode. It had become habit for us to deduce everyone we came into contact with as it was necessary in order to make sure that we were safe. Sherlock flicked his gaze over to me and I nodded at him as we shared our deduction, Expectant Father. The man's phone beeped a text alert just then which confirmed our deduction.

"Your wife just texted you. Possibly her contractions have started," Sherlock told the man who fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He looked up at Sherlock in shock and I nodded at him before reaching for and patting him on the arm comfortingly.

"Go honestly. She's going to need you," I told the man who looked to me in shock and he finally managed to get a hold on himself and rushed away from us. "By the way, Lexi is a nice name for a girl!" I shouted after the man and Sherlock chuckled beside me. I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow as I read his expression. That was another thing that had changed between us in the last two years. Before I could sometimes tell what Sherlock was thinking or feeling from a look, but now we could read each other like open books. Now we could actually deduce each other and my deduction came back with jealousy. I giggled and Sherlock glanced down at me with a frown. I raised up on my tiptoes and went to kiss his cheek but he moved his head at the last second so that he captured my lips with his own. When we pulled apart he smiled smugly at me and I shook my head at him. "I love you," I reminded him, knowing that he had gotten slightly jealous when I had put my hand on the man's arm.

"Obviously," Sherlock told me and I smacked him on the arm playfully and laughed loudly at that as he chuckled. We looked about the room then and my heart speed up a bit as I caught sight of John for the first time in two years. Nearby, John was sitting alone at a table, checking the inside pocket of his jacket before taking a drink from a glass of water. Sherlock looked across the room at him, then hesitated.

"It's okay love," I told Sherlock and he looked down at me and nodded and I could see just how nervous he was. "It's John. You know John. Jumpers, and tea, and complaining about our experiments," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me again. "If you want we can wait a day or two," I told him and he shook his head at me.

"No. I want…I want to do this now," Sherlock told me and I nodded at him and reached up to cup his cheek. He looked down at me, biting his lip slightly and I recalled a time that seemed so long again when the three of us had been in a cab. Sherlock had just given John his deductions about him and then he turned away and bit his lip nervously, afraid of what John might say. And he always surprised us.

"Together then," I told him and he nodded and bent down, resting his forehead against mine.

"Together," He agreed with me before he rubbed his thumb over the rings on my left hand, something he did often when he needed to remind him of the fact that whatever happened I would be right by his side. A waitress picked up some menus from the bar and walked across in front of us then.

"'Scuse me," She told us and our attention was drawn back to the room.

"So, are we going with subtlety or jumping out of a cake?" I asked Sherlock and he chuckled before thinking.

"I think it would be best if we were subtle. Don't want to spring it all on him at once," Sherlock told me and I nodded in agreement. I spied that there was an empty table for two open right next to John's table and I got an idea into my head.

"I believe you promised me dinner Mr. Holmes," I told Sherlock slyly and he raised an eyebrow at me, a slight smirk on his face.

"Did I Mrs. Holmes?" He asked me and I smiled brightly at that name. I never got tired of hearing him say it. I nodded at him before I pulled him towards John and the table. He kept his hand in mine, his fingers tightening slightly as I led him on, knowing how hard it was for him to approach John.

"You did Mr. Holmes. You married a woman with an eidetic memory," I pointed out and he chuckled. We were laughing and smiling more together than we had in months because now we were finally home. No more running or worry about death. Sherlock and I sat down at the table next to John and he seemed not to notice us at all. Sherlock took the seat that meant he could look directly at John and I sat opposite him, keeping my hand in his. I took one look at John and clamped a hand over my mouth. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at me in amusement and smirked slightly. "That has to go, I can't look at him with it," I told Sherlock and he chuckled as I shook my head ruefully. "Mmm, do you remember that first case that John called A Study in Pink?" I asked Sherlock, raising my voice slightly so John would hear us.

"Yes, if I remember correctly John shot that cabbie," Sherlock said, raising his voice too as I played with the fingers of the hand I was holding. He had put his other hand over the top of mine as we stared across the table at each other.

"Well, he was a bloody awful cabbie," I laughed brightly and Sherlock chuckled at that.

"Do you remember the route that he took us?" Sherlock asked me and I laughed at that and nodded.

"Oh and the Blind Baker. I saved both of your arses at that circus," I pointed out to Sherlock and he groaned at me.

"The Yellow Dragon Circus," Sherlock supplied and I lifted one of my hands and snapped as I pointed at him.

"Yup, that is the one. And we ruined John's date with Sarah. Not that that was a problem though. Getting kidnapped by a Chinese Tong kind of ruins any normal date," I told Sherlock with a shrug. We both glanced over at John to see that he hadn't heard us yet or was ignoring us and was simply looking over a wine menu. "Or the hound at Baskerville, John pulling rank," I told Sherlock a bit louder and a few people at tables close to us looked over at me and eyed me. I raised my eyebrow at them and they turned their head back to their own tables again. I sighed as John still didn't look our way. "This isn't working," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me. A waiter passed by our table and Sherlock looked up at him, his attention drawn to the bowtie he was wearing as a part of his uniform. I could see a plan forming in his head as he stood up and grinned down at me. He bent down and kissed the top of my head before dancing off back towards the door. I turned in my seat to watch his progress through the restaurant.

He looked to a table that was near to the door where a couple was sitting. There was a glass of red wine and a glass of water to the man's left. The man had his back to the door and Sherlock circled around so that he would be behind him. I flicked my gaze over at John who was still looking at the wine list and I sighed before watching Sherlock in amusement. He had some idea in his head which might work better than our approach at subtlety. Sherlock smiled to himself and flicked his eyes over to me and I grinned at him and gestured for him to move on with his plan. He walked over to the side of the other couple's table where he picked up the glass of water and poured it down the man's front. The man who was wearing a white shirt, black jacket and a bowtie recoiled and cried out in shock.

"Sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Sherlock apologized loudly and the man lifted his napkin from his lap and started mopping himself with it. Sherlock stepped behind him, pulling the napkin higher up the man's chest. "Please, let me just go to the kitchen and, er, dry that off for you," Sherlock told him and with one smooth tug, he pulled off the man's bowtie and walked away, tying the bowtie around his own neck. Haha, bowties were cool. Continuing across the restaurant, he saw a man at another table taking off his glasses and putting them down on top of the menu he had just been reading. Sherlock walked to his side as I smirked across the restaurant at him. "Finished with that, sir? Allow me to take it for you," Sherlock said and, not paying much attention, the man waved him away. Sherlock picked up the menu and the man's glasses and walked away, putting on the glasses as he went. I giggled behind my hand, finding that the look was actually rather sexy on him in a nerdy detective sort of way. At a nearby table, a woman's small handbag was open beside her. Sherlock spotted something that I couldn't see from our table and he stepped close behind her, offering her the menu he was holding with his right hand while simultaneously taking the menu she was holding with his left hand. "Madam, can I suggest you look at this menu? It's, er, completely identical," Sherlock told her and I laughed at that again and shook my head at him. The woman automatically took the menu from his right hand and he instantly pinched something from her purse which I realized was eyeliner. He circled around back to the table where I was sitting and he grinned down at me as I eyed him up and down.

"Hmm, I like the look," I told Sherlock and he smirked back at me cheekily.

"Obviously, your eyes are dilated," Sherlock said before he reached down and checked my pulse. "And your pulse is elevated. My my Mrs. Holmes if I didn't know any better I would say you like what you see," Sherlock teased me and I stood up and took the eyeliner from him.

"Maybe I'll show you just how much later," I whispered into Sherlock's ear and he shivered as I smirked triumphantly and leaned back. He looked at me hungrily and I bit my lip to hold back a giggle. I was very proud for being able to entice that sort of reaction from him. He told me that only I could ever get that reaction from him and I used it to my advantage. As much as John had changed, so had we. We were a lot more open with each other, but then again we did depend solely upon each other. Everything we had been through had only brought us closer together. I took the eyeliner from Sherlock and drew a small pencil moustache on the top of his lip like he wanted me to. Sherlock leaned down and kissed me once and his eyes held a promise for later. I giggled and smacked him on the arm before turning him around to face John and pushed him slightly towards him. He stood to his left, and one step behind him and I could see that his nervousness had returned.

"Can I 'elp you with anything, sir?" Sherlock asked John in a French accent as he waved the eyeliner pencil around. I coughed to disguise my laughter and Sherlock turned and looked over his shoulder at me with a slight glare.

"Hi, yeah. I'm looking for a bottle of champagne – a good one," John told him, not looking round at him. Oh good, so he could hear us. Maybe he had heard us but believed it was just him hearing things? Champagne though, this was a pretty important date. Wouldn't be the first time we interrupted one.

"Mmm! Well, these are all excellent vintages," Sherlock told him continuing with the French accent as he leaned in closer, trying to get John to look up at him.

"Er, it's not really my area. What do you suggest?" John asked him as he looked over the menu instead of looking up and I shook my head at them.

"Well, you cannot possibly go wrong, but, erm, if you'd like my personal recommendation ...," Sherlock said his French accent becoming a little Captain du Creff-esque and John hummed before Sherlock continued. "...this last one on the list is a favourite of mine," Sherlock said as he gestured at the list with his eyeliner pencil. John nodded but still didn't look up at him and I groaned loudly enough that a few other diners looked my way.

"Pay no attention to the Irish woman who is losing faith in humanity," I told them and they looked away from me quickly as I turned my attention back to my boys and crossed my arms over my chest.

"It is – you might, in fact, say – like a face from ze past," Sherlock tried as he straightened up and took off his glasses and waited expectantly.

"Great. I'll have that one, please," John told him without even bothering to glace at Sherlock and he just finished his glass of red wine. Sherlock looked startled that John hadn't recognized him yet and he looked over his shoulder at me helplessly. I waved him on to continue and he nodded at me.

"It is familiar, but, er, with the quality of surprise!" Sherlock said and he almost lapsed into his own voice on the final word to see if that would get John's attention and he gestured grandly. John grimaced at the taste of his wine, then, still without looking round, handed the wine list to Sherlock who he apparently thought was just the wine waiter.

"Well, er, surprise me," John told him with a note of finality and Sherlock took a look at him, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Certainly endeavoring to, sir," Sherlock told him tetchily, in pretty much his own voice before he walked over to my table. "Anything for you ma'am?" Sherlock asked me, raising his eyebrow as he lapsed back into the French accent.

"Sangria please my love. It's always been a personal favourite of mine," I told Sherlock and he nodded at me and bent down to kiss me before he walked off towards the kitchen. While Sherlock distracted me I missed when John reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box, opening it and looking at the three-stone diamond ring inside, before he closed the box and put it on the table in front of him. I turned back to look at John after staring for a long moment at Sherlock's retreating back, and butt, to find that John's dinner date was re-joining him.

"Oh for the love of all that's bloody holy," I said in a hushed breath of shock as I saw that his date was none other than Mary Morstan. She patted his shoulder before she walked around to her own seat and I put my face into my hands. Mary, my friend Mary was his date. Sure, I said before that they would make a great couple and apparently I had been right, but ten years. I hadn't seen her in ten years and now she was John's girlfriend. Oh bloody hell, this night was getting a bit crazy already.

"Sorry that took so long," Mary told him and I was too focused on staring at her to notice as John snatched the ring box off the table and shoved it back into his pocket. Mary sat down and smiled at him. "You okay?" Mary asked him and I flicked my gaze over at John before I leaned my head against one of my arms. Well, John was in for more than one surprise tonight.

"Yeah, yeah. Me? Fine. I am fine," John told her and I raised my eyebrow at him as Mary smiled sweetly back at him. Smooth Watson, real smooth mate. John chuckled and gazed at her with a delighted look on his face. He looked happy. Really happy and I was so glad that he had found that. He was his old self again or at least the John I remembered.

"Now then, what did you want to ask me?" Mary asked him, shrugging her shoulders slightly as she grinned and John's smile faded and he looked nervous. I raised my eyebrow closer to my hairline as I watched this like some soap opera.

"More wine?" John asked her and I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"No, I'm good with water, thanks," Mary answered him quickly and I giggled behind my hand.

"Watson's trying to get lucky tonight…," I said before I looked in the direction Sherlock had walked to go to the kitchen. "…and so am I," I finished before I looked back at John and Mary.

"Right," John said and he briefly looked away at Mary. Actually, he looked right at me and I froze for a second, waiting for him to recognize me but he didn't and turned back to Mary again.

"So ..." Mary asked him, nodding him along and John finally seemed to strengthen his resolve. This was the man who invaded Afghanistan for crying out loud. I remembered when John told me that it wasn't just him. That was a long time ago now though.

"Er, so ... Mary. Listen, erm ... I know it hasn't been long ... I mean, I know we haven't known each other for a long time …," John said and he looked down, clearly struggling and I realized what was going on. I groaned and shook my head.

"Oh blimey, this is more painful the watching Sherlock trying to purpose to me," I said as I watched them, leaning in slightly as I turned in my seat and bounced my foot on my knee.

"Go on," Mary said encouragingly and I nodded at that.

"Yeah, John, go on," I told the man, knowing that neither of them could hear me, but I didn't care.

"Yes, I will. As you know, these last couple of years haven't been easy for me…," John said and I grimaced at that.

"Sorry about that," I apologized, knowing that had been Sherlock and my fault.

"…and meeting you ..." John continued and he looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, meeting you has been the best thing that could have possibly happened," John said before Mary cut in with a comment.

"I agree," Mary told him seriously and the same time I said "Obviously" with a grin on my face.

"What?" John asked her, staring at her in confusion for a moment.

"I agree I'm the best thing that could have happened to you," Mary told him, smiling and John laughed before Mary screwed up her nose apologetically. "Sorry," She apologized while I giggled behind my hand.

"I knew there was a reason why I loved the both of you," I told them even if they weren't listening. My John and Mary. They were so bloody adorable together. I was sad that I missed seeing them together, but now I could make up for that lost time.

"Well, no. That's, um ...," John said and he paused and looked at her. "So ... if you'll have me, Mary, could you see your way, um ...," John struggled and Mary giggled. John cleared his throat and I gestured to them before holding my hands up to my face. "...if you could see your way to ...," John said and I spoke slightly louder in exasperation.

"Just get on with it already!" I said, looking at John and just as he was about to go for it, Sherlock returned. He set a glass of Sangria in front of me before he glided across to John's table, still with the glasses, the ridiculous fake moustache, and the ridiculous fake accent, but now with the added bonus of a bottle of champagne which he showed to John.

"Sir, I think you'll find this vintage exceptionally to your liking," Sherlock told John as Mary shielded her face with her hand so that Sherlock who they thought was a waiter couldn't see her as she giggled silently at John. "It 'as all the qualities of the old, with some of the colour of the new."

"No, sorry, not now, please," John told Sherlock, locking his eyes with Mary.

"Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers ...," Sherlock continued while Mary pulled a face at John. "...suddenly one is aware of staring into ze faces of old friends," Sherlock said as he took off his glasses.

"No, look, seriously ...," John said as he finally lifted his gaze to meet Sherlock's eyes "...could you just ...," John said, trailing of as his face dropped.

"Love, subtly was never John's strong point," I said in my Irish accent as I stood up with my Sangria in hand and wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist as he moved to do the same with me. John's entire body jolted and he stared at us with an expression of utter disbelief.

"Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends, and anonymity to waiters," Sherlock said and I giggled slightly.

"And it looks dead sexy, you left that part out," I told Sherlock, unable to resist and he smirked at me. I was surprised that Mary hadn't recognized me yet but then again, it had been ten years since we last saw each other. She had changed a lot too. I had only recognized her because of the way she laughed but she was a lot different that I remembered her to be. Still the same, but also somehow different. John turned his head towards Mary, then his eyes filled with tears, and he ducked his head momentarily before he stumbled clumsily to his feet.

"John?" Mary asked him in concern as the army doctor straightened up beside me. Sherlock began to move his right hand forward as if expecting John to shake it. John looked down at the table breathing heavily before lifting his head and briefly locking eyes with us. "John, what is it? What?" Mary asked John, sounding worried now and John looked down again, clearly still in shock.

"Well, short version ...," Sherlock said a little awkwardly and John raised his eyes to us again.

"And we mean very short version…," I added before Sherlock and I turned to each other and shared a long look before turning back to John.

"...Not Dead," Sherlock and I said in unison. John stared at us, his face full of pain, shock, and growing anger. Sherlock finally seemed to catch on and looked a little guilty as I bit my lip.

"Bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know. Could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defense, it was very funny," Sherlock said, laughing nervously and not meeting John's eyes, which was probably for the best because John's gaze was slowly turning murderous. In one deft movement I reached up and smacked Sherlock on the back of his head roughly. "Woman!" Sherlock yelled at me and I raised my eyebrow at him before turning back to John.

"And in my defense I did try to tell him no, but there was no stopping him," I told John before looking up at Sherlock who was rubbing the back of his head still.

"Okay, it's not a great defense," Sherlock conceded and I nodded at him. "Did you have to do that?" Sherlock asked me as he lowered his hand from the back of his head.

"Not really love," I told Sherlock and he pulled a face at me. "And yes, I did," I told him and he glared down at me for a second.

"Oh no! You're ...," Mary said, catching on and I nodded at her. "And Lexi is that really you?" Mary asked me as she looked to me and I smiled at her nervously since John was still glaring at Sherlock and me.

"Oh yes," Sherlock told Mary, glancing at her.

"Hi Mary. It's been a while," I told her awkwardly and she looked up at us in surprise.

"Oh, my God," Mary said in shock and I grimaced.

"Not quite," Sherlock quipped back and I looked up at him and raised my eyebrow.

"I think I can get you to say oh God though," I told Sherlock suggestively and he shot me a look. I shrugged at him as I looked back at John before quickly looking away again.

"You two died. You two jumped off a roof," Mary said in horror and I shook my head at her.

"No," Sherlock told her while I said, "Not exactly."

"You two are dead!" Mary said appalled and I raised both of my eyebrows.

"No. I'm quite sure. We checked," Sherlock told her and I glanced sidelong at him.

"Quite thoroughly actually," I added and Sherlock and I shared a look for a long moment before I grimaced at him and gestured to his face.

"Excuse me," Sherlock told Mary and he picked up a napkin from their table and dipped it into Mary's glass of water as I set my glass of Sangria down on their table. I took the napkin from him and eyed him for a long moment.

"I think this counts and you promised," I reminded him with a slight smirk and he sighed heavily and leaned forward, kissing my forehead. I wrinkled my nose up at him. "Don't try to distract me," I told Sherlock and he chuckled at me.

"It doesn't count. It washes off and you're saying I can distract you," Sherlock told me and I clucked my tongue at him and shook my head.

"Fine, you're excused for now," I told Sherlock as I started to rub off his moustache.

"Does, er, does yours rub off, too?" Sherlock asked John trying to sound nonchalant as he met John's furious gaze which hadn't lessened even during our banter.

"Seriously John, Watson on your face?" I joked before laughing nervously as he turned his glare on to me. The tight smile which John directed at us bared absolutely no humour at all. Mary's anger was clear in her voice as she spoke.

"Oh my God, oh my God. Do you have any idea what you two have done to him?" Mary asked us and I looked down at her and nodded.

"Yes, which is why I left him the video. I planned ahead… sort of but I couldn't calculate for everything John," I told her before turning back to the army doctor. "I tried, but I couldn't," I told John as Sherlock and I looked down nervously.

"Okay, John, I'm suddenly realizing we probably owe you some sort of an apology," Sherlock told John who clenched his left fist and slammed it down onto the table. It was a credit to the manufacturers of the table that he didn't shatter it. I flinched as John hunched over his fist. Well then, possibly number two. Anger.

"All right, just ... John? Just keep ...,"Mary said and John pulled in a deep shaky breath before looking up at Sherlock and me.

"Two years," John said in a whisper, talking to us for the first time and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as Sherlock rubbed circles on the small of my back. John shook his head, dragging in another long breath and blowing it out again before starting to straighten up. "Two years," John repeated in a tight whisper. He moaned and slumped down over his hands again. Sherlock had the decency to look awkward and I just wanted to pull him into a hug, but I of course refrained from doing so. John glanced up at us momentarily. "I thought ...," John said and he groaned, unable to continue and gestured helplessly. Mary stared at him in sympathy and I blinked slowly as I waited for him to speak. John finally straightened and turns to Sherlock and me fully. "I thought ... you two were dead," John finally got out and his face began to fill with anger again. "Hmm?" John asked us and he breathed rapidly and shallowly. "Now, you two let me grieve, hmm? How could you do that?" John asked us and Sherlock looked down, biting his lip as I calmly met John's eyes, my expression regretful. "How?" John asked us softly but furiously.

"John please," I told him and he looked at me and opened his mouth slightly before closing it again and whimpered and I realized I had just said the same thing to him as I had on the roof. "I'm sorry," I told him instantly and I reached out for him before lowering my hand awkwardly.

"Wait – before you do anything that you might regret ...," Sherlock told John as John's breathing became more intense. John half-groaned again as I looked up at Sherlock and frowned, reading his face.

"Don't you dare!" I told Sherlock, already seeing that look in his eyes and I knew that he was going to say something that really wasn't going to help the current situation.

"...um, one question. Just let me ask one question. Um ...," Sherlock said and I glared up at him.

"No Sherlock. No!" I told him sternly but he continued to ignore me. John looked at Sherlock, his eyes still full of fury.

"Are you really gonna keep that?!" Sherlock asked John almost giggling as he gestured towards his own top lip. I groaned and took a step back from the table as I buried my face in my hands. Sherlock grinned as he turned his head to look at Mary. She laughed in disbelief as I gestured to Sherlock behind his back in a "yeah" sort of gesture. John drew in one more long breath, then hurled himself at Sherlock, grabbing his lapels and bundling him back across the floor until Sherlock lost his footing and they both fell to the floor, John on top of Sherlock and trying to throttle him. Mary and various waiters ran to pull John off and I gave the army doctor exactly fifteen seconds before I cut in.

"John I know it's hard to resist right now but could you please try to refrain from strangling my husband?" I called loudly over the din as I walked forward and waved away the waiters who took one look at me and listened. Mary and John both froze as Sherlock panted under John, his face screwed up in pain. I knew that landing on his back wouldn't have been good for his injuries. John turned, taking his hands away from Sherlock's through as he looked up at me in shock before scrambling to his feet.

"You…you two got…married?" John asked us in disbelief as I walked over to Sherlock and helped him to his feet. I groaned at the same time Sherlock did before I reached for my side quickly.

"Lexi," Sherlock whispered quickly and I shook my head at him.

"I'm fine, just pulled my stitches a little. Are you alright?" I asked Sherlock as we both straightened up and he nodded at me quickly. We turned and looked up at John and Mary who were both staring at us in shock and disbelief and John looked at me for an answer to his question as the entire restaurant and staff watched us. "Yeah…no, well technically yes and then again no. It's really rather complicated, but I'd like to have my husband in generally one piece so…," I told John and he laughed in disbelief before the owner of the restaurant came out and personally escorted the four of us from his restaurant and banned us from ever coming back.

Slightly later, the four of us had relocated to a café not that far way. Sherlock and I sat on one side of the table wearing our coats now in order to hide the fact that I had a few blood spots on the side of my dress. I had checked my stitches to find that they only had bleed a little bit. Sherlock had his fingers steepled in front of him and I had one hand on his arm and my other hand resting on his knee under the table, squeezing it slightly in comfort because I could see the pain in his eyes from his injuries. John hadn't been all too gentle with him. John and Mary, also in their coats, sat side by side opposite us with their arms folded, Mary leaning back in her chair across from me. I met John's gaze and flicked my eyes over to Mary every so often. She was eyeing me and kept looking between Sherlock and me as John was doing.

"You two got married?" John asked us shortly, speaking up for the first time and breaking the silence that had fallen over us. I looked over at Sherlock raised my eyebrow at him before looking back over at John and nodding slowly.

"Yes…sort of, like I said it's complicated," I told John and he fixed me with a hard look.

"Complicated?" He asked me, laughing humourlessly. "My two best friends come back from the dead and I only found out they were engaged right before they jumped off of a bloody roof because they didn't see fit to tell me before then and now I find out that they are suddenly married and all you have to tell me is that it's complicated?" John asked me and I looked away from him and sighed heavily and Sherlock slipped his hand into mine.

"John we couldn't tell you before then," I told him and he tried to cut me off but I spoke over him. "No listen. Sherlock and I got a message from Moriarty after we returned from his parent's house, after he proposed to me. Moriarty wanted to start the game again. We thought the less people who knew the better. Especially once we figured out what we had to do," I told Him and Sherlock picked up for me, trying to explain things to John.

"We calculated that there were thirteen possibilities once we'd invited Moriarty onto the roof," Sherlock explained to John and Mary and I looked at Sherlock and snorted. He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Problem?" Sherlock asked me and I chuckled slightly at him.

"And by "we" you must mean me. I calculated that there were thirteen possibilities, you tried to distract me," I reminded Sherlock and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Which I'm ashamed to say worked," I told Sherlock and Mary made a sound across the table which I realized was a laugh. She hid her mouth behind her hand as John looked over at her in disbelief. She shrugged at him before Sherlock continued.

"We wanted to avoid dying if at all possible," Sherlock told John and I recalled how we had looked around the roof quickly and at all of the surrounding buildings while we visually calculated trajectories, angles, and even the possibility of a ladder being lowered from a helicopter. "The first scenario involved hurling ourselves into a parked hospital van filled with washing bags. Impossible. The angle was too steep and with the both of us, impossible. Secondly, a system of Japanese wrestling ...," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.

"You know, for a genius you can be remarkably thick," John told Sherlock and he flicked his gaze over to me. "She at least gets it," John said and I shrugged slightly and looked away from him awkwardly.

"What?" Sherlock asked John in confusion,

"I don't care how you two faked it, Sherlock. I wanna know why," John told Sherlock tightly and I sighed and turned back to look at him.

"Why? Because Moriarty had to be stopped," Sherlock told John in bewilderment and he looked at John's expression as Mary gave me a questioning look. Well, I guess he didn't come up much in polite conversation. "Oh. 'Why' as in ...," Sherlock said, catching on as he lifted a finger, pointing it in John's direction. John and Mary both nodded once and I looked at Sherlock. "I see. Yes. 'Why?' That's a little more difficult to explain," Sherlock told John and I nodded once.

"And it's a fairly long story as well," I added and John eyed the both of us with a glare.

"I've got all night," John told us darkly and I sighed and clenched my teeth slightly. He wasn't exactly making this easy on us.

"Actually, um, that was mostly Mycroft's idea, well Mycroft and Lexi's," Sherlock told John clearing his throat and looking down.

"Oh, so it's your brother's plan?" John asked Sherlock and I could see that that was a bad subject for John. I immediately deduced that John hadn't talked to Mycroft, probably since our funerals. We had been there of course.

"And his fiancée's," I told John as Mary pointed to Sherlock and me.

"Oh, they would have needed a confidant ...," Mary told John and Sherlock nodded at her in agreement and hummed before Mary trailed off at John's look. "Sorry," Mary told John and she refolded her arms as she frowned and looked down. John turned back to Sherlock and me and I grimaced at him and Mary.

"Wait, fiancée?" John asked me, finally catching on to what I had said and I nodded at him as I frowned in confusion. "Mycroft has a fiancée? Is everyone married except for me?" John asked me and Mary looked at him awkwardly before John shuffled in his seat.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I asked John in disbelief and he shook his head once.

"But they were the only ones? The only ones who knew?" John asked us and Sherlock and I closed our eyes briefly.

"Couple of others," Sherlock told him, forcing the sentence out as we opened our eyes again. John lowered his head and Sherlock talked quickly to explain. "It was a very elaborate plan – it had to be. Lexi and Joanna had been planning for several things that might happen. The next of the thirteen possibilities ...," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.

"Who else?" John asked us in a despairing whisper as he looked back up at us. "Who else knew?" John asked us again and Sherlock and I looked at each other, the both of us hesitating. "Who?" John asked us again and I sighed.

"Molly," Sherlock told John carefully.

"Molly?" John asked us angrily and I nodded at him.

"John," Mary said softly as I sighed again. This wasn't exactly going to go well if when we tried to explain to him he just kept getting angrier.

"Molly Hooper – some of my homeless network, Joanna, Mycroft, and that pathologist friend of Lexi's Liz, and that's all," Sherlock told John and Mary as Sherlock lowered his hands and reached for me, pulling my chair closer to him which wasn't missed by Mary.

"Okay," John said and he sat up a little and glanced round at Mary, who gave him a sympathetic smile. He turned to Sherlock and me again. "Okay. So just your brother, your brother's fiancée, Molly Hooper, Liz who we hardly know, and a hundred tramps," John said and Sherlock chuckled slightly.

"No! Twenty-five at most," Sherlock told John and I sighed as John hurled himself across the table and attempted to throttle Sherlock again. I stood up quickly at the same time as Mary and I was ready to do what I needed to help Sherlock. John punched Sherlock then and I made a nose of irritation as I moved towards them both.

"John. Really?!" I asked the army doctor in exasperation. "Husband. You. Off," I told John and he looked back at me and let go of Sherlock who caught his breath for the second time. He nodded at me once to let me know he was alright before the four of us were escorted out by the owner once again.

Slightly later we had relocated to a kebab shop just a little further down the street. John and Mary stood leaning with their backs against the counter. Sherlock had taken his coat off and I was holding it in my arms as he held a paper napkin to a cut on his lower lip. He looked at the blood on the napkin, wincing, then pressed it to his lip again. I sighed and Mary took his coat from me for a second as I stood in front of him and took the napkin from him. From my coat I produced a small first aid kit and I wiped his cut with an antiseptic wipe before kissing the side of his lips. I stepped back from him as the bleeding stopped and threw out the trash in a bin before taking his coat back from Mary. The both of us looked at John as he raised his head, avoiding Sherlock and my gaze.

"Seriously, it's not a joke?" Sherlock asked John as he gestured to his own top lip. "You're-you're really keeping this?" Sherlock asked John who cleared his throat and finally met Sherlock's gaze. He still couldn't look me in the eyes. I knew he felt guilt for hurting Sherlock.

"Yeah," John told us clearing his throat awkwardly and Sherlock looked up before looking down at him.

"You're sure?" Sherlock asked him with a frown as I bit my lip to hold back a giggle.

"Mary likes it," John said, nodding his head in her direction and she scrunched her nose up slightly.

"Mmmmmm, no she doesn't," Sherlock told John and I smacked him on the arm playfully.

"She does," John told him quickly and I looked at Mary and rolled my eyes with a grin as I pointed to the boys. She smiled at me slightly though it was a bit strained.

"She doesn't," Sherlock told John again and John glanced briefly round at Mary, then did a double-take. She made incoherent apologetic noises and I reached out and patted his shoulder comfortingly. He didn't shake me off which was a good sign.

"Oh don't" Mary told him as she looked at John and Sherlock raised his napkin to his lip again as it started to bleed slightly.

"Oh!" John said in embarrassment and he tried to cover his moustache with his hand. "Brilliant," John finished and I sighed and looked at him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry – I didn't know how to tell you," Mary told John, shaking her head at him and I laughed slightly.

"I know, telling him things…," I started and John rounded on me with a glare. "Okay, too soon," I said and John breathed in sharply.

"No, no, this is charming!" John said as he pointed angrily and Sherlock and me, clearly referring to our talent of instant deduction. "I've really missed this!" John said and he looked down and took and aggressive step towards Sherlock and got into his face as I reached out and put my arm between them, eyeing John wearily. "One Word, Sherlock, Lexi," John started off in a raised voice as he looked at me next. "That is all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you two were alive," John finished thunderously and he stepped back, breathing heavily.

"And would you have believed us unless you saw us in person?" I asked John as I eyed him angrily and John turned and looked at me, glaring. "Really John? Answer me that, would you have believed us or anyone else if we called you?" I continued and John's expression softened just slightly. "How else were we supposed to tell you we were alive?! We haven't been in London for two years and not because we didn't want to be. There was never a point that we could have told you John and if there was we would have. We wanted to," I told John, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Sherlock put his arm around my waist and drew me to him as he saw me getting upset.

"We've nearly been in contact so many times, but ...," Sherlock told him quietly as John scoffed and I looked up at Sherlock and lowered my head onto his shoulder for a minute. John laughed in disbelief and I raised my hand and looked at the army doctor. "...I worried that, you know, you might say something indiscreet," Sherlock finished and I bit my lip nervously. That was why we hadn't told John. If he knew we were alive, he might not be able to convince Moriarty's men we were dead. We didn't know if his network would still be watching him or not. If John thought we were dead then he would mourn like we needed him to and by mourning he would stay safe.

"What?" John asked Sherlock as he turned back to us quickly in disbelief.

"Well, you know, let the cat out of the bag. Lexi told me it was ridiculous but we had to be sure," Sherlock told John who stepped closer to us again, looking angry again.

"Oh, so this is my fault?!" John asked us and I flinched at the anger in his voice as Mary laughed with disbelief.

"Oh, God!" Mary said and I looked over at her and shook my head.

"Mary please don't go there," I told her and she made a face at me. We might have been friends before but she was also looking out for John now. There was a lot of tension between the two of us.

"Why am I the only one who thinks that this is wrong – the only one reacting like a human being?!" John shouted angrily and everyone in the shop looked up at us.

"Over-reacting," Sherlock told John and I looked up at him and sighed.

"Not helping love," I told him and he looked down at me and rolled his eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed heavily.

""Over-reacting"?!" John asked Sherlock furiously.

"John!" Mary shouted to try and get his attention.

""Over-reacting." So you two fake your own deaths ...," John said, still shouting as everyone watched us in the shop now and Sherlock tried to shush him "...and you two waltz in 'ere large as bloody life ... and you two got bloody married…," John continued to shout as Sherlock tried to shush him again, this time more loudly. "...but I'm not supposed to have a problem with that, no, because Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna think it's a perfectly OKAY THING TO DO!" John finished, starting of more quietly before he finished more loudly again.

"Shut up, John! We don't want everyone knowing we're still alive!" Sherlock shouted over John in order to be heard.

"Oh, so it's still a secret, is it?" John shouted loudly and I looked at Mary who was just watching them, not knowing how to step in and I sighed heavily. I guess it was my job once again.

"Yes! It's still a secret," Sherlock said loudly and he looked round at the other customers in the shop who were all staring at us. "Promise you won't tell anyone," Sherlock said causally and I took in a deep breath.

"Swear to God!" John shouted angrily and sarcastically. He finally looked round at the other customers and backed down a little, blowing out a long breath. That was when I reached up and smacked the both of them in the back of the head. They turned to me, both glaring and I gave them both dark looks.

"Enough, the both of you!" I shouted over them and John looked at me in shock, never having heard me shout before. Sherlock was more used to it since he had heard me shout to him many times in the last two years but even he looked slightly surprised by my sudden outburst. "John, you might just have to. We're being very serious. No one can know that we are here in London or even alive yet," I told John and he blew out a loud breath. Sherlock stepped closer to him and spoke quietly.

"London is in danger, John. There's an imminent terrorist attack and we need your help," Sherlock told John who stared at him in amazement, then turned to throw a quirky 'can you believe this guy?!' look at Mary. He turned back to Sherlock and me, still not looking happy that I had hit him.

"My help?" John asked us in disbelief and Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he deduced John's genuine reaction to his request, then he smiled. I got a rather bad feeling again and I took a deep breath before sighing heavily.

"You have missed this. Admit it. The thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through your veins, just the three of us against the rest of the world ... Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys," Sherlock told John and I had two seconds warning before John grabbed Sherlock's lapels, reared his head back and then moved in for the kill. Sherlock's nose started bleeding from the force of the head-butt that John had rammed him with and blood started gushing out of it. That was when I did the only thing I could think of as John tried to ram Sherlock up against the wall, I jumped right onto his back and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, not even caring about my stitches which pulled a lot.

"Bloody freaking hell John!" I shouted loudly before he let go of Sherlock to get me off of him. I got down of my own accord and John rounded at me but I poked him right in the chest angrily. "My husband! I get that you're angry but violence is not going to be the solution to this!" I shouted at John angrily before we were shoved out of the shop by the shop's owner.

**Lexi's POV**

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this," John told us and Sherlock hummed at him questioningly, not looking round at him as he drew me to his chest and pressed his nose into my hair, breathing in my scent. "Being back. Being heroes again," John told us and I snorted at that and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, don't be stupid," Sherlock told John as he pulled back from me slightly and stroked my cheek affectionately. I leaned up as he bent down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You two love it," John said and I raised my eyebrow at him. I mean, I loved it a little bit, but we weren't heroes. We were consulting detectives.

"Love what?" Sherlock asked him as he turned round to him.

"Being Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," John told us and I laughed at that.

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean," Sherlock said before he turned and helped me walk down the hall after we put our gloves on.

"Sherlock, Lexi, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?" John asked us and we both stopped, not looking back at him. We knew that he would want to know. We didn't even tell Anderson the truth. The only people who knew exactly what happened were Sherlock and me and well, Molly, Mycroft, Joanna, and twenty-five members of our Homeless Network.

"You know our methods, John. We're known to be indestructible," Sherlock told John as I finally looked back at the army doctor who was watching us both closely.

"No, but seriously. When you two were dead, I went to your graves," John told us and I nodded at him with a slight smile on my face.

"I should hope so," Sherlock told him and I laughed at that.

"You are our best friend after all," I told John and I meant it. John had to be considered to be our best friend.

"I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you two," John told us and I nodded at him slowly.

"We know. We were there," Sherlock told him as he turned round to look at him.

"I asked you two for one more miracle. I asked you two to stop being dead," John told us thickly and I nodded at him with a sad smiled on my face.

"We heard you," Sherlock and I said softly and the three of us looked at each other before Sherlock drew in a sharp breath and turned around.

"Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes and Lexi MacKenna," Sherlock said and I snorted at that and shook my head as Sherlock smiled and helped me towards the door.

"Yeah, this is going to be brilliant," I told Sherlock as we hesitated for a moment by the door. Sherlock reached across to the coat rack and took his deerstalker from its peg before I took my fedora off of it. We looked at each other for a long moment before we put them on our heads. Sherlock tugged his hat into position as I tilted my fedora forward. Sherlock raised his eyebrow at me and I nodded before he pulled the front door open. Sherlock helped me outside and the reporters gathered around us and started taking photos of us and shouting questions at is. John closed the door and stepped to our sides and I looked over at him and grinned before I slipped some folded paper into John's hand. He looked down at it and I gave him a pointed look before I looked back at the reporters. John slipped the papers into his pockets and then we got to be the Baker Street Irregulars. Life at Baker Street would never be the same again though, not when Lexi MacKenna and Sherlock Holmes were living there.

**Sherlock's POV**

Downstairs, on a half-landing partway up the staircase, Sherlock stood with the tips of his fingers against his temples and his eyes screwed closed while John paced impatiently beside him. Lexi had gotten detained by his mother and sent them on ahead and right now he couldn't think without her there. He couldn't remember which room Sholto was in. Lexi would have known but she wasn't here right now so it was up to him and John's pacing wasn't helping him any.

"How can you not remember which room? You remember everything," John asked Sherlock in frustration.

"I have to delete something!" Sherlock shouted irritably as Mary and Lexi ran around the corner, dropping each other's hands as Lexi pelted up the stairs first, Mary just behind her, both women holding their skirts up with one hand to stop themselves from tripping over them.

"207," Lexi and Mary said in unison as the boys chased after them and Sherlock quickly overtook them with his long legs and reached for Lexi's hand. She dropped one of her hands from her skirt and linked her hand with his as Mary took John's hand in hers behind the two detectives and hurried after them. Sherlock looked down and was surprised that she could be moving so quickly in what looked like three inch stiletto heels. They reached the second floor and Sherlock knocked on the door of Room 207 and tried the handle.

"Major Sholto? Major Sholto!" Sherlock shouted, rattling the door handle. He slams the flat of his right hand repeatedly against the door. "Major Sholto!" Sherlock shouted again before Lexi grabbed his hand before he could slam on the door again.

"Major Sholto please," Lexi called to him, her Irish brogue coming out thick and Sherlock kissed the side of her head quickly to comfort her, knowing that it was coming out now because she was under a lot of stress.

"If someone's about to make an attempt on my life, it won't be the first time. I'm ready," Sholto called loudly to them through the door.

"Bollocks!" Lexi yelled angrily back to him and John walked over to the door while Sherlock stepped back, pulling Lexi into his side and tucking her under his chin while he shook out his right hand and flexed his fingers. Lexi took his hand in hers and brought it to her mouth, kissing it and Sherlock smiled down at her.

"Major, let us in," John ordered.

"Kick the door down," Mary told John before she looked over at Lexi who shrugged, knowing that she could do it.

"I really wouldn't. I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes," Sholto called from inside the room and Lexi rolled her eyes.

"And I'm Irish with CIA training Major, do we really want to see who is faster here?" Lexi asked him as she suddenly reached down and pulled a gun out from under her dress and held it up. Sherlock shook his head quickly and looked down at Lexi disapprovingly.

"Calm down dear," Sherlock told her and she huffed. Sometimes he had to remind her when to calm down, especially in situations like this.

"Where did you get a gun?" John asked Lexi in surprise while Mary just rolled her eyes at her.

"Joanna," Lexi shrugged and John threw his arms up in exasperation.

"Oh yeah of course, why not. Guns at a wedding," John said as Sherlock took the gun from Lexi. She pouted at him and Sherlock leaned down and kissed her deeply, removing all traces of it.

"You're not safe in there. Whoever's after you, we know that a locked room doesn't stop him," Sherlock called to Sholto, walking closer to the door as he got back on track.

"We've already seen how that plays out once Major," Lexi called to him as she stepped closer to the door with him.

""The invisible man with the invisible knife,"" Sholto called and Lexi nodded in agreement. He had been listening then.

"We don't know how he does it, so we can't stop him, and that means he'll do it again," Sherlock called to Sholto as Lexi suddenly frowned as if she was trying to figuring something out.

"Solve it, then," Sholto told them sternly and Lexi laughed brightly and smiled.

"I – I'm sorry?" Sherlock stuttered in confusion as he looked to Lexi in surprise over why she was happy about this.

"You're the famous Mr. Holmes and Ms. MacKenna or you were Mrs. Holmes. Solve the case. On you go," Sholto told them and Sherlock straightened up, his eyes rapidly flickering from side to side. "Tell me how he did it and I'll open the door," Sholto told them and John stepped forward again as Sherlock realized why Lexi was smiling. She liked Sholto. They said they could solve your murder so he was holding them to it. She liked him and she would, John only chose the best of companions.

"Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You're in danger!" John shouted at Sholto in exasperation.

"So are you, so long as you're here," Sholto shouted back as Sherlock kissed Lexi's head and then started pacing back and forth across the landing as she and Mary watched him.

"I call bollocks again!" Lexi shouted at Sholto in she crossed her arms over her chest as Sherlock sent her a tiny smirk. Only she would still be sassing him at a time like this. He knew that she was solving the case though. He eyes were flicker between focused and unfocused as if she was entering and exiting her Mind Palace in rapid succession.

"Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don't approve of collateral damage," Sholto called to them and Lexi swore loudly in several languages and insulted someone's mother in several more.

"You're being an idiot!" Lexi finally shouted at Sholto and they all heard a chuckle coming from inside the room.

"That's a compliment coming from you Mrs. Holmes. I've heard a lot about you. Let's see if you're as good as your men say," Sholto told her and Lexi grumbled and muttered something in Russian which Sherlock didn't catch. Sherlock realized what he was doing though. Sholto was putting his faith in the three of them, but most importantly in Lexi.

"Solve it," Mary suddenly ordered the two detectives and Sherlock stopped and looked at her.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked her in confusion as Lexi snorted slightly and rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Solve it, and he'll open the door, like he said," Mary told them as Lexi walked closer to Sherlock and slid her arm around his waist.

"If we couldn't solve it before, how can we solve it now?" Sherlock asked Mary in exasperation and Lexi hummed as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully and Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"Because it matters now," Mary told them and she looked over at Lexi. "And we all know that Lexi won't not solve it. She's already thinking," She said and Lexi shrugged as both boys watched her, knowing that was true.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked Mary before he turned to look at John. "What's she talking about? Get your wife under control," Sherlock told John who looked at him pointedly before flicking his gaze over to Lexi.

"She's right," John said and then he gestured at Lexi. "And you're one to talk. Your wife is trigger happy," John said and Lexi smiled and giggled slightly at that.

"I blame it on Minsk," Lexi said with a shrug as Sherlock pouted.

"Oh, you've changed!" Sherlock said dramatically.

"No, she is," John said as he turned and pointed at him. "Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver – you never have been. You're a drama queen," John told Sherlock and Lexi threw back her head and laughed brightly as Sherlock's mouth dropped open and he stared at John in shock. "Now, there is a man in there about to die," John said loudly. ""The game is on,"" John told them sarcastically before he angrily, pointed at the door. "Solve it!" Sherlock bared his teeth at him, then his eyes suddenly snapped upwards.

"The three of you shut up!" Lexi suddenly shouted, surprising the three of them. "John's right, there is a man in there about to die. So, we solve the murder and save the life. It's what we do and what we've always done, the three of us, so shut up, stop arguing, and work with me," Lexi told them, the boys both shutting their mouths and turning to her in an instant, Mary somewhat surprised as she had never seen them work a case before and certainly never seen them work like this before. "Now, what do we know? Who do Bainbridge and Sholto have in common? Bainbridge was the test run so what were they testing and where? Location of the wound perhaps?" Lexi asked them and John nodded at her as he caught on to her train of thought.

"They were both wearing their uniforms when they were targeted," John pointed out and Lexi grinned proudly.

"Exactly John," Lexi said and Sherlock closed his eyes briefly.

He could see Private Bainbridge in full uniform standing at attention against a white background. Bainbridge rotated as if standing on a turntable, and Sherlock's vision zoomed in to the man's white webbing belt. The image changed to Major Sholto in his dress uniform rotating on the invisible turntable, and again the view zooms in on his white webbing belt. Sherlock then recalled the waiter in the kitchen downstairs reaching down to take hold of the skewer pushed through the middle of the joint of beef. In the shower room at the barracks, Bainbridge unclipped his belt. The waiter slowly begins to pull the skewer out of the joint. Bainbridge unwrapped his belt from around his waist. The skewer came free of the joint, and blood and juice streamed out of the hole. Bainbridge stumbled slightly, looking uncomfortable. Blood continued to pour from the hole in the beef joint. The duty sergeant knocked on the door of the shower cubicle, calling Bainbridge's name. Bainbridge was slumped on the floor inside and bloodstained water poured out under the door. Outside Sholto's bedroom Sherlock opened his again. He stepped over to Mary, took hold of her head in both hands and kissed her forehead.

"Though, in fairness, he's a drama queen too," Sherlock told Mary releasing her, then pointing towards John.

"Yeah, I know," Mary told him and John frowned as Sherlock walked over to Lexi and bent down, kissing her deeply for several long moments before pulling back as she grinned up at him.

"And you are brilliant. Have I ever told you that?" Sherlock asked her and she hummed slightly in contentment.

"Once or twice, but I never get tired of hearing it," Lexi told him before she sobered slightly.

"When did you figure it out?" Sherlock asked her curiously.

"I began to suspect several theories over the last few days. I actually figured it out today while we were going through the case again. I noticed things I missed, certain connections to our Mayfly Man. We were too literal before, we looked at what happened to Bainbridge, not really why it happened," Lexi explained to him and Sherlock nodded before he and Lexi walked over to the door.

"Major Sholto, no-one's coming to kill you. I'm afraid you've already been killed several hours ago," Sherlock called loudly to Sholto.

"What did you say?" Sholto asked them loudly in confusion.

"Whatever you do, don't take off your belt Major," Lexi called to him as she looked over at Sherlock and sighed slightly in relief that they had figured it out.

"My belt?" Sholto asked as Mary and John sent them confused looks as well.

"His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him. Lexi figured it out before with Bainbridge, remember John? She said that it was a delayed stabbing, she also pointed out the fact that Bainbridge was not stabbed in the locked room, and she noticed that they were both wearing the same things, their uniforms and more importantly, the same belt.

"That was how it was done, through his belt," Lexi explained to them quickly.

"Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn't even feel it," Sherlock told them before he looked over to Lexi to finish the explanation for him.

"As long as the belt is on, you're fine. Bainbridge took his off to get in the shower though and minutes later everything that was held together by the belt fell back into its proper places resulting in internal bleeding and then hemorrhaging," Lexi said and John nodded his understanding.

"The-the belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight ...," John said and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"Exactly," She and Sherlock said in unison, surprising John and Mary slightly as they had been doing that quite a lot today.

"... and when you took it off ...," John said, trailing of and Lexi hummed and nodded.

"Delayed action stabbing just as Lexi said. All the time in the world to create an alibi," Sherlock said and he shook the door handle. "Major Sholto?" Sherlock asked in confusion.

"So – I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate," Sholto said from inside the room and Lexi said something under her breath rapidly that no one could understand, not even Sherlock.

"They solved the case, Major. You're supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal," Mary told Sholto and Lexi shook her head slightly, still muttering to herself as Sherlock watched her, raising his eye brow slightly.

"I'm not even supposed to have this anymore. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn't imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose – given the circumstances – I don't have to," Sholto said as Lexi suddenly closed her eyes and Sherlock knew she was calculating for every move that Sholto could make in the next few seconds. He smiled at her proudly, watching her in her element. "When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue," Sholto said and Lexi's eyes flashed open.

"And yet that's never stopped Sherlock and I Major and we get more death threats than you and from some very psychotic people," Lexi said and John, Sherlock, and Lexi shared a look as they all knew who she was talking about.

"Whatever you're doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down," John told Sholto and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"And if he doesn't I will because oddly I've taken a liking to you and that doesn't happen often Major but seeing as we both know John that isn't so surprising," Lexi told him and John looked at her slightly in surprise. "I wasn't really kidding before. CIA training and I'm Irish, that makes me stubborn and dangerous," Lexi told Sholto jokingly.

"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think," Sholto said and John turned away from the door as Sherlock and Lexi walked closer.

"Yes, I think we are," Sherlock agreed with Sholto.

"In many ways," Lexi added with a nod.

"There's a proper time to die, isn't there?" Sholto asked the two detectives.

"Of course there is,' Sherlock told him and Lexi nodded again.

"We've done it once," Lexi told him as she closed her eyes briefly and the opened them again.

"And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier," Sholto said and Lexi nodded once and then again more firmly.

"Of course one should, but not at John's wedding," Sherlock told Sholto firmly. "We wouldn't do that, would we – you and me and Lexi? We would never do that to John Watson," Sherlock asked him and there was silence from inside the room.

"Because that's why we're all here. For John, and the three of us, we would do anything for John Watson. So don't do this now. If two years taught me anything it's that there is always something to live for and friends are one of them. Major, you've shut yourself away for so long you've forgotten to live. Think of this as a second chance," Lexi called to him and then she and Sherlock stepped away from the door and John walked closer, leaning towards the door and listening for any sound from the room. He straightened up and took his jacket off.)

"I'm gonna break it down," John said as Lexi reached down to take off her heels.

"I'll help," Lexi told him and John nodded at her in thanks.

"No, wait, wait, you won't have to," Mary told the both of them and John hummed questioningly as the door suddenly opened. Sholto glanced briefly at Sherlock and Lexi, then lowered his eyes before looking at John.

"I believe I am in need of medical attention," Sholto said and John looked at him thankful that he had opened the door.

"I believe I am your doctor," John told him and Sholto looked up and over at Lexi.

"If Mrs. Holmes might oblige as well," Sholto said and Lexi smiled at him genuinely.

"It would be my pleasure," Lexi told him before she had John followed Sholto as he turned and went back into the room. Giving Sherlock a quick smile, Mary followed him. "Nurse!" Lexi called from inside the room and Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment in amusement, then followed them.

It was all rather straight forward. Lexi called Joanna downstairs and had her call Mycroft's personal ambulance which was told to turn off its emergency sirens as soon as it got close so as not to alert the other guest. Lexi took charge of the situation which John was thankful for and Sholto joked that she would have made a fine soldier in any regiment. After assessing their options, she thought it best for them to keep Sholto's belt on until they could get him to a hospital where he could get immediate medical help. While he didn't like the idea of going to a hospital, Joanna assured him that she had called ahead and cleared out an entire ward just for him and only Mycroft's personal doctor's would see to him and she had already notified Tessa and sent a car to bring her to the hospital. He had said that it was impossible for a woman to do all that and she had told him was British Security Service, saluted him, and walked out of the room to join Mycroft down stairs. Sholto laughed and told John that he had done well for himself and made friends with some rather spectacular and powerful people at which point Lexi reminded him that friends were everything. Once they got him loaded in the ambulance, Lexi told Sholto to keep in touch which he thanked her for, grateful that someone like her would want to be friends with someone like him. Sherlock told him that was Lexi and he kissed her head before they, John, and Mary walked back inside to move onto the rest of the reception, John's Best Man speech long forgotten. It really wasn't needed. It was hard to put into words what type of man Sherlock Holmes was and there were things that Sherlock did that no one would ever be able to understand. John knew though and that was enough. Besides if John had troubles summing up Sherlock, he couldn't even begin to sum up Lexi and he couldn't go into how Sherlock was such an amazing, brilliant, and fantastic person without including Lexi. As Mary and John watched the two detectives laughing and sharing a stolen kiss before they joined every again, they knew they had done the right thing and Sherlock, Sherlock had never felt happier in his life than when he was holding Lexi Holmes in his arms.

**John's POV**

Magnussen walked across the sitting room to a glass door which led out onto a patio. He went outside and looked around. The sky was darkening, as it was early evening. John followed him out onto the patio.

"They're taking their time, aren't they? Joanna must be stalling for them," Magnussen asked him as John stopped beside him, not looking at him.

"I still don't understand," John said as he frowned at Magnussen.

"And there's the back of the T-shirt," Magnussen said as he looked up at the sky. Sherlock and Lexi had finally left the study and were walking slowly towards the patio door together, their hands linked firmly together.

"You just know things. How does that work?" John asked him as he turned his head to look at Magnussen. Magnussen turned to face him as Sherlock and Lexi walked out onto the patio and stopped just outside the door together. John noticed that Lexi looked a lot calmer than before. Whatever had just gone on between them had obviously been much needed. Trust Lexi to know exactly what to say in this situation.

"I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it," Magnussen said suddenly and John stared back at him, his eyes wide as Sherlock suddenly grabbed Lexi around the waist as her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Magnussen," Lexi growled dangerously, and the man ignored her as he continued on.

"Bring it over here a minute," Magnussen told him and John glanced over to Sherlock and Lexi. Lexi looked enraged and it looked like Sherlock was frantically whispering in her ear, trying to calm her down as he held her around the middle. She didn't outwardly fight against him, but John could see Sherlock's muscles straining under his coat as he tried to hold her back from jumping on Magnussen. "Come on," Magnussen encouraged him and very reluctantly and without meeting his eyes, Sherlock gave John a short nod, his face full of pain at having to do this. "For Mary. Bring me your face," Magnussen said and John looked back to Magnussen, who nodded slightly. Clearing his throat, John slowly took two steps closer to him, not looking at Lexi as he did so. He knew this hurt her. She protected him and Sherlock with a passion. Sherlock was having to physically restrain her. This wasn't a time she could protect him. They would be lucky if Magnussen was merciful. Magnussen turned a little to face him, then leaned down to him. "Lean forward a bit and stick your face out," Magnussen ordered him and John cleared his throat again, adjusting his footing. "Please?" Magnussen asked, smirking at him and he leaned closer, chuckling. John locked his gaze on him while he did as instructed. "Now, can I flick it?" Magnussen asked him and John snorted in disbelief, lowering his head and shaking it before raising it again. "Can I flick your face?" Magnussen asked him again. Pursing his lips and looking at him again, John leaned forward. Magnussen lifted his right hand with the back towards John, bent his middle finger under his thumb, held his hand close to John's left cheek and then released the middle finger to flick sharply against his cheek. John blinked instinctively and tilted his head at the man, still holding his gaze. Magnussen flicked his cheek again, then chuckled. "I just love doing this even more so because it inspires such a wonderful response in Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said as he looked back at Lexi who was fighting against Sherlock who she would never hurt, even if she was trying to get herself free. Therefore, it was a losing battle and she finally gave up trying to get out of his arms and fell back against his chest, breathing heavily as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, he eyes narrowed to slits and her teeth bared as she looked at Magnussen. "See how much she cares?" Magnussen asked John as he looked at the two detectives, Sherlock's eyes lowered and pain still on his face as he held an enraged Lexi to his chest. "I could do it all day," Magnussen told John and he chuckled again, then turned back to John. "It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed," Magnussen told John as he flicked his cheek again. Sherlock lifted his gaze and was looking at him, his expression grim as Lexi inhaled sharply and then let out a ragged breath. "I know where to find people who hate her," Magnussen continued and he flicked him again, then again. The soldier stared back at him, tolerating it only because he had no choice. "I know where they live; I know their phone numbers," Magnussen said before he flicked him twice more. "All in my Mind Palace – all of it," Magnussen said as Sherlock and Lexi's gaze towards Magnussen became more intense. "I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down – and I will ...," Magnussen promised him, Sherlock's lips lifted slightly from his teeth as he and Lexi watched. "...unless you let me flick your face," Magnussen finished and then he flicked him three times. Sherlock continued to glare at him with his teeth bared as Lexi started swearing under her breath in multiple languages, cursing him and his mother several times over. "This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries ...," Magnussen told the soldier as he flicked him again, then straightened up. "...just because I know. And Joanna does far worse than me, naughty girl," Magnussen said with a smirk before he bent back down to John. "Can I do your eye now?" He asked and John turned his head a little, looking away. This was humiliating and he didn't have a choice. "See if you can keep it open, hmm?" Magnussen told him and almost before John turned back to him, Magnussen flicked John's left eyebrow. John's eyes instinctively flinched closed and Magnussen sniggered and flicked his eyebrow again. "Come on. For Mary. Keep it open," Magnussen told him as he bent his finger under his thumb again.

"Magnussen!" Lexi spat again, he voice carrying across the space, the full extent of her anger coming through in her voice.

"Oh look that seems to have hit a cord with Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen said gleefully as he smirked at an enraged Lexi, her hair falling around her face wildly and he eyes burning in anger.

"Sherlock? Lexi?" John asked his friends, hoping that they would say no. He knew that if Lexi could have she already would have though.

"Let him. I'm sorry," Sherlock told John quietly, his voice apologetic. Magnussen looked round to him and Lexi for a moment. "Just ... let him," Sherlock said grimly and Lexi smacked Sherlock's arm roughly.

"Sherlock!" She said as she looked up at him in shock.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Sherlock told her before he kissed her head and Lexi slumped in his arms in defeated as John grimaced slightly.

"Come on. Eye open," Magnussen said as he turned back to John. With a bemused look on his face, he flicked John's eyebrow again, and again John's eyes flinched closed for a moment before he glared back at the man as he sniggered and flicked him again. He laughed as John breathed harshly. "It's difficult, isn't it?" Magnussen asked him cheerfully as he straightened up again. "Janine managed it once," Magnussen said as he looked towards Sherlock and Lexi. "She makes the funniest noises," Magnussen smirked as Lexi managed to get free of Sherlock finally as he didn't want to hurt her when she finally broke loose and she stormed forward toward him and John.

"You utter bastard!" Lexi spat as Magnussen turned round, smiling at her.

"Thank you," Magnussen told her. "Why don't we have a deal? I'll stop flicking the solider's face if I get to flick yours. Just once. Let's see if you can keep your eye open," Magnussen told a fuming Lexi.

"No Lexi don't," John protested, not wanting Lexi to demean herself that way but she cut him off before he could finish.

"Deal," She told Magnussen who smirked at her as Lexi rolled her shoulders and looked up before staring right at Magnussen, her mouth drawn into a hard line as she left her eyes opened wide. Sherlock looked like he wanted to stop what was about to happen but he couldn't. John grimaced and looked at Lexi over Magnussen's shoulder as she stared past him and right into his eyes. She nodded slightly as Magnussen brought his fingers up, looking gleeful and then flicked her right in the eye. John's mouth fell open slightly in shock when she didn't even flinch. He was then even more shocked when in one fluid motion she reached up, knocked Magnussen's glasses askew and flicked him right back in the eye. He cried out in pain as she got him right in the eyeball and he clutched his eye as Lexi leaned in closer to him, narrowing her own eyes.

"I have endured pain you wouldn't even fathom Charles Augustus Magnussen," Lexi growled, pronouncing his name in a perfect Danish accent near the end as Magnussen glared at her, fixing his glasses, his right eye closed against the pain he was no doubt still experiencing. "It's not just physical pain. Concentration is key to overcoming anything. That's your problem. You lack focus," Lexi spat at him before she turned on her heel and walked back over to Sherlock. He quickly drew her into his side and kissed the top of her head as she let out a long breath. Sherlock held her against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head as he tried to get her to calm down and think rationally. John had never seen her so angry before. He was certain if she could do worse to Magnussen she would. Any retort the man would have made was interrupted by the sound of an approaching helicopter. It soared over the roof and at the same time, armed police marksmen ran towards the patio. The helicopter dropped down to hover some yards away, its spotlight aimed towards the four of them on the patio. As they were buffeted by the wind from the rotors, Mycroft's voice blared out over a speaker on the helicopter.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson," Mycroft's voice said over the loudspeaker and John looked up and saw him sitting in the helicopter wearing a headset and microphone. Sitting beside him in the co-pilot seat was Joanna wearing a similar headset and from here her expression looked grim. "Stand away from that man," Mycroft ordered before Joanna spoke up when she saw Lexi waver slightly.

"Stand down that is an order," Joanna said through the loudspeaker, her voice coming out in an authoritative manner which almost reminded John of his army days. Joanna could have put some of his commanding officers to shame. Sherlock and Lexi looked away from the helicopter as Magnussen looked over towards them.

"Here we go, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes!" Magnussen told the two detectives gleefully.

"To clarify: Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there," Sherlock said loudly, over the noise of the hovering helicopter, as he and Lexi stepped forward, falling into step beside each other, holding each other's hands tightly as they walked over to John's side.

"Nothing is on paper? Nothing is written down?" Lexi asked Magnussen, shouting over the noise of the rotating blades just to be heard.

"They're not real. They never have been," Magnussen answered her as he looked towards the helicopter hovering overhead and Sherlock and Lexi nodded, sharing a look with each other before they both looked down.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson. Step away," Mycroft ordered over the speaker and John saw Joanna reach up and press on her headset.

"Sherlock, Lexi, John! Back down now!" Joanna ordered them as Magnussen walked forward a couple of steps, waving his hands calmly at the helicopter.

"It's fine! They're harmless!" Magnussen called up loudly as the armed police continued moving into position, aiming their rifles towards the patio. Harmless was the last word John would ever use to describe Lexi and Sherlock. He had seen some of the things Lexi had done in the past. He could still remember an image of her bending over backwards with only a broom in hand as she cut off the downward thrust of a Chinese warrior's sword.

"Targets are not armed. I repeat, targets are not armed," One of the police officers said over the radio and Lexi sighed slightly, closing her eyes a bit and looking down as John looked round at his friend.

"Sherlock, Lexi, what do we do?" John asked them, knowing that this is when they generally had a plan. He turned to look at the helicopter again. They had to have a plan. It couldn't end like this could it?

"John…," Lexi said as she slowly raised her head and met the army doctor's eyes.

"Nothing!" Magnussen said as he looked round at them and Lexi's eyes opened fully as she stood up right with her shoulders back. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them!" Magnussen said and Lexi nodded before she gave John a very pointed look that he could never miss and he would never in his life forget.

"…Vatican Cameos," Lexi said, finishing her sentence and John knew that she had a plan and something major was about to happen. John looked back up at the helicopter as Sherlock turned his head and looked at John his gaze penetrating and intense before he and Lexi shared a long look. For a moment John caught them nod at each other as if agreeing to something before Sherlock raised Lexi's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. She smiled at him fondly for a moment before that slipped away to be replaced with a look of fierce determination.

"Sorry. No chance for you to be heroes this time, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Magnussen told Sherlock and Lexi as Sherlock looked away from John, lowering his gaze but still with a determined look on it as Magnussen turns away from them. Lexi looked down as well her eyes closing and her eyelids fluttering rapidly again as she calculated something.

"Sherlock Holmes, Alexandria Holmes, and John Watson, stand away from that man. Do it now," Mycroft ordered them more firmly and John saw Joanna's eyes widen with some realization as Lexi's eyes snapped open and she looked up at Magnussen.

"Alexandria Holmes don't you dare!" Joanna threatened but Lexi ignored her as Sherlock looked up, standing with Lexi.

"Oh, do your research," Sherlock told Magnussen loudly as he and Lexi stepped closer to John. Sherlock reached round behind the army doctor and into John's coat pocket, then stepped away again as Lexi reached into her own inner jacket pocket, the two detectives walking forward towards Magnussen in unison.

"We're not heroes ...," Lexi told Magnussen, shaking her head ruefully as Magnussen turned to look at them and Lexi shrugged nonchalantly and made a small face.

"We're high-functioning sociopaths," Sherlock corrected Magnussen and the two detectives widened their eyes as they glared at the man.

"Merry Christmas!" The said in unison before Sherlock raised John's pistol and Lexi pulled hers from where she was hiding it under her jacket and quickly turning back to back, they aimed the pistols at Magnussen's head and fired in unison. As John recoiled and even before Magnussen hit the ground, Sherlock and Lexi dropped their guns to the patio and turned towards the helicopter together, raising their hands.

"Man down, man down," The police officer shouted over the radio.

"Get away from us, John!" Sherlock order a stunned John loudly as he turned to look at him. "Stay well back!"

"John. Go! Just get back please!" Lexi told John as she half turned to him, her arms raised over her head as John saw Joanna rip her headset off and turn them both of as she started shouting something frantically to Mycroft. He couldn't hear what was going on by Joanna gestured to Lexi whose expression was grim and Mycroft looked shocked by whatever she told him. From the way Joanna was acting you would think….

"Christ, Sherlock, Lexi!" John said desperately as he raised his own hands and Mycroft suddenly came back on over the speakers.

"Stand fire!" Mycroft ordered frantically in his microphone as Joanna put her headset back on.

"Repeat that is an order. Stand fire!" Joanna shouted as the police marksmen ran towards the patio, aiming their rifles at Sherlock and Lexi as they faced them.

"Do not fire on Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes! Do not fire!" Mycroft shouted loudly as the marksmen took up positions, aiming their laser sights towards Sherlock and Lexi.

"That is an order. Do not fire on Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes!" Joanna repeated frantically.

"Oh, Christ, Sherlock, Lexi," John said, his voice filled with despair. Keeping their hands raised, Sherlock and Lexi looked round to him again. Lexi had a few tears in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Give our love to Mary," Sherlock told John and John stares at them, his face full of anguish. "Tell her she's safe now," Sherlock told John as Lexi nodded, one single tear slipping down her face.

"And you… John Watson, you. Don't… you… ever… forget how much the both of us love you," Lexi told John tearfully and both she and Sherlock took one final look at their best friend and then turned towards the marksmen and the helicopter and began to sink slowly to their knees. John held his own hands high, his eyes full of despair and his breath catching in his throat. Sherlock and Lexi knelt side by side on the patio, their hands raised and their faces anguished. The beams from the laser sights travelled over their faces as they stared ahead of themselves, knowing that they had done something from which no-one could save them this time, not Mycroft, not even Joanna.

**Joanna's POV**

Mycroft and I had been unable to do anything for Sherlock and Lexi until the next morning. Since very early we had been entered into a heated debate with various members of parliament. We had both been to see Sherlock and Lexi who were being kept in a holding cell for the time being. Of course they were being treated roughly as most people thought they were terrorist. They were however hanging in there as they had each other. Though I was livid at Lexi for what she had done, for the stupidity of it, I knew that she would have never let Sherlock shoot Magnussen alone. Now however Mycroft and I were faced with the hardship of trying to save them from their fate. So far, the negotiations were going southwards for us and that was entirely my fault. Mycroft never blamed me for it and I loved him dearly for it. I don't think he ever could deduce just how much I actually love him, but he was the first person who didn't make me feel like a freak. He made me feel beautiful and wanted and loved. But our problems now were my fault even if he would not hold me to that.

The governments of the world hated me. This I knew but they listened to me out of fear of what I could possibly do to them. Mycroft hated me at first too or at least I thought he did but he was the first person to actually want to get to know me and we became friends and from friends to lovers. I was scared getting into a relationship with him to be sure, not because of what I thought others might think but because I had never been in a relationship myself and finding out that neither had he had put me at ease. The problem was when it came out we were married. People lost their respect for Mycroft first. We noticed that it was harder for people to listen to him. He had to fight harder to be heard or else he was overlooked. We came home many nights frustrated and then they stopped listening to me. Then the looks came and the whispers. The general consensus was that Mycroft had only bedded and wedded me to tame me. Of course anyone who had met Mycroft before never thought he could love someone and as for me they thought I was a heartless bitch. When I started showing signs of being pregnant, we lost any power we used to have entirely. It showed that not only were we married but we had relationships of a sexual nature before marriage. Some questioned whether or not Mycroft abused this relationship to get my help. They thought he had married me only so that he could advance himself. And thus right now, showing that I was six months pregnant while we pleaded for Sherlock and Lexi's lives was not helping our case.

I had my hair down this morning but held back by a few elegant clips, my maternity work clothes on which I had thrown on quickly. Neither of us had slept last night. We had spent the entire night trying to figure out a plan to help Sherlock and Lexi and then Mycroft had taken care of me. He had been worried that the drug they had given us might have some after affects that might hurt the baby but I assured him that Sherlock and Lexi would never do something that would knowingly hurt our little angel. He was going to make such a good father already. He was so protective of Sherlock and Lexi and so was I. I used to be scared of becoming a mother and while I knew Mycroft was still terrified I wasn't anymore because I knew we could do this together. Maybe marrying Mycroft had tamed me a little. Becoming a mother and a wife had made more conscious of my behaviours before. I still was a bit reckless and I still had attitude, but I was also more caring and loving, emotions I had long since forgotten how to feel. Mycroft was the same way. We rescued each other from ourselves. He asked me once if I had any regrets about being with him and I told him no. I was married to my best friend and we could have our happy ending too, sometimes reality could be your fairytale. Mycroft was standing at the glass wall of the large meeting room we were in. He had his back to the room and was looking outside. A suited man stood nearby to his right. I was sitting just behind him as my feet were tired today. In fact I was just tired today and the little munchkin was kicking up a storm still. I rubbed my hand over the spot where our little girl was kicking and I saw Mycroft's eyes soften a bit as he caught my movement in the reflection of the glass.

"As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs a blunt instrument. Equally, it sometimes needs a dagger – a scalpel wielded with precision and without remorse," Mycroft said as he looked over to his left, trying once again to convince the members of parliament to what we had been arguing on for the past two hours. "There will always come a time when we need Sherlock and Alexandria Holmes," Mycroft finished and several men sitting at the tables in the room looked back at him silently. They shot scathing looks at me which I ignored for the fifth time this session. I was seated near Lady Smallwood, the only person in this room who I was still on good terms with. The men could all kiss my arse. It was the man standing near Mycroft that spoke next, Sir Edwin.

"If this is some expression of familial sentiment ...," Sir Edwin began and Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed, turning to him as I growled slightly under my breath. I was tired of these games.

"Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion," Mycroft told Sir Edwin and I snorted, fixing my husband with a look as he looked down for a moment. He caught my eye and I raised my eyebrow at him. He would always be a big brother no matter how many times Sherlock got into trouble or annoyed him. He turned to Sir Edwin again, breaking our eye contact. "You know what happened to the other one," Mycroft said and I grimaced ad Sir Edwin looked away from him, doing the same. Mycroft turned to look out the window again while I decided it was time for me to speak up. To hell with them not wanting to hear from me.

"This is not a matter of familial sentiment," I began and all eyes turned to me. Sir Edwin turned around but Mycroft continued to stare out the window, only watching my reflection in the glass. He gave me a cautious look and I nodded at him slightly to let him know it was alright. "Yes, Sherlock is Mycroft's brother and Lexi is his sister in law the same way Sherlock is my brother in law and Lexi my sister in law. But this is not about them being family. We did not come here today to try and convince you to pardon them. We know what it is that they have done. We know that they must answer for this, but not in the way you would currently have it," I argued with the room, finding my voice just as easily as I had before. Some people were terrified of speaking in front of others but I never was. I spoke my mind and I did it plainly. If you didn't like what I said you could fuck off.

"There is no prison in which we could incarcerate Sherlock and Alexandria without causing a riot on a daily basis," Mycroft told the room at large, adding to my claims and I looked over at my husband with a soft look. We promised to do this together and we were.

"Every prison is filled with murders, psychopaths, and terrorist that Sherlock and Alexandria have put there," I told the room as I looked away from my husband. I hated having to use Lexi's formal name but in this situation it was required. "If we incarcerate them not only will be their riots but there will be plots to kill the both of them before the week is out. We must afford them a level of security. Not only that, but I trained Alexandria myself," I told the room and the men all looked at me with mixed expressions of anger and surprise at being reminded to the fact that I was an intelligence agent, not a British member of parliament and yet I had some power left in their government. "There is no prison that could ever hold me and thus none that could ever hold Alexandria. Incarcerate them and I promise you they will both be out of their cell in under three hours, especially if you separate them, then I give it an hour and a half," I told the room, knowing that Lexi would fight even harder to escape if she was separated from Sherlock.

"The alternative," Mycroft said as he looked left towards where Lady Smallwood was sitting at a table. "...would require your approval," Mycroft told the members of parliament.

"Hardly merciful, Mr. Holmes," Lady Smallwood scoffed and I narrowed my eyes. Yes, it was hardly a good plan. Quite frankly it was terrible but I believed in Sherlock and Lexi and I knew that even under these circumstances they could find a way out of them. Besides we had a better hope of them possibly surviving than if they were incarcerated. Everyone thought they were terrorists, even the guards would be willing to kill them for the right price some just out of loyalty to the crown. Some guards used to be in the RAF.

"Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my brother and his wife are murderers," Mycroft told Lady Smallwood before he turned away and looked out of the window again. Oh but they had killed more than just Magnussen, this was just the only public murder that could be linked to them.

"With all due respect Mr. Holmes, Miss Reyer," Lady Smallwood said and I snapped my head around to her.

"It's Mrs. Holmes," I corrected her icily as I narrowed my eyes at her and Mycroft turned around as soon as he heard my tone of voice. Several members of parliament shifted in their seats uncomfortably as many shot looks between Mycroft and I.

"Mrs. Holmes…," Lady Smallwood corrected herself with a slight nod and I lifted my head up as Mycroft walked closer over to me, sensing that I was getting angry. Peanut was kicking a bit more now too and I rubbed the spot a bit more, trying to sooth her. I took a deep calming breath hoping that maybe if I calmed down it would calm her down. The doctor said that if I was too stressed it stressed out the baby. "We cannot agree to this proposal simply because of your concerns. If they were anyone else this is what we would do. We will not make exceptions because they are your family or because they are celebrities. We are the government, we do not haggle," Lady Smallwood said and I finally broke. I chuckled, the sound filling the room and Mycroft froze and tensed instantly as everyone's eyes turned to me. "I'm sorry Mrs. Holmes did I say something funny?" Lady Smallwood asked me and I nodded and her, still laughing a bit before I pushed back in my chair and stood up to my full height which, while not much, could still be pretty imposing when I wanted it to be. I shot Mycroft a look that he better not stop me and he just smirked ever so slightly, knowing what I was going to do before I even opened my mouth to speak. He moved out of my way as I walked to the head of the room and turned to face all of parliament.

"Exceeding funny Lady Smallwood," I told the woman with a bit of bite to my words as I rolled back my shoulders. I might waddled when I walked, I might look like I swallowed a watermelon, but I couldn't remember when that changed anything. "I seem to remember that it was you that hired Sherlock and Lexi to retrieve some letters of a scandalous nature from Magnussen," I started and Lady Smallwood paled and spluttered as everyone turned to look at her. Her husband had killed himself recently when the news had broken. "You see you put them in Magnussen sights. The man was obsessive about them. You might recall about three years ago the trail of James Moriarty. He was another man obsessive about Sherlock and Lexi and it led to their faked deaths," I said before I looked out at all the members of parliament, my eyes narrowed and I shook my head before smiling ruefully and chuckling again. "I don't seem to be able to recall when it is that you lot decided that you could stop listening to me. Last time I checked, I could still topple your entire government with a few lines of computer code. I could tear you down in an instant and there is nothing you can do. You can't touch me and you can't imprison me because I could just walk right out of there. I've done it before," I threatened and Sir Edwin spoke up like I knew he was dying too.

"But you wouldn't now would you?" He asked me and I turned to him, raising my eyebrow.

"Do you want to bet?" I asked him and he gestured to Mycroft.

"You married Mycroft Holmes, you won't do a thing. In fact you're carrying his child. We all know what you did. What was it? What was the deal you two made" Sir Edwin asked as he looked at Mycroft, directing the conversation to him. "Fuck the little whore and marry her and she would make sure you got advanced to the highest position? Not like you didn't already have more power than anyone else. Maybe we're just tired of listening to you two," Sir Edwin said before he found himself slammed onto the table by a pregnant woman, his hand pulled behind his back. He let out a cry of pain as I manhandled him. Mycroft was at my side, his face red with rage and his expression livid. He looked like he very much wanted to hurt Sir Edwin and several members of parliament were on their feet, looking to come to his aid. I looked at them and laughed breathlessly.

"Don't even fucking think about it," I said and I grinned to myself for a moment as I realized that the old me was coming back. Oh she had never left, but she had been toned down a lot. Apparently she came out when Mycroft or my baby were threatened. Momma bears were a force you didn't want to mess with. I twisted Sir Edwin's arm once more for good measure before letting him go. "So that's what you all think?" I asked the room as I stared pacing in front of them and I looked over at Mycroft and grinned at him mischievously. "Well I have to admit he was a good shag," I said and Mycroft smirked instead of blushing or spluttering. "No you see, what happened if all of your little brains can possibly comprehend it, is two people fell in love. I know it's such a tremendously complicated concept," I said as I walked over to Mycroft and slipped and arm around his waist and he did the same to me. "There was never an agreement or a ploy for power. And guess what. Just because he is the British Government and just because I am married to him, I won't stop at destroying you bit by little bit if I so choose. The way our relationship has always worked is personal life is separated from our life at work. So don't think for one second that marriage has tamed me," I said as I pulled away from Mycroft's side. "In fact, I rather think it's made me far worse. If you think women are bad in general, try mothers. So…," I said as I took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm going over all of your heads," I told the members of parliament who looked at me in rage. "Because last time I checked I have that power. Sherlock and Lexi are going into the MI6 program and as for all of you…," I said as I looked round at Mycroft. "If I have so much as one problem from any of you again you can find out just why the governments of Spain, France, Russia, and China, are still frightened of me," I warned all of them as they all looked back at me and I took a deep breath and nodded once, glad that I had taken control once more. I didn't seen any issues over who had power in the government coming up again in the future. "Honey," I said and I smiled back at Mycroft and offered him my hand. He took it and wordlessly we left the room. As soon as we were alone together in the car he brought me closely to him and kissed me passionately.

"That was incredible," He told me as we broke apart and I grinned up at him as I caressed his face. "You always look so beautiful when you…," Mycroft said before I chuckled and cut him off with another deep kiss.

"When I tell the government to fuck off?" I finished for him as we broke apart again and Mycroft chuckled lightly beside my ear as he nuzzled my neck. I sighed in contentment before I cuddled myself into his side. He placed his hands over my stomach and kissed the top of my head.

"How are you?" He asked me and I knew he meant how was the kicking.

"She settled down once I started telling them off. I think she is going to be a force to reckon with if she has our attitudes," I laughed and Mycroft kissed my cheeks as I nuzzled my face into his chest, breathing in his scent. Under his hand, our little angel kicked. "And once again she makes her presence known," I told Mycroft and he chuckled lightly.

"Everything is going to be alright," Mycroft assured me as we settled back down together, the three of us safe and together.

"I know amante," I sighed before I looked up at him and kissed him lightly, this kiss tender and sweet. "I know," I told him before I settled back down on his chest.

**Lexi's POV**

A black car drove along the runway towards where an executive jet was stationary on the tarmac. Standing near the nose of the plane, Sherlock, Mycroft, Joanna, and I along with a security man watched the car pull up. Sherlock and I had spent two days in a holding cell together as we waited to find out our fate. Mycroft and Joanna informed us that they had gotten us into the MI6 project they had originally had us decline. It was all they could do. We could not be pardoned and for once there was no getting out of this and we knew it. We would go together though. We would always do things together because that was the promise I made to him, one of my last vows. The four of us had already said our goodbyes earlier. Joanna was far more emotional but then we expected that. We had come up with a lie to tell Sherlock's parents. We told them we were going traveling and Joanna and Mycroft would cover up the news that we were the ones that killed Magnussen. It was better for them to not know the truth. Now we just had two more people to say goodbye to. Sherlock held me closely to him, Mycroft doing the same with Joanna, as we stood waiting as Mary got out of the rear door nearest the plane and John got out from the other side. Smiling, Mary walked towards Sherlock and me, John following behind her looing slightly distant. We were saying goodbye to him all over again and it was breaking my heart. Only this goodbye was more final.

"You will look after him for us, won't you?" Sherlock asked Mary as I smiled at my best friend and sister fondly. Despite everything Mary would always be a sister to me and I would always love her. Besides, she was not Mary Morstan she was Mary Watson and a Watson would always be my family.

"Oh ...," Mary said as she stepped In between us and put her hands on each of our shoulders before we kissed her on opposite cheeks and she kissed us in return before hugging us both. "...don't worry. I'll keep him in trouble," She assured us and I laughed brightly as Sherlock smiled at her as she released us and pulled back.

"That's our girl," Sherlock told her as I gestured down to Mary's very large stomach. Baby Watson would be making an appearance very soon now.

"He'll have you to take care of and a baby is more than enough danger for him. Besides if they're anything like the both of you they're going to be a handful," I told Mary and she laughed brightly, giving me one more one armed hug as Sherlock and I refused to let each other go before she turned and walked back to where John had stopped a few paces away, and took his hand. John nodded to Sherlock and me in greeting and I smiled at the army doctor ruefully and waved my fingers at him playfully, earning a slight smile despite the situation. Sherlock turned to his Mycroft and Joanna who were watching us stoically.

"Since this is likely to be the last conversation we'll have with John Watson ...," Sherlock began and John sighed painfully. The three of us all knew that this was the end. The end of the Baker Street Irregulars, Lexi MacKenna and her Baker Street Boys. "...would you mind if we took a moment?" Sherlock asked Mycroft who looked a little startled. Joanna looked up at Mycroft before nodding and Mycroft glanced over to the security man and jerked his head towards the side of the plane. The security man, Mycroft, Joanna, and Mary walked along the side of the jet towards the wing, Joanna and Mary waddling more than walking, and Sherlock and I turned to John, who smiled at us and nodded.

"So, here we are," John started looking vaguely around the airfield and clearing his throat before he stepped closer to us.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes," Sherlock said suddenly, breaking the awkward tension and I giggled as I looked up at him, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Sorry?" John asked him, frowning in confusion as I watched my boys for the last time.

"That's the whole of it – if you're looking for baby names," Sherlock told John who chuckled and I shook my head at my boys fondly.

"No, we've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl," John told us and I grinned, looking back at Mary. Well, little Baby Watson and Cosette would be the best of friends. Holmes and Watson' children would have to be after all and I already made Joanna and Mycroft promise they wouldn't abandon John.

"Oh," Sherlock said softly before he smiled. "Okay," He said before they both looked awkwardly anywhere except at each other for several seconds. I was reminded of when I had first met John and I had watched the most painful silence between him and Mike. I smiled mischievously before I slipped out of Sherlock's arms and stood beside my boys, my hands linked behind my back, rocking backward on my heels in the same gesture I had done as when I had first met John. He noticed it and looked over at me as did Sherlock.

"Well if that is the case, it's Alexandria Amelia Elspeth Holmes. Alexandria and Elspeth are a bit old fashioned but Amelia is nice or just Amy," I told John as I grinned at him. "I wouldn't be against you naming her Lexi either," I told John and he chuckled brightly. John had once offered us up baby names, we were just repaying the favour.

"Yeah," John agreed vaguely as he turned and looked across the airfield before he finally turned towards Sherlock and me again. "Actually, I can't think of a single thing to say," John told us honestly and I nodded at him in understanding.

"No, neither can I," Sherlock agreed as he looked down and I reached forward and took each of their hands in one of my own and they turned and looked at me.

"Well I can," I told them as I smiled up at them brightly. "My boys," I said as I looked at the both of them before I threw myself at them and hugged them tightly, the both of them hugging me back just as tightly. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about the first day we met," I told them as we pulled back to look at each other and I raised my hand to both of their cheeks. "John Watson," I said as I gazed at our army doctor, taking in his kind cornflower blue eyes that looked a bit older than when we had met. We had been through so much the three of us. "I made it my secret mission that day to rescue you from yourself. You seemed so at odds with the world," I told him and he looked up at me as I sighed. "And you," I said as I looked at Sherlock and smiled at him fondly as he watched me with a soft expression. "You were in need in of a friend," I told him and he nodded at me. "A Study in Pink," I told them with a chuckle. "Anderson and Donovan's faces when we walked into the crime scene together, the drug's bust, meeting Mycroft, you saving our lives," I told John before I laughed bright. "Then I saved your arses next with the Blind Banker. Van Coon and Dimmock. Interesting case all around. Glad you met Mary because I still hate Sarah," I told John and he sighed and rolled his eyes as Sherlock chuckled. "And Moriarty. We kicked his arse not once but twice but that was after the Woman and then Hound. We've done a pretty good job the three of us. My Baker Street Boys," I told them as John looked at me gruffly.

"The game is over," John said quietly and I shook my head as Sherlock and I met his eyes.

"Never," I told John as I slid back into Sherlock's arms and John took a step away from us.

"The game is never over, John ...," Sherlock told our army doctor firmly before his tone became quieter. "...but there may be some new players now. It's okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end," Sherlock told him before he bent down and pressed a kiss to my hair which was blowing lightly in the breeze around the airfield.

"What's that?" John asked Sherlock curiously as I sighed.

"It's a story my brother told me when we were kids," Sherlock told John and I chuckled a bit at that and Sherlock and John looked over at me.

"Mycroft told that story to me too, only I was in the hospital after getting run over by a cab and I was not exactly a child," I told the boys and Sherlock chuckled a bit before sobering, remembering the only instance when I had gotten taken out by one of London's cabbies.

"The East Wind – this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path," Sherlock explained to John, sniffing and looking off into the distance as I looked up at him and rubbed my thumb along his jawbone. "It seeks out the unworthy ...," Sherlock said before he met John's eyes. "...and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me," He finished and I hummed in agreement.

"Or me," I added and Sherlock looked down at me, rolling his eyes.

"Nice!" John told us and I nodded, chuckling s bit.

"He was a rubbish big brother," Sherlock told him and they both smiled.

"And a rubbish substitute sometimes," I added and the three of us smiled for a moment longer before John looked down, clearing his throat.

"So what about you two, then?" John asked us, asking us the inevitable question and I looked down before looking back up at him as he lifted his head and I kept my expression neutral. "Where are you two actually going now?" John asked us and I looked up at Sherlock. We had already discussed this and we had agreed that John was never to know. We would not do that to him for a second time.

"Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe," Sherlock told him in a bored tone, playing it off.

"Nice break for us actually. Like old times. Boring stuff really. Might work on my tan a bit," I told John with a tight laugh which he didn't even pick up on and Sherlock held me closer to him, rubbing calming circles onto my hip.

"For how long?" John asked us and I looked up at Sherlock as he looked slightly above John's head so as not to meet his eyes.

"Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong," Sherlock said and I squeezed his hand which was holding mine before I reached up on tip toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes for a moment before pulling back. I wanted to comfort him but if I did it would only bring suspicion to us.

"And then what?" John pressed and we met his gaze for a moment before Sherlock looked down thoughtfully. I smiled at John slightly, knowing our army doctor only wanted to be assured that wherever we were going we would be happy and safe even if he could never see us again. Sherlock raised his head again and gazed off into the distance before he shrugged.

"Who knows?" Sherlock told John and John nodded at him.

"On to the next adventure," I told John as I looked up at Sherlock and he gazed down at me. "There's always something new…," I told him and Sherlock nodded at me as I brushed a few of his curls back and John nodded again before he turned away to look across the airfield again, breathing in deeply. Sherlock and I looked directly at him until he turned back and then Sherlock looked down again.

"John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now," Sherlock said suddenly and he hesitated for a long time, clutching my hand tightly as he fought to get it out. I nodded at him encouragingly and after a second he shook his head, letting me know that he just couldn't do it, not now and I nodded at him in understanding, holding him closer to me and he drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to John's who was watching him expectantly. "Sherlock is actually a girl's name," Sherlock said, and I giggled at what he had come up with telling him at the last minute instead of the confession he meant to tell him. John turned away, giggling almost silently and Sherlock smiled at him. John turned back to us still smiling.

"It's not," John told him, giving him a pointed look and Sherlock shrugged, holding me closer to him as I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles.

"It was worth a try," Sherlock told him as I shook my head. Sherlock had wanted to tell him how much John meant to him but he couldn't do it. Expressing his feelings had never been easy for him and I knew that.

"We're not naming our daughter after you," John told Sherlock as he looked over at me with a bemused expression on his face.

"I think it could work," Sherlock told John and the army doctor chuckled.

"I think Lexi works better mate," John argued and I grinned brightly and giggled before the three of us sobered and meet each other's eyes. Sherlock and I held John's gaze for a second, then lowered our eyes. I lifted mine again and sighed as I smiled sadly at John.

"John, there's too much I could say but there are no words to express the way I feel properly," I told the army doctor as I shook my head at him sadly. "I am proud to call you a friend and a brother. John Watson," I said and I sighed again as John sniffled a bit and looked away from us. "John…we're not going to be around anymore but Mary is going to need you and so is your daughter. So…," I said as I reached out and touched his arm. "Make us proud, like you always do," I told John as I nodded at him and Sherlock took off his right glove and held out his hand to John.

"To the very best of times, John," He told him and I smiled at my boys.

"And to all the days that never were," I added and John hesitated for a long while, then he finally took Sherlock's hand and shook it. They stood there for a couple of seconds, then Sherlock gave John's hand one more small pump before releasing it. John and I closed the distance between us and I hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek before I drew back, proud of myself for not crying and Sherlock and I turned away from our army doctor, Sherlock putting his glove back on before we joined hands and walked away from him.

John watched us leave as we walked along the side of the plane. I nodded over to Joanna, Mycroft, and Mary as we walked to the steps of the plane and the boarded it. It was only once I was sitting beside Sherlock, nestled into his side, my head tucked under his chin and his arms holding me tightly to his chest that I let the first few tears slip free. Shortly afterward the plane taxied along the runway. Sherlock and I sat inside looking out of one of the right-hand windows getting our last look at our beautiful England. I had finally stopped crying and I was letting Sherlock play with my hair as I sat with him. He was humming quietly as I closed my eyes, breathing in time with him, my heart beating steadily in my chest. Mary and John stood by the car, holding hands and watching from the left-hand side of the plane as it lifted into the sky. Sherlock and I continued to gaze out of the window, and the plane flew off into the distance. I turned my head up and kissed Sherlock lightly and he returned the gesture. Together…the East Wind had taken us. Plucking the unworthy from the Earth, but in the end I kept my promise. Six months…it wasn't long…but…I would take anytime I had left with Sherlock because each day with him was eternity.

**Third Person POV**

In the Auld Dubliner in Central London a football match on the SPORTS 1 channel played on one of the tellies. The score showed SFC 0 – 0 INTER. Men's voices could be heard shouting encouragingly around the pub as the commentary played over the footage.

"Smith brings it inside. This looks good," The commentator said as the screen fritzed briefly. "Cassandra comes in for a shot ...," The commentator continued while on the TV, a player volleyed the ball towards the goal but it flew over the top. In the pub, the customers groaned, including the owners sons who were watching the match instead of working. "Oh, he missed it!" The commentator said. One of the customers was Greg Lestrade, who was standing at the bar, having a drink as he tried to forget everything that was currently going on, Sherlock and Lexi being exiled from London after murdering Magnussen. He grimaced at the horrible play. The TV fritzed again and one of the male customers called out to the landlord, Ferguson.

"Oi! What's up with the telly? There's something wrong with the telly, mate!" The customer called out as the TV fritzed even more.

"Give it a whack, then!" Another customer shouted and Greg looked up at the screen, which had gone to static, but it slowly began to clear and a shape could just about be seen through all the distortion. It seemed to be a head and shoulders shot of someone facing to the right with their head turned away from the camera. Greg stared up at the TV in confusion and his face filled with shock as the picture became clearer.

"Who's that?" The first customer asked as over the TV a voice began to speak. It was speaking through a device which distorted the voice.

"Did you miss me?" The person asked in a high pitched voice before it shifted to a very deep tone. "Did you miss me?" The person repeated and Greg threw a few bills down on the bar and grabbed his coat before he ran for the door of the pub. As Joanna or Lexi would say combined, bloody fuck.

In 221B, Mrs Hudson was vacuuming the living room. She had the TV switched on and the voice came over the speaker.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked in a high pitched voice before it changed to a deep tone. She looked at the screen before she jumped in shock and started to scream.

At Bart's, Molly stared in horror from the lab into a room next door which had a TV playing on a table.

"Did you miss me?" The person asked in a deep voice.

In the conference room which Joanna and Mycroft Holmes had made such a grand performance only the day before, Lady Smallwood stared up from her seat, looking at a TV screen.

"How is this possible?" Lady Smallwood asked in horror, confusion, and shock.

"We don't know, but it's on every screen in the country – every screen simultaneously," Sir Edwin told her in confusion, his arm in a sling due to Joanna Holme's man handling of him, standing beside her, also looking at the screen.

"Has the Prime Minister been told?" Lady Small wood asked him before she looked round and up to Sir Edwin. "And Mycroft?" She asked him before paling. "Joanna?" She asked him hesitantly.

"But that's not possible," Mycroft said sitting in the back seat of a stationary car and talking into a phone, his hand that was not holding the phone to his ear over Joanna's stomach as the baby kicked his hand exuberantly. Joanna was on her phone texting rapidly, her hair falling down around her face and she looked up at him, nodding in confirmation of the news they had just received. Mycroft opened the door and he got out before helping Joanna from the car. "That is simply not possible," Mycroft said into the phone before he looked across to where John and Mary were holding hands and looking towards them. He frowned at them as Joanna let out a puff of air and grabbed for her stomach, groaning slightly at what was no doubt a massive kick from their daughter.

"Fuck," Joanna swore and Mycroft turned to his wife and frowned at her. "Alright, wasn't quite expecting this," Joanna said as she brought her hands up to her temples and rubbed her head before she slid her hand into his.

"What's happened?" John asked as he released Mary's hand and walked towards him.

"Funny story Watson…," Joanna began as she looked up at her husband and then at the army doctor. "Just how dead do you recall Jim Moriarty being?" Joanna asked John who frowned at her in confusion before Joanna held up her phone to show him what was currently broadcasting around London.

In the executive jet, Sherlock and Lexi were still looking out of the window.

"Sir? Ma'am?" A man asked them and Sherlock and Lexi looked round as a man held a phone out towards them. "It's your brother," The man told Sherlock and Sherlock took the phone and held it to his ear in between himself and Lexi so that they both could hear the conversation.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked in confusion, wondering why his brother was calling them so soon.

"Hello, little brother, sister mine. How is the exile going?" Mycroft asked them calmly and Lexi frowned before smirking lightly as she raised her eyebrow.

"Miss me already Croft? I know I'm adorable but…," Lexi asked as she looked up at Sherlock and he got what she was saying.

"We've only been gone four minutes," Sherlock said and Lexi hummed in agreement.

"Well, Joanna and I certainly hope you've learned your lesson," Mycroft told them, now sitting in the back of his car again next to Joanna, and smiling pleasantly.

"As it turns out, you two are needed. Four minutes without you both and the world goes to shit. Which is good news for us because I get to be all scary and pull some strings," Joanna said cheerfully as she looked over at Mycroft and grinned at him.

"Oh, for God's sake. Make up your minds. Who needs us this time?" Sherlock asked his brother and sister in law in exasperation as in Mycroft's car, the distorted voice could be heard.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The person asked, the voice pitched high. Joanna and Mycroft looked to the front of the car where a small TV screen was set into the dashboard. On the screen was a still photograph of Jim Moriarty facing the camera and smiling. To the left of his mouth was the message:

MISS ME?

The jaw of Jim's photograph had been animated so that it moved up and down a little as the voice repeated over and over.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It asked in that same high pitched voice.

In Piccadilly Circus in London, the huge screens above the street were each filled with the same part-animated image of Jim's smiling face with the message beside it, and the voice played over the speakers.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" The voice asked in a high pitched whine. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" It repeated over and over in that same high pitch.

In the back of the car, as the voice played on, Mycroft spoke a single word into his phone in response to Sherlock's question.

"England," Mycroft told his brother with a somewhat exasperated sigh in his voice.

"Only England?" Lexi scoffed, raising her eyebrows.

"Well we can throw in Ireland, the Commonwealth, and Scotland too if you like," Joanna told her before she kissed Mycroft's cheek and slipped out of the car, joining Mary and John just as Mary looked over at her husband.

"But he's dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty," Mary said in confusion as Joanna looked up at the cloudy sky which threatened rain at any second.

"Absolutely. He blew his own brains out," John agreed with her and Joanna hummed slightly and the army doctor looked over at her.

"So how can he be back?" Mary asked and then she looked over at Joanna. "Joanna?" She asked as she noticed the other woman's expression.

"That Mary is exactly what I want to know because last time I checked James Moriarty was fucking dead. I made sure of it," Joanna said as she thought back to that day over two years ago when she had helped Lexi and Sherlock fake their deaths.

"Well, if he is ... he'd better wrap up warm," John told both women, turning and looking to his right. Mary and Joanna turned to follow his gaze. "There's an East Wind coming," John told them and he, Mary, and Joanna watched as Sherlock and Lexi's plane came in to land.

**Lexi's POV**

I looked over at Sherlock as soon as we got off the phone with Mycroft and we frowned for a moment before breaking into wide smiles and laughing, flinging ourselves at each other and hugging each other tightly. He kissed my face before pulling me into a deep kiss of joy as we felt the plane change course, turning back around. When we finally pulled apart, breathing slightly heavily Sherlock nuzzled his face into my neck and breathed in deeply.

"Did you?" He asked me curiously and I shook my head quickly. I knew that he was thinking that somehow I had come up with a plan to get us out of our fate but I hadn't. I didn't have the time nor did I know this was even going to happen.

"No," I told him before I shuddered. "How can he be back?" I asked Sherlock before I start to feel the bile raise in my throat. "Sherlock, we saw him die. He shot himself right in the head in front of us!" I said frantically and he pulled me closer to him. "You can't survive that! He can't be alive!" I shouted and Sherlock grabbed my face in his hands.

"I don't know," Sherlock told me as I breathed heavily and he kissed me deeply. "I don't know and I don't like not knowing," He repeated as he tucked me into his chest protectively. I clung to his arm as I felt our descent. "What I know is that I love you and that I will protect you," Sherlock promised me and I looked up at him as I felt the jolt of the plane as we landed and the plane speed down the runway before slowing down. "Whatever happens next we'll get through it like we always have," Sherlock told me as I blinked up at him, taking comfort in hearing his heartbeat under my ear and smelling his comforting scent. "Together," Sherlock told me and I smiled at him brightly before I leaned up and kissed him deeply.

"Together," I promised him. Sherlock and I got up from our seats after the stairs were lowered back down and we clasped hands and left the plane together, only having been gone ten minutes at most. A light rain was falling now though as we stepped back out of the plane and out onto the tarmac. The East Wind wasn't coming for us, at least not now. We stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking across at our army doctor who was smiling at us brightly and I put a hand over my stomach and looked up at Sherlock. He looked down at me and kissed me lightly before placing his hand over mine, splaying his fingers out. Yes, the East Wind was no longer blowing and we would be all right…all three of us.

**Alternatively…**

Captain John Watson, wearing a Victorian military uniform, was standing in a battlefield.

He flinched as a shell exploded close behind him, breathing rapidly in and out as he ducked his head down, the spray of dirt and bomb shells flying over his head. He fell to his knees in the sandy dirt, trying to escape getting blown to smithereens as his comrades around him shouted out orders or cries of pain.

"The second Afghan War brought honours and promotions to many," Watson recalled as he rushed over to a fallen colleague and squatted down next to him. In the waking world however he rolled over in his bed as he attempted to try and get back to sleep. "...but for me it meant nothing but misfortune and disaster." He continued as he dreamt, remembering as he cowered as another shell exploded behind him as he was tending to his colleague and they were both sprayed with earth. In the distance, an enemy soldier lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. All John heard was the sound of the bullet as it left the soldier's rifle before it impacted with his left shoulder and he fell to the ground in both shock and pain. In his bed he trashed into a new position, groaning quietly as he recalled that same pain. In his dream however one of his colleagues dragged him to safety and out of the line of fire where he could be tended to.

_"_You all right, Captain?" The solider asked him in concern and that was when John saw her, a woman, out on the battlefield. He tried to get the soldier's attention to alert him to the woman's presence as a battlefield was no place for a woman, but he was growing weaker with every passing moment and the soldier had returned to the battle as the cover of fire had grown steadier once more.

"John," The woman said, her copper coloured hair looking like a blazing fire in this Afghan heat as she kneeled beside him now that he was alone having been dragged off to the side of the battlefield to await his fate. "Hang in there John. I'm here," The woman told him and that was when John realized that the woman was wearing strange clothing. For one, she was wearing trousers of an odd material and another, she was wearing a long woolen coat and a strange hat and scarf. The halo of light around her made her appear to him like an angel however. The woman smiled at him and reached out and touched his forehead and that was the moment when John woke up again, his face covered in sweat and his breathing labored. He could still hear and see explosions going off on the battlefield before his closed eyes, but if he opened them he almost caught a fleeting glimpse of copper coloured hair as if the phantom from the battlefield truly did exist in the waking world.

"I returned to England with my health irretrievably ruined and my future bleak," Watson narrated in his mind as he limped along a busy London street with the aid of a cane as many horse-drawn carriages and people walking along the pavement bustled past him. "My psyche damaged from both the horrors of war and that which I had seen as I lingered between life and death. For the longest of times I was haunted by the memories of my military service. The noises of a single bustling street were enough to take me back to the battlefield. But as long as she was there the battlefield disappeared. One smile from this phantom of my imagination and you could be set at ease, even if you would turn your head and she would disappear once more back into the realm of the supernatural," Watson concluded as he walked along the street, supported greatly by his cane. "Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are drained," John supposed, feeling strangely that these words had been used to describe the city before, only not by him. As he was caught up in his own inner musings he was interrupted as a man called out from behind him on the street.

_"_Watson!" The man called for a second time, finally catching the army doctor's attention and he turned around to see who might be calling him to discover a man who was smiling as he approached him. "Stamford. Remember?" The man asked him, looking quite expectantly at John and awaiting an answer and John looked blankly at him in confusion, unable to recall having previous met a single gentleman by the name of Stamford. "We were at Bart's together," The man continued which finally jogged Watson's memory. Stamford had been a man with quite a weak stomach if he recalled and did not have the normal sort of inclination one generally would need when seeking to become a doctor. However he was a reasonably nice man overall and John had gotten on with him rather well during his time at St. Bartholomew's College.

"Yes, of course," Watson said, shaking hands with the other man after transferring his cane to the hand which carried his leather briefcase. "Stamford," John said as he repositioned his stuff back into the proper hands.

"Good Lord! Where have you been?" Stamford asked him as he looked John over. "You're as thin as a rake!" He implored and Watson looked down, uncomfortable by the other man's comments but not one to be rude. "How about a pint on me for old time's sakes to catch up?" Stamford offered and John, having not had any particular plans in mind when he had set off into London on that particular day, agreed. "I know the perfect place just round the corner, the Auld Dubliner. Don't let the name change your mind about the place now Watson. It's run by some Irish men to be sure, but they don't stiff on the pints. Found the place several years back when a friend of mine recommended it to me. Irish themselves, but can't blame them for that," Stamford told him as he led John into a slightly dark pub which certainly looked nicer than some of the places of more questionable repute that many chose to get a pint at.

"It's nice this place, neat, clean," John remarked as he and Stamford claimed an open table in the already crowded pub. Stamford ordered them each a pint and as soon as it arrived they got to talking. Inevitably the conversation lead around to what John had been up to since he had left Bart's and John had felt the need to explain his time in the war and the outcome of his time there. "I made it home. Many weren't so lucky," Watson told Stamford, recalling the many letters that he had written home to soldier's mothers or wives after their sons or husbands had died in the war.

"So what now?" Stamford asked him casually as if they were discussing the evening news or state of the country.

"Hmm?" John hummed, glancing down at his glass before pursing his lips slightly. "I need a place to live," John told him, looking around slightly as he was apt to do since he had returned from the war. He was never completely comfortable in a crowded room or crowded street. " Somewhere decent, and an affordable price. It's not easy," John told Stamford, drinking from his glass of beer and Stamford chuckled. John suddenly had this strange feeling wash over him as if in another life or another time he had asked this question before only something was missing.  
><em>"<em>You know, you're the second person to say that to me today," Stamford told John with an amused grin and Watson put his glass of beer back on the table and turned his head to look at Stamford, curious now.

"Hmm? Who was the first?" He asked and just behind Stamford, John could have sworn he saw the red haired woman wave at him before she disappeared into the bustling crowd of Londoners that were passing by the window outside.


End file.
